W
hile I was drawing this, I looked up to see a woman wearing a pale blue, bus driver’s shirt, black trousers, black sunglasses and shoulder-length dreadlocks staring down at me.‘Hello,’ I said, smiling and taking off my headphones.
‘I was just walking by and saw you and just wondered what you are doing,’ the woman said.
I told the woman about the project and that she would be this drawing’s story.
Then, when I had finished my explanation, the woman said, ‘Where’d you get that accent of yours?’
I told her that I got the majority of it in Australia, but some of it I got in England.
‘Damn,’ she said and cocked her head to the right. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I really like your land and your people,’ I told the woman.
At that, the woman reached her hand down toward me, for shaking.
I took the woman’s hand, and she smiled.
‘Thanks for saying that,’ the woman said. ‘We might not be perfect, but I like my land and my people too.’
A Hundred Houses 