I was driving down South St. Mary's street and saw this dude airbrushing on the sidewalk outside of a tattoo shop. I got off to talk to him and he told me that he was given a gift from God to draw. He said so in a very humble way. In a way that even though I am not religious, it was still welcoming to my ears. I still avoided religion though and began a conversation with my belief that we are all owners of some type of gift that needs to eventually be unearthed... I usually don't have such conversations on the sidewalk. About 3 minutes into our encounter, the shop owner (I assume) came out and said I couldnt take pictures since any drawings were property of the tattoo shop, even the drawing the man was working on, with the gift his God had given him. I said nothing, the man said nothing (didnt catch his name) and both of us left each other sad. I could see it on his face, I felt it on my own. truly fucked up. a layered sadness since such actions rarely make me angry anymore, its almost expected. more accurately, Im first hit with a feeling of disgust, and THEN a feeling of sadness... disgusted that I saw it coming and sad that it doesnt anger me. this lack of anger comes in waves... lately crashing too frequently. this is some very revealing shit im not proud of. we may each possess a gift, but who is really the owner of that gift?
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