I saw these three men at three separate moments in San Francisco, during a recent trip to Fisherman’s Wharf. I was showing an old college friend one of my favorite places to get coleslaw and fried fish. I created a composite drawing that uses the fact that all three were wearing striped shirts as a unifying element.
For my second 500 drawings I am interested in depicting those African American men that I have largely overlooked during my first 500 drawings. Among those constituencies that I am rarely depict are homeless Black men, which is kind of peculiar, because there are a number of homeless guys who I see and with whom I speak on a regular basis. This is one such person who I’ve run into a few times near the Safeway that’s across the street from the Fruitvale branch of the Oakland Public Library. We have exchanged hellos, but we’ve never actually had a conversation. I’ve never forgotten the way his too-thin frame accommodated a tucked-in sweater a bit too easily. The way the tongue of his belt hung down way past his pocket suggested that he was both dramatically underfed and dressed in the clothing of a much larger person. There is an unassuming dignity in the way he carries himself, and his gaze suggests that he’s seen more in his one lifetime than most people might encounter in three. I hope to print this drawing soon and to hand this gentleman a copy next time I’m in his area.
This guy was leaning on the counter at Gaylord’s on Piedmont Avenue, but he was such a natty dresser, and his style was such a unique twist on classic men’s style that I decided to provide him with a classically-inspired podium as his arm rest.
A Billy Dee Williams mustache in 2013?!!? “Yes, yes, and more yes!” This look is so old school it hurts (in that bittersweet nostaglia kind of way)! Lando Calrissian, eat your heart out!
They say that a face can tell a story. I say that the size of someone’s biceps, triceps, and shoulders can tell a story, too. The arms and shoulders on this brother, for example, in the tight-fitting t-shirt, tell the story of someone who spends at least part of his days lifting a lot more than a few cups of coffee.
There are a lot of Black people who participate in East Bay cafe culture. Even though I moved here from Oregon nearly 14 years ago, I still get a thrill from the number of Africans, Afro-Caribbean folks, Afro-Europeans and (of course) African American folks I run into at East Bay coffeehouses. The variety of brothers who came into Zocalo last week was one of the things that got me through the second of two very intense weeks of manuscript preparation. This older gentleman was one of several elderly Black men I noticed during my longest work days. It seemed that every time I started to feel sorry for myself (which is, in itself, a bit self-indulgent), another older Black man would enter the cafe and I would be reminded that any long life involves struggles and celebrations and lots of hard work.
I wish I’d made note of this guy’s name. At the Free Your Mind Festival book fair he recited his poetry, and it was really quite good. He also stopped by my table and we had a wonderful chat. He was sincere and warm and very laid back. If you were at the Free Your Mind book fair and/or you know the name of this poet, please contact me. I would love to email him a copy of this drawing.
This smart, friendly guy bought a set of my postcards. He was my first big purchase of the day, and it really thrilled me to meet someone was interested not only in purchasing my work, but also in discussing the inspiration and influences behind this series. I don’t know if the visitors to art, book, and ‘zine fests realize how much it meets to us (independent artists and writers) when they really connect with our work. This guy is a perfect example. His sincere interest and good questions–not all of which I could answer–kept me thinking about the artist’s responsibility to the subject for several days after we met.
On the first Saturday in March, I participated in Free Your Mind: A Revolution in Words Literary Festival, at the San Francisco Public Library. There were a number of writers and booksellers present, including the man in this drawing, Bernard Henderson. Bernard was representing Alexander Book Co., where he is the events coordinator and an expert on African American books.