R.A.D. DO SKERTON BUS STOP by MOLLIE BAXTER

"This is the constitution we've got so far: To deliver positive, community action, removing the fence of division rather than sitting on it."

Jam tugs a dreadlock.

"The metaphor would be more accurate if you said, 'Painting the fence that people sit on.'"
I nod. "Excellent, yes."
Kate sniggers, "So they get paint on their arse."

I ignore her, and turn to page two of the grant application form.
"Right. The checklist. 'Vision and Imagination.' Definitely. This is going to revolutionise Lancaster's street art. Freedom of expression combined with skilled artistry and, most importantly, a positive message.

"Next, 'The power to communicate to the target audience'. We can't miss 'em. Our first target is Skerton bus stop. We're taking the project right into peoples' everyday lives.

"Quality of execution -- well we can only do our best. And Jam's got his certificate from the Adult College now."

"I've been thinking about that," says Jam. "It's not going to be easy for me to do my best in the pitch black at 4 o'clock in the morning." Kate's jaw drops.
"4 o'clock! You're joking?"
"Well, no -- it's meant to be a surprise -- people wake up to find their environment has changed overnight for the better. "
"But I can't keep Adam up until four! He's cranky enough when he doesn't get to sleep by nine!"
"You'll have to get Tammy to babysit."
"But Adam was looking forward to painting."
"Kate, he's five -- not quite at his artistic peak."
"Oh really? Wait here." Kate disappears upstairs. While we wait, I turn to Jam, who, I now realise, isn't tugging a dreadlock, but picking something out of it.
"We're supposed to be artistic guerrillas."

Jam nods. For a while there is silence, until, for the first time, Muggy chips in.
"There was a programme on telly 'bout that the other night,"
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, artistic gorillas -- rich toffs're paying thousands of dollars for their paintings." I take off my glasses and rub my face.
"Here, look!" Kate reappears with a sheet of paper. "Just look at the freshness, the spontaneity. That's one of Adams."

It's the usual vomit splodge of glitter, crayon and poster paint.

"You can't bring a five year-old on a covert operation." I say firmly.
"That's discrimination -- you won't get your grant that way." Kate looks set to huff, but then something occurs to her.
"Covert? I thought you said it was all going to be above board? Now we're applying for the grant and everything?"
"Ye-eah, but if we don't get the grant, we need to be -- prepared. There's so much to do before the deadline -- we haven't even done our budget."
My Nan had a budgie once," breaks in Muggy. "He could sing bits of hymns in Welsh."
"I don't see why we need the grant in the first place," says Jam. "It's just taking us away from the original concept of R.A.D. -- Random Acts of Decoration. We've all got old tins of paint -- why not use them -- don't need a grant. And it's better -- using our own resources."
"He's got a point, you know," adds Kate, "I can't see them looking too kindly on a bunch of Doleys going round vandalising council property."

Muggy burst into laughter. We all look at him. "Oh," he says suddenly, "Sorry, I thought you said doilies."
"We're NOT vandalising!" I shout, gripping my biro rather too tightly. "We're artistic gueril -- artists, turning an unsightly, stinky, depressing, inhuman heap of concrete into a -- colourful, uplifting, positive energy inducing -- place. But NOT chirpy," I add quickly, 'that's patronising ˆ we're aiming for cheerful."
"That's gonna be tricky too," says Kate, "one person's chirp is another person's cheer."
"That's why we're going to be absolutely clear with our message. Jam -- the designs?"
Jam looks uncomfortable. "Er, they're not quite ready -- I've been trying to think of what Lancaster's famous for apart from the War of the Roses and the Slave Trade."
"NOT the slave trade -- we're trying to make people feel proud."
"Yeah, well, the best I've come up with so far is to paint the bus stop like a sky -- blue with clouds, yeah? And to have a plane on the inside wall."
"Sounds nice -- but why a plane?"
"Well, it'd be a Lancaster Bomber wouldn't it -- after the beer."
"Can't do that," says Kate. "That's product placement. I'm having nothing to do with advertising."
We decided to adjourn the discussion. It was felt we needed some time to readdress our aims.


This story is © 2002 . Please contact the writer is youb wish to publish this story.