brindleblog'n

The Water Tower
Winter of 1980

I am in this kind of shape when I graduated High School June 1980
I could handstand, parallel bar and other impressive gymnastic body moves...wink wink
I drove a faded red Fiat sports coupe with ugly ass surf racks
je parle un peu de francais, (I speak a little french)
I am trying to plan my future into the big world and find my pot of gold

I have registered full-time as a student of Golden West College, general education courses to prepare for my medical career, anatomy, biology, chemistry, trigonometry, calculus, all the toughies..........

The pressure was on to perform.....
any 18 year old can tell you at this age......I'm not afraid!
but we realize as we get older that we were hanging on by the tips of our fingernails

I am characterized as a very even keeled soul, an old soul, I have been called the "big yellow dog" and I am honored by some as "the bear" nicknamed from those whom have seen my uncharacteristic rage and speed of conflict dissolution
I am joyful 360 days of the year....every year...........pretty much all my life so far

With that in mind.........

I was informed of some very bad news..........bad news to my soul
My high school art teacher had failed me...........my junior year I got an A
I went through the summer trying to shake it off......
but it loomed as obvious and embarrasing as a zit on your nose during photo day

I sunk into a very deep depression.............deeper than I have ever been before or after.............
It is amazing how easily a deeply depressed soul can hide away from the world going on all around you.......hell...I didn't even know what I was going through other than I always felt like I was on a rollercoaster ride that wouldn't stop...........
private time reflections were tender and pride swallowing

I learned you can be sad and stay sad, or you can get off your ass and do something about it

I knew I had to change my head or I would dissappear...........I felt in my heart I could be an artist when I grew up and that I wasn't bad enough to be failed...........I couldn't that bad of an artist, could I?
I didn't know for sure now as my confidence was shaken, but I wasn't going to die without trying

I came up with a cocka-maimy scheme.........I suppose a scheme that I could feel victory from

I was going to paint a mural on the Huntington Beach Water Tower (warner ave.)
80 feet tall or so it feeled at the time
If I wasn't killed in climbing the tower then I would feel like I had accomplished something I could be proud of and begin to rebuild my world and my mind........
and feel better as an artist.........even if it was just once
If I succeeded I couldn't really tell anyone for fear I would go to jail for defacing the tower
I would just know that it was me and that would give me a victory in my soul

I began planning for it...........it felt like Mission Impossible....I told no one in case I got hurt or arrested so that no one else could be blamed....

I purchased as many paint cans would fit into my college book backpack

and waited...........waited for the fog.............
triple dense fog well known in the Huntingon Harbor area

In the meantime....
I investigated the target during daylight and night time to establish points of entry and exit,
possible interferences of neighboring homes and how to get around the barrier fencing.

One night the fog hit hard but because of something like work or school I couldn't do it

I remembering looking out a window staring at the fog as my last opportunity
as I know the fog arrives and leaves like a thief.............
a brief sense of relief in my face that I would not have to risk my life tonight
but a renewed vigor came upon me knowing that I was ready to risk it all and that the very next fog would produce a mural, incarceration or death

I felt like I did my homework and that I was as prepared as I could be to accomplish the mural
and not set off any alarms or phone calls to the police to prevent me from finishing the mural
and I was in very good shape gymnastically to make the "hanging upside down 80 feet, split leg through the hole in the floor manuever" to get to the place to paint..............

Fog didn't come back for a month...............

The Fog
The fog came one day thick and full...fuller than I had ever seen it roll in
you would have to open your car door to see the lines on the road, a trick my Dad showed me when we almost got stranded one night.....I was so impressed with how he could remember the way home from just the lines on the street going 5 miles an hour...........
I would doing the same thing now, I wonder if my Dad would be proud in a wierd way?

I took a nap till nightime and hoped the fog would stay through the night........
free and pure I feel now....an artist to display against all odds

A hushed focus comes upon your soul when you feel you are going on to preform a life or death feat....hard to describe the intensity........you know within hours that it is literally do or die
no one but you, your mind and your hands........wide eyed, intense, feeling very mortal
a life weight you strap on your back ready to be carried out

I connected very deeply with the spirits of the warrior preparing myself physically in all black shoes, black pants and shirt and a black ski mask with a black backpack except for the small little rainbow logo on the back.......slightly shaded my face to reduce glare or reflection

It is 11:30pm now

I believe I told my brother whom I could trust with my life and told him in one half hour where I would be and that if he didn't see me early in the morning to come looking for me. A broh pact was handshaked out between us, a hug, a goodluck.........I'm not sure he entirely believed me....but he knew me well enough to know something was up, and let me be

I started my car and began my ride to ultimate failure or ultimate triumph

(stay tuned for tommorrows conclusion)