The Banjo Player (one for Willie)

I have a collection of stuff I'd made for Willie intending to put in his pocket, but his mole was too small. So it's still waiting for me to mail it to him and I am adding this to the collection. Banjo player. Look out Willie. The hold up is the poems that go with the art.

This started out as a pencil sketch which I colored with those Staedtler watercolor crayons, but there weren't enough colors so I added Portfolio watercolor oil pastels and then a touch of actual watercolors. The paper is 5 x 7, that tuppence 70 pound sketch--too light for watercolors, but I intended it as pencil sketch--it needed color.

To see some of Willie's other pocket items, click here.

One of the Poems:

Needle Park at Night

The night is darker here.

The lights are broken

like the benches, broken,

never repaired.

The landlord said, “that place

is dangerous by day; never

go there at night.

He also said, “Don’t sing

or smile, a girl alone’s not safe.

He met me at the bus, escorted me

to the safely of my rented room

until I lost my job.

He put me on the street

when I had no rent.

“What can I do?” he said.

“I have to eat.”

I

don’t

have to eat,

I’ve learned,

not every day.

After a while, the pain stops hurting

quite so much.

And needle park at night

is not a lonely place; street people

share the darkness,

tell stories

sometimes smile or even sing.