Paint Away the Demons

It’s been eight months since I have been in Madrid and I am no way closer to understanding things here. Houses are spotless hotels yet rubbish are everywhere in the pubs and parks. There are quiet distilled and surprising roads that lead to terraced houses and cobbled streets . Even the immigrants are foreign to me. The chinese, who speak not a word of spanish, but have dominated the late night stores like Spanish 711’s. Or the shy and tight knit morrocan families , the long flowing african dresses populating the spanish streets. The rampant xenophobia of some spanish people yelling insults in the streets.
And I have I changed with this? Alone here, yet not alone finding problems in every corner, yet I continue to fight to see ways out.
I find continously that I am encountering people I never thought of. Their lives a complete mystery to me. I find myself thinking of the homeless man in the streets with his small kitten. Of the young russian prostittues which populate Sol and Gran Via their frail bodies appearing immune to stares of disdain. The beggars who come unto the train leaving frayed notes and dirty kleenex to ask for money. These people, these small windows of desperation. Were their lives always like this?
I find myself thinking of this because of the junior youth who come to the group. One boy already dropped out of school, but he paints beautifully. He wants to be a gardener. He has crooked teeth and a long nose. He takes care of his brothers and sisters all day. A gypsy romanian , well intended. His siblings riddling with insults running wild and rampant. All children , young band of hooligans, perhaps fitting into the urchins of the victorian age. Green hazel eyes and long hooped earrings catch your eye with the young sister . Beautiful this girl, in a few years she will blossom and become irresistible and an easy target for men. Will she become like those freezing prostitutes on the streets? Will this girl become pregnant when she reaches 15?
I hope not.
It haunts me.
Even now, they hold little esteem for anything . But they paint. So I paint with them. Paint I say, paint the world and it’s souls, like riding unto a storm, give it swords to fight away the demons.
I introduced the word ” service” and they gave me a lot of lude remarks on sex with girls. It will take awhile to reach to them. I feel like the world has let them down and already they are falling into it. But I believe, I believe that they are great and wonderful so I will keep on trying.

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