An abstract image and the scent of the fragrance she wore carried to me on the breeze, conjured up the memory of her in my mind. She would pick up on this, wherever she was. I can’t tell you how she did it, but as sure as night follows day, she would make her presence felt again. Like a hawk locked on target, she would swoop in and try to reign the wind. She would attempt to force the river back on itself; make time alter its course. The stage was set, and I was up for the challenge, come what may. Life has a funny way of reminding you of what you long to forget, but need to learn.

As we all know, this city sucks for a lot of reasons. The number one reason on my list this week, though, is the goddamned pretend-a-cop parking enforcement. Not intelligent or in shape enough to become actual defenders of our domain, these are the assholes who crave positions of power so badly that they will walk up and down the streets in shitty weather wearing polyester, giving us tickets for various reasons. In my case, lots of tickets. Okay, more than lots. Let’s say tons. Backseats, trunks, and glove boxes full of tickets.

ARMED WITH A LIGHT METER, A CAMERA, AND A LIST OF BEAUTIFUL MODELS THAT WOULD MAKE HUGH HEFNER JEALOUS, THIS MONTH'S UNTAPPED TALENT, GYASI GILLESPIE, IS READY TO TAKE ON THE WORLD OF PHOTOGRAPHY. GILLESPIE SAT DOWN WITH INSANE WAYNE CHINSANG AND DEBBIE, AND HAD A FRONT PORCH CONVERSATION ABOUT GALLERIES, GRAFFITI, AND GRADUATING.
Wayne: Start by telling us how you got into art.