Chapter 15: Touchpoint

Out of the boughs he came,  

Whispering still her name,     

Tumbling in twenty rings       

Into the grass.

— Ralph Hodgson

Past sunset.

Gospel's sitting on the horizontal, silky-grimy-green-gray branch of a magnolia tree, typing precariously into her crack-screened phone.

May I ask you a few questions about submitting my portfolio?

>>Please, yes.

A lot of my work is created in situ on private and public structures. As you may imagine, property owners and other artists INTERACT with the work as it’s being produced.

>>Go on.

Would photographic records of works in progress, in dialogue with people who are maybe adding to it or painting over it, be OK to admit? Plus I do have some paint on plywood pieces in my shed.

>>Sounds like you don’t have a real professional portfolio, love.

No, my job’s personal training. And I’m a parkour artist. I do want to be a professional painter, but it’s hard. I can't sit still enough to take classes. I’m clumsy with my hands. I do full arm/full body movements for painting. I work big.

>>I do like people who work big.

I want to do this so much!

>>How much?

I paint buildings and street signs and sidewalks and bodies. I paint trees. I pour paint into water and watch it shimmy. I throw cans of paint on stuff. I climb trees and ladders and fire escapes and drain spouts. I let it run down corporate windows and no one can figure how it got there! I tag cop cars!

>>You realize you're admitting to a crime with just about every phrase?

...

I know you're safe. I've seen you work.

Gospel waited. She felt ridiculously childlike and braggadocious. Crowing about tagging police cars! But how could she explain the energy behind painting, marking, putting color on things? She had no theory, no training, barely any method. She knew it. Making art was energy, was an engine running, was throwing herself at the world in a brilliant grappling embrace.
Nothing appeared on the screen for a long time. The humid air cooled into a dewy kiss.

Then he typed:

>>What do you want, and what are you willing to give?