Forgetting San Angelo

In the vast tapestry of life, my journey to discovering the true essence of community began as a nomadic soul, traversing the landscapes dictated by the ebb and flow of military assignments. In the uniformed rhythm of military life, knowing the heartbeats of the places we called home was a challenge, and the faces that adorned our temporary abodes were fleeting, like whispers in the wind.

The turning point in my odyssey came when I landed in the quaint embrace of San Angelo in 2011. It was here that the concept of community ceased to be an abstract notion and metamorphosed into a tangible, living entity. The canvas of my life started absorbing the vibrant hues of a town that held stories in its every nook and cranny.

Initially, my endeavor to connect with this newfound home took the form of artistic expression. Brushstrokes began to capture the iconic landmarks that defined San Angelo, each stroke an attempt to grasp the soul of the city. Yet, it was not long before the city started whispering its secrets to me, unraveling tales that were as diverse as the people who had once tread its streets.

The attorney from Austin, who, over a conversation, painted a vivid picture of his childhood adventures within the walls of the Cactus Hotel. The enchanting narratives of movie nights at the Texas Theater, recounted by those who witnessed its glory days. And then there was the pivotal moment at Sealy Flats, where Rod Bridgman bestowed upon me my first break, like a passing of the creative torch.

Yet, as I delved deeper into the rich tapestry of San Angelo's history, I found myself standing at the crossroads of nostalgia and loss. Many of the stories whispered by the city were echoes of places and faces long gone. It was then that an unrelenting passion seized me – the burning desire to immortalize these fading memories through the strokes of my brush.

Thus, my artistic journey transcended mere portrayal; it became a mission to uncover, celebrate, and preserve the stories that shaped the very fabric of the city. The canvases I painted became more than art; they became time capsules, encapsulating the essence of moments, places, and people that contributed to the city's evolution.

In my pursuit, I realized that art should not be a privilege reserved for a select few. The challenge emerged – to make these visual narrations accessible to all, ensuring that everyone could possess a tangible piece of their own history. Art became a bridge between the past and the present, an invitation for every resident to hold a fragment of their city's soul in their hands.

And so, my journey continues, each stroke of the brush etching a story onto the canvas, an ode to the resilience of a community that refuses to be forgotten. Through art, I invite others to join me in this exploration, to rediscover the beauty in the forgotten, and to collectively weave the threads that bind us to the tapestry of San Angelo's everlasting narrative.