In a little while, I am about to get my August Rush on. This cool kid Jesse Mutzebaugh and I are grabbing guitars and taking ‘em to the streets of downtown Colorado Springs. If you want to check us out, come to the Tejon and Pikes Peak area.
Last night we had a few unplanned adventures spurring on this performance urge.
Jesse and I put on nice suits and headed to an Art Show we heard about (Sarah Addy mentioned there would be free food). Obviously and purposely over dressed, we perused through the abstract pieces and political paintings. A set of images highlighting the artist Frita caught our attention and I asked to see if the artist was present. She was, and we got introduced to her. As she shared her heart and influences, she seemed thrilled that people wanted to understand the deeper tones of her art (and heart). Eventually, she brought us into a secret room (back stage) with more of her art. It was painful to look into her soul while she described the influences behind her piece, “Coping Mechanism,” and others, but I’m grateful I got to.
“Are you Mormons?” many inebriated night lifers asked us. Our suits were not black. Our ties were not black, yet people thought we were dressed like Mormons. Why have Mormons taken all the credit for suits?
SIDE NOTE: I love wearing suits, and it saddens me that the culture of some churches have developed so that one may feel uncomfortable dressing up for a service. I’m cool with shorts and holed up jeans, but I’m also cool with suits. Just because someone is wearing a suit does not mean they are influenced by a religious spirit.
ADVENTURE THREE (out of order).
A group of girls caught our attention. Sixteen year old girls. Fortunately , we caught the group of twelve’s attention as well (apparently, they weren’t used to seeing men wear suits). These 12, sixteen year old girls caught our attention because they were dressed oddly. Gas masks, old man wigs, little Bo peep dresses, strange glasses, and glittery garments caused this giggling group to stand out.
I’ve always been certain that this is what girls do when guys aren’t around, but this was the first time I actually saw it.
They wanted to take pictures with us. We wanted to take pictures with them, but didn’t want to seem like perverts. Fortunately, they asked first.
Girls. Go figure.
When they email me the pictures I’ll put them up.
Before we met those girls, Jessed and I were heading back to our car. Suddenly, a great music filled the air—great in a creepy way. Anybody that knows me well knows that I had to find the source of the music. Jesse wasn’t aware of anything because he was talking on a phone with a friend that a 17 girl we met reunited him with (that’s the next adventure).
He looked up to find that I was leading him into an exceptionally creepy alley. Creepy music, no lighting and people scattered around made us feel a little insecure, even though we were wearing nice suits (maybe because we were wearing nice suits). Still, we followed the music into the alley. In the alley was another deeper alley. The music got louder and we found the source. A bunch of dreadlocked, pot smoking young adults hung around outside a building (the source of the sound). “Come in. We welcome you” the hippies said to keep us from leaving. It worked. We entered the building and saw intriguing displays. Art hung everywhere, a man blew his brass instrument to drums, bass and synths, and dreadlocked youths made out as we entered the building. I wish I hadn’t worn my suit. We hung out for awhile, but left as people asked us if were Mormon because we didn’t want to take a hit.
“She’s got to be thirteen” we said to each other. Observing this small framed, blonde, trendy looking girl play her guitar and sing on the corner only lasted ten minutes before we asked her how old she was. Seventeen. “I’ve been homeless for about 8 months now” she said to us in response to us asking about her life. We found out that she had moved quite a bit because her dad regularly lost his job, and always wanted a new one in a different location. Our hearts broke as we found that he has never had an education or a stable life. Jesse and I taught her a few guitar tricks and Sarah Addy (who was with us for this adventure) encouraged her during the time we spent with her. This girl, Cammy (like from Street Fighter II Turbo) encouraged us to grab our guitars and play on the streets.
So, that’s what we’re doing tonight.