The art of Kevin Blythe Sampson

THE ART OF
KEVIN BLYTHE SAMPSON

11/17/09

Kevin: A story….Ashy Hands and art………

Kevins old negro badge

After my wife died

I got the kids

My son and daughter

We set up shop in Newark

In a old factory on chestnut

It was a really old place

Full of darkness and new beginnings

We liked it that way

We played sting Englishman in New York

The theme of the mission

This place was a womb………………

It was full of lots of light and love

Anyway mother Kevin

Was At the stove cooking away

Frying French fries for the kids

The pot caught a fire

The grease was too hot

So all I could think of way losing this place

And the kids and I having no place to go

So I grabbed this pot and walked calmly to the sink

I mean this pot was over hot

On fire and here I was calmly walking to the sink

I didn’t feel any thing

Some one threw water on the pot

It might have been me

And the grease

The hot oil bubbled over the side

Scalding my hands

My kids were there watching this

Scared

Screaming dad

I dumped that grease on the sink

Doused it with floor

And the fire was out

My daughter yelled

You hands your hand

I ran cold water over my hands

For a long time

Scared for the coolness to stop

Scared to look down

When I did

And we all looked at my hands together

They were sore they were red

But I only had first degree burns

Redding and pain

But I could handle it

Wasn’t much

After this day

My hands always stayed dry

I have to pile on lotion

But nothing works like Vaseline

I always for get

And some days my hands look

Like those of one of those old black guys

That used to work along side my father

Deacon Lee, I nice man who never said a word to most folks

He was quiet

But he smiled and smiled and I always felt so safe

With the deacon

He talked to me, showing me how to hammer a nail

Showing me how to build things, to fix things

As he worked on my fathers old building

That he rented out on the bad side of town

In those days we used to collect the nails

That was used in the old parts of the steps

The railing or the floors we were replacing

I used to play with those rusty nails

Organizing them in to forms

The threat of lock jaw only made it fun

I dreamed of lock jaw…………..would it make me silent

Deacon Lee

My mother used to make us bacon and eggs and grits

At the kitchen table

I was a kid

Kids didn’t eat with men

But my father would always feed me

I loved to watch my father eat

My father

Would Always break me off some food

I loved watching these men Eat

And imagining that some day I would

Be one of them

Before we set on weds days to work

We ate

I was so bad that my mother needed a break

And hanging with my father

Was supposed to help me

It did

It showed me manhood

And although I would be fifty

Before I could even begin to figure it out

It was school

It showed me how to build

How to be jackleg

How to make some thing from used parts

And on those steps and in those old building

I added things to my developing need to make things

Rust and smells

Life and lived in empty Rooms, painted with cheap color

Molding, and rot and the memories and renewal

On my fathers tenant buildings

My father was a barber and worked five days a week

Nine to nine

And on his days off, he worked with his hands

All the while directing others to rebel

The buildings, were filled

With all of my cousins, aunts, and family

On my fathers side

People just up from the south

My father was the head of his family

And those who came with gold teeth

And dreams of the north

People came to him

So when I look at my hands

It connects me to these times

They were good days

I remember this why working on a new sculpture

Of the world

An open glob

I just brought some stain

And asked my self why do I use so much stain

And then I looked at my hands and knew

It is the lotion

The stain removes the ashy-ness of my pieces

It makes them look alike

Hides the damage

And pulls it all together

Yup the stain that I use so much of

Is the lotion

On my ashely hands and my life

 

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