The Artwork Of Melvin (Not His Real Name)

The 'artwork' is built around a fire hydrant.
That's "Melvin's" back in the distant right next to the building.

I was washing clothes yesterday at the usual laundromat a few blocks from home.

Outside two gentlemen were sitting, one sitting in a foldout lawn chair, the other on the pavement against the laundromat's glass wall.

I've spoken with the one in the foldout chair in the past.

I'll call him "Melvin" (which is similar to his real name).

I've chatted with Melvin over the past five years I've lived here.

He's always been very nice, cordial, well spoken.

He is charming.

He also seems addicted to something he smokes from a glass pipe.

Melvin is about 10 or 15 years older than myself.

From one of our chats, I learned that Melvin receives income from a relative... possibly a trust.

He mentioned to me he has a wealthy brother, but that their relationship is not good.

I have never seen Melvin doing drugs until yesterday outside the laundromat.

Melvin likes to pick up trash and arrange it in an artful way.

I've seen his 'work' around town, knowing very well who it was that arranged a mismatch of trash into symmetrical lines and eye-catching arrangements.

He has grown his beard now twice as long as mine.

I had not seen him for almost a year during that growth.

Melvin has never asked me for money.

He has never begged me for anything, but has always been welcoming, open with a smile, and a hello of some kind.

Prior to his beard and about a year ago, I ran across him and he gave me gift.

A t-shirt from atop a shopping cart he was pushing.

I said it was he who needed the new shirt, not me.

It was purple and imprinted with information about a church group in a neighboring city.

I figured he was gifted the shirt by someone at this church, or that he had attended a church service and received it there.

However it came to him, I ended up with it.

I wear it proudly, knowing who it came through to me.

It is no coincidence my friendship with Melvin and me receiving a gift in purple.

I was disappointed to see Melvin smoking from that glass pipe yesterday.

He never looked towards my direction yesterday, for I know he is very observant.

Maybe he was also disappointed or embarrassed.

I love Melvin.

I'm getting emotional now just thinking about him, about his struggles, about a sense of helplessness I feel when considering his situation and his decisions.

I've mentioned to him how there are ways to get off the street, but he is not interested.

This morning as I walk down my street, there he is with another man.

They are talking about who knows what.

I walk by slowly and keep my eyes on him, hoping to catch his gaze.

Finally, his eyes meet mine and we both wave hello without him breaking his train of thought and conversation.

As I arrive at the corner, I see what you see in the images - Melvin's artwork.

Perhaps my single shot (the first wide shot), taken quickly so not to embarrass him or his friend, doesn't do it justice.

Here are three zoom-ins (screen shots) of the fire hydrant display in detail following a single zoom-in of the hydrant: