Early this morning I wandered down to 6th Avenue and 17th Street to sit at one of my favorite murals - Himdag ‘o Wud T-gewkdag painted by Diety, Moxie, and Yukue. I’ve always been drawn to this mural because of the pink and purple sky, the airbrushed qualities, the desert scene, and the unforgettable face of Amy Juan. Her expression always makes me stop in my tracks.
So, to start my Mural Meditation series there seemed obvious.
I posted up across the street, and I sat.
The city started waking up; some stumblers, some teens, workers catching the bus. A woman with a backpack, a man in his tiny running shorts, a big guy with a tiny dog. 17th street is being paved so as the sun came up the trucks started rumbling. Big aggregate haulers making lots of noise. And I sat.
At one point, I realized a camera was pointed at me, affixed to the mural. Watching. Seeing. Looking. I laughed at how surveillance has become such a thing these days, but started to consider how Amy’s eyes were also watching me. In that moment, I was able to remember that all our relatives are seeing us, observing how we move and what we do… the saguaros, young and old, the bats, the nopal, the cholla. They see us, too.
It’s easy to get caught up in believing we live in a human land, where everything is about us. Which is so obviously not the case when you can soften your gaze on objective ‘reality’. Amy may be looking at me, with that expression that makes me consider whether I’m acting in good faith or being a little bitchass… but so are the other beings around us.
So I get to start my Monday thankful for the reminder that I am, we are, but one species of many, with a niche to occupy, a way to act, a purpose. Art can do that for you if you let it.
