The Unknown Abstract Artist from Boston’s Dorchester Neighborhood
When I first met this cool abstract artist from Boston, Mr. Kenyatta Wilson, he and I were in detox together at Dimick Center. He was just out on the balcony exercising, doing some dips off the side of one of the sitting benches one morning outside of the cafeteria.
“What’s up, O.G.,” I said to him, not knowing his name yet, but just recognizing and respecting the fact that he was an older guy than I was (when a younger person calls another older person, male or female, “O.G”, it’s a sign of respect in the Black neighborhood). “I see you’re getting those dips in…are you originally from Boston?”
“Yep,” he responded, breathing a little heavily from his morning workout.
“Which neighborhood?”
“Dorchester, born and raised. And you? Where are you from?”
“Myrtle Beach.”
“Oh, okay! Well, welcome to Boston. Myrtle Beach…is that North or South Carolina?” he asked.
“South. Close to the North Carolina border though.”
Being from the Carolina’s, I always inquire about whether or not the folks I meet here are originally from here, being that Boston has so many different people from different places. In fact, according to one piece that was published by The South End Historical Society, the south end is considered the city’s “melting pot”, a term that’s defined by Merriam Webster as “a place where a variety of peoples, cultures, or individuals assimilate into a cohesive whole”.
The Unrevealed Abstract Artist from Boston’s South End
Dorchester is mainly located at “the southern edge of the city” according to WBUR News. And, just like many other regions around Boston, it’s also packed with lots of talent, such as Mr. Wilson, who I would soon find out after both of us ended up at the same residential program, Askia Academy, that this man was very likely one of the best, most unknown abstract artists in Boston.
It was actually a few weeks before we both got to Askia that I knew he had skills in composing abstract drawings. He was just sitting all by himself at a table in one of the lounges, just concentrating on something really hard. I mean, he was so focused that I just had to see what he was up to.
So, I curiously approached him while he was working, peeked over his shoulder, and noticed that he was sketching a beautiful forest scene (that was similar to the picture below) from his imagination with colored pencils. “Oh my God!” I said. “I didn’t know you could draw like that! Damn! How long have you been doing this?”
“Oh, I’ve been drawing for years, ever since I was a kid,” the strikingly skilled Bostonian artist told me as he continued working on the interesting piece. “It gives me peace of mind.”
“Man, everybody needs to see this,” I emphatically responded while gazing at his work. “Everybody in Dorchester, in Boston…hell, everybody all over Massachusetts! Have you ever tried to sell any of your stuff around here?”
“No. I just really do it for the pleasure of doing it.” Kenyatta paused for a moment, turned towards me, then continued speaking. “You know how you told me the other day that your writing keeps you sober?” he asked.
“Yeah…” I said.
“Well, same here. When I do this, I don’t even think about using drugs or alcohol. Drawing is like a healthy vice for me.”
Displaying Mr. Wilson’s Artwork for All of Boston To See
I went on to tell Mr. Wilson how contemporary artwork in Boston is of such a huge public interest in Suffolk County, Massachusetts, and its surrounding areas, and that I felt that all he needed was a little exposure. I filled him in about my SEO (Search Engine Optimization) Writing/Editing Service for businesses, Trade Storytelling, and went to my LinkedIn profile to show him my extended experience with helping business owners and start-up entrepreneurs with rising on their regional search engine rankings by using original interview articles and stories.
I truly felt that, in time, Kenyatta could definitely host his very own art gallery in Boston, and he agreed to let me interview him for written pieces, this one that you’re reading right now being the first. “You said you’ve been drawing since you were a kid,” I said. “Do you remember what age exactly?”
He thought for a second, then spoke. “Probably about my mid to late teens,” he responded.
“And, how old are you now?”
He chuckled, then said, “Let’s let the people guess from the profile picture.”
I laughed along with the fun-loving Boston abstract sketch artist, knowing instinctively from our first few conversations that he and I were going to be friends for a long time.
