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David Goldin
February 2012
Providence Slum Valentine
posted:

It's hard to go back there... REALLY hard... somewhere I'd never want to be again... but here goes... 

I'm in my Sophmore year at the Rhode Island School of Design. It's 2 am. I'm Standing next to a 1906 dentist chair, wearing only my underwear in a bay window overlooking Brown University and there is a huge crowd below pointing at me and shouting... Lights are flashing... I'm a star!
 
98-100 Waterman St.

No... wait... that's not it at all. My friend is screaming from the room next door, "FIRE!" "FIRE!" My door is bending from firemen trying to break it down. It's a huge old house and a really solid oak door. I'm doing everything you're not supposed to do, I'm not thinking clearly. I'd inhaled a lot of toxic smoke. But...
knowing me and how I think... I knew I could always jump from the window. I'd done it before. After I get dressed I look for something to take with me, something to save. I grab something and begin to realize the magnitude of the moment.

With an extra coat in my hand I open the door for the firemen and they lead me out, one in front and one in back of me. Half of the building is in flames... my half. It's an inferno. As we hurry down the stairs flames are bursting out of my friend John's apartment. Is he alive?
We wait and between bursts - run by. I can see through his apartment to the outside. Part of the building is already gone.

 Outside I find my housemates Chris, Liza and John. We cling to each other in tears. John doesn't have a coat - it's winter and he's barely dressed - I give him the one I have.

 It was snowing heavily as we walked to friends around 4 am.  By 7 am there was a foot of fresh snow.  We were up and back at our house to see if we could salvage anything... shoes...?
 It looked like the Ice House from Dr. Zhivago.
 

 We asked R.I.S.D. for help, we were homeless. Our parents all lived in different states and one house mate's parents were out of the country. We didn't have credit cards, cash or any I.D.      
R.I.S.D. did NOTHING!

We all got in-completes on our Winter Session projects.
 
Thank You!  Fire Dept. of Providence, R.I. 1983
Those guys ran into a building that was totally on fire - all three floors. Real Heroes!
My Furry Valentine
posted:
I once had a little furry studio mate - my sweet heart... my Valentine.
He liked to go up high. Always finding new places to go up.
Will you be my Valentine?

I'm talking to an art director about a job.
I know the cat is looking for up but it's not my concern.

In one leap he could jump from the floor to the top of the refridgerator. He liked to perch on the top of doors...

...discovering his wild instincts.

I forgot to mention his breeding. A Bengal. The name Bengal cat was derived from the taxonomic name of the Asian Leopard Cat (P. b. bengalensis), and not from the more distantly related Bengal tiger.... Oh really?

  Mid sentence my conversation turned into a primal scream. A twelve pound Bengal was tearing deep into my mid back - claws raking down with all his weight dug in. SO painful...    ...I was bloody.

 
I couldn't believe the art director was still on the phone  when I picked it up.
I tried to explain what happened but they didn't want to know - didn't give me a chance. What did they think?
Neosporin... Bacitracin... Hyrdogen Peroxide... HELP!

The sleep after the kill.

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Goldin is teaching at TutorMill, an online mentoring site for students of illustration!