Jeremy shares my birthday, December 14th. Composing the victims’ short descriptions for the memorial is like condensing their lives from left-over random facts into a haiku. Excruciating. It is not truly their magnificent essence. But when I paint, space and trace the letters, I feel their spirit. And I hope as you walk by, your eye might catch a glimpse of it. Maybe you feel compelled to spend a minute. Since the mural is still growing, you might discover yet another name & story to be mourned, and known. Their spirit lives on.
Jeremy "Bam Bam" McDole Dec 14, 1986 – Sept 23, 2015, Paraplegic, 28 year old, Wilmington, Delaware
Words – bits and pieces, found online in newspapers, obituaries, funeral announcements – become a truncated attempt to honor a life tragically and cruelly cut short. On the garage doors, each name and entry becomes like a telegram from current (and old) times. Perhaps a found poem. Or is each a message in a bottle? Floating in the ocean of ever-turning times, fate, and death & life. Each individual a son, mother, nephew, bother, grandma, human being, BELOVED.
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I was so inspired by this mural - the simplicity of honoring the dead on the walls of your home and bringing love and respect into everyday life - that I thought to create a mural of my own, different in content but similar in spirit, by painting my car with colors and quotes from those radical women of color who are at the forefront of struggles for transformational social change. I mentioned this to my landlady, a self-proclaimed "artist", and she returned to me a few days later to request that I don't paint my car in this way, at least not while I am living at her house. Why? Because she thinks it would "disturb the peace" of the 99% white neighborhood where I live.
In such a violent culture, messages of love and respect are seen as threats...