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May 06, 2005
Public Art Pt 2
"Dude." Of course I said "Dude." It was the late 1980's and saying "dude" was the rad thing to do. "Come in here and check this out."
"No way. I don't want to look at your shit" my brother replied.
"What? No. You've got to check this out. Come on." I called to him again from the door to the men's room. "This is so awesome."
We were in Midway Airport in Chicago on our way to Washington DC and I hit the bathroom during a shortlayover. I don't remember much about the bathroom. Maybe the stalls were gray, maybe they were blue. All I know is they weren't black; the drawing was black.
All the urinals were occupied, so I went into the first available stall and found a drawing that covered nearly the entire wall. I first noticed that it contained a naked woman - an naked woman bent over by...A teenage mutant ninja turtle?
The perspective was perfect. To the left was one of the turtles. I couldn't really tell which one, the artist only drew the back of his shell and the back of his head. Then in front of him was April and her hands and knees. We only got a glimpse of her body, blocked as it was by the turtle, but it was clear she had an impressive one; in a speech bubble above the two of them read, "Oh, April, you have an ass like a pizza." The rest of the turtles and Splinter were on the far right of the picture -miniature figures cheering on their buddy from a distance.
When I got back to school after my summer vacation and trip to DC the main topic of converstaion was what each of us did over the summer vacation. "I went camping in Canada, what did you do?"
"I went to Washington DC and stepped in wet cement right outside of the Supreme Court building." This got me thinking againg about my trip, and in one class where I got to sit next to a friend of mine I told him about the bathroom art I saw in the Airport.
"So it was one of the turtles..."
"Wha?"
"Like this." I drew him a the picture. I took time trying my best to make it as close to the original as possible.
"That's awesome."
"I know."
"Give it to me."
"OK." I handed my notebook over to Dan, my friend. He took out a pencil and erased something, wrote something and then handed it back to me laughing.
What did he change? I thought. Oh, there it is. He wrote in Madeline instead of April. "Who's Madeline?"
"Pishaw. Give it to me."
He took the notebook in his hand again and drew a mole on "Madeline's" face. A big mole on her uper right lip - she was looking back at the penetrating turtle.
"That's awesome!" I said laughing now. Madeline. That was our teacher's first name. Madeline Moon. The mole gave it away.
We spent the rest of the class drawing pictures of Mrs. Moon with each of the different turtles. Sure they all looked the same, but they all had different weapons that doubled as sex toys given the right position. Even Splinter, the elderly turtle.
By the end of class we had several pages of drawings done. I snapped my notebook shut at the sound of the bell, so that no other students would see our (dare I say) masterpieces. Then I hurried to my next class. Math! Joel is in my math class.
Joel was one of my best friends and I knew he would be impressed by the drawings. Not only because of their sexually explicit nature, but because of the craftsmanship. The pencil strokes. The shading. The way we attended to even the smallest detail.
I looked aroudn to make sure there were no teachers present, no goody-goodies either, and whipped open my notebook. "Joel Check this out."
"That's awesome. Is that Mrs. Moon?"
"Yeah."
I flipped to the next page. "That's very nice."
What? Who was that? I turned around to find myself face to face with our math teahcer, Mrs Whatshername - Sparrow or something.
I shut my notebook faster than I knew possible thinking it would erase her memory what she'd just seen.
"Give me that."
"What?"
"That drawing."
"Um." I flipped open the notebook to a page I was sure didn't contain a drawing. They were all together at the back of the notebook, I was sure of that and I was sure I could find them, but I wasn't sure if I could find the one. The one she had just seen, and I didn't want to open to the wrong one and let her know there was more than one drawing. "I can't find it. I'll find it and give it to you."
"Just give me the notebook."
Oh. Shit. I'm in so much trouble. I reluctantly handed her the notebook.
"I'm looking forward to getting a better look at that."
At the end of the day Mrs. Whatshername came into my homeroom. We had a period at the end of the day when we could work on our homework. My period was interrupted when she called me into the hallway. "Brian. Here's your notebook back. There were some interesting drawings in here."
"Drawings?" Shit. She found all of them. How could she not?
"I'm sure your parents will be interested in seeing them."
"I don't know about that."
"Well, we'll find out. I want you to take this envelope. There's a note inside I want your parents to sign. I want it back tomorrow."
I took the envelope in my sweaty, nervous hands. Shit. Shit. Shit. I am in so much trouble. It was one thing to get caught with drawings at school, but to have to talk to my parents about anything of a sexual nature. That was sure to be torture.
I didn't want to show the envelope to my parents, but Mrs Whatshername - Robin, maybe? - said I had to or she'd have me suspended from school. The whole way home I debated which parent to show the envelope. And its contents, each page individually numbered, with a note from the teacher - in her handwriting - giveing an inventory of the other contents. The inventory needed to be signed, along with every one of the pictures,and returned the next day.
My dad was scary. He'd yell like hell and I didn't want that on top of a sex talk. But my mom. She'd get frantic. She'd get religious. "Jesus never drew naked pictures of his teachers." Then she'd start with the "Sex is dirty" talk, probably crying.
I decided crying would be easier to tolerate. I'd show her the pictures before my dad got home from work and then hide in my room the rest of the night.
"I can't sign these. This is disgusting. I can't believe my son would do something like this. I feel like vomitting. -- You make me feel like vomitting right now. That's how I feel. I can't sign these. I refuse to sign them."
"But you have to or I get suspended."
"That is too much like condoning."
"Could you at least write a note saying you saw them? I don't want to get supended, Mom."
"It's not my doing that will get you suspended. You drew these horrendous pictures. I don't want them leaving my house."
"But, mom. Can you at least write a note saying you saw them and say how disgusting you thought they were?"
"I guess I can do that."
I think she still has the pictures to this day. They're hidden away in a filing cabinet in a folder called "Brian's drawings."
Posted by calculatoronfire at May 6, 2005 05:35 PM
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Comments
fuck, dude. that is so NOT rad.
Posted by: sweetney at May 6, 2005 11:49 PM
It's not rad to say "dude" anymore?
Posted by: Malnurtured Snay at May 7, 2005 12:02 AM
"Jesus never drew naked pictures of his teachers."
Giggling, giggling.
Posted by: d2ana at May 8, 2005 11:44 AM
that blows that they were unable to appreciate the statement you were making. The turtle's violation of your teacher clearly represented corporate america's penetration into our educational institutions. You are a brilliant visionary.
Posted by: Neckbone at May 9, 2005 04:55 PM