Essay & Artwork by Susan Vespoli

Maybe the fuchsia 44DD bra I found splayed in the center of 17th Ave. 

People ask, “what is the weirdest trash you’ve found in the street?” when they see photos of my trash-art collages. 

My trash-art project began in the last part of 2023, the idea sparked in a class I took from Maya Stein called “Shake Until Stirred.”

Stein’s goal was to get us to see things differently, and for me, it worked! In particular, I was moved by her instruction to notice what was above us and beneath us: in the sky and on the ground. 

I was already a big sky-looker. When I had to draw a picture of  my higher power in a 12-Step Al-Anon/ACA workbook I was moving through with my sponsor, I rebelled. Not a believer in organized religion, I said, “NO.” She said, “come on. You have to.” She followed with, “I drew a tree.”

Oh, okay, I thought. I do believe in energy and spiritual guidance and all that, just not a HIM god, a boss-god modeled after a man.

So, I drew the sky: sunsets and the sun and the moon. I also drew clouds. After my son was shot by a cop in 2022, I wrote a poem called “Adam has become a cloud.” I wrote it on the day he was cremated. I also drew a pen and a notebook as part of my higher power. I believe I am led, inspired, and soothed through writing.

But, the ground. I had never thought of seeking inspiration by what was on the ground. So, I began to look down. I take my three dogs for two walks a day. I ride my bike. So, I have plenty of time and opportunity to look down. 

Maya showed us examples of art she’d created from garbage found on the ground. It looked fun. I decided to try it.

I began to notice all the bounty on sidewalks, curbs, and parking lots. Red plastic lids, silver beer bottle caps, rusty nails, soda cans smashed into butterflies. What I had previously stepped over, been blind to, was suddenly a treasure shaped like a nose or the color of an eye.

I signed up for The 100 Day Project, where you commit to doing a certain type of art for one-hundred days. At first, I made abstract designs from my plethora of daily rubbish, but then my art turned into faces. And, then I couldn’t stop myself. The faces felt like they emerged on their own. All I had to do was zone out with my found discards (which I began to keep in the trunk of my car – overage from my daily pick-ups) and the faces would almost make themselves.

After creating the trash art, I throw away or recycle everything. I figure the world is being cleaned up AND I am seeing things differently: a HUGE gift.

My son Adam had addiction challenges and sometimes lived on the street. Near the end of his life, he found recovery at a church called Pure Heart. He worked in their food bank. And, he loved the communities of humans he met on the street. He brought water bottles and food to those still out there when he was housed. He preached to them. He wanted to be a street minister.

Long story short, he was shot by a cop who is no longer a cop. The City of Phoenix settled the case financially.

In his final days, Adam wanted people to know that every person living on the street had value. As a mother of a beloved homeless being, I obviously agree. “Street people” are not throwaways. They are unique individuals. Now I see faces smiling up from cement. 

Turquoise glass-shard eyes, popped pink balloon noses, palm frond hairdos, red-sequined baby-bow mouths.

I take a picture of each face each day, post it on Instagram. When I hit 100 days, I couldn’t stop and turned it into #the365dayproject. I might never stop. Hooray trash art.


​

​
Susan Vespoli is a poet who can't seem to stop writing about her adult kids, beloved beings who have taught her so much about powerlessness as well as intense love. Susan Vespoli - Author, Poet