Wednesday, June 7, 2017

Where Have All Artists Gone? The Preamble

We took a walk through an unsavory part of town today. I mean, sort of, there really isn't much in our little town that is unsavory. We got derelict neighborhoods, abandoned factories and we still haven't finished repairs from the 2013 floods.

Along the St Vrain river greenway between Issak Walton pond and Main Street, we walked through many an urban providence. Nearest the pond, which had been recently treated with a water herbicide, the views are of junkyards and quarries. Then past Boston Ave and Left Hand Brewing, it's vacant lots which are anything but. Later on, near the railroad tracks, the homeless encampments bring back memories of the Occupy Movement of 2011.

Sure, it's an industrial district, a warehouse and shipping area complete with trailer parks and railroads. I felt icky there. I especially felt icky when two shady characters were shooting up in a picnic pavilion.

At supper, we were recounting the views of the day. Janice mentioned these types of warehouse areas, mostly abandoned, should be a place for artists. How right. But where have the artists gone? I don't know any artists in our town. I do, but they're much older, live in nicer houses and made their money in real estate, banking or oil.

We talked about the artists we knew when we were younger, in our twenties, in early 1990s Denver. Perhaps it was easier to be an artist then.

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