Few artists can now afford to live in the Los Angeles Arts District; the financial troubles of the new residents here now center on such things as affording a gourmet meal or something from an upscale boutique.

In the spirit of “if you can’t beat ‘em,” I channeled the figure of the sports star and played my own private little game of basketball on the sidewalks and in the streets, in a place where art studios and art spaces once flourished, now occupied by the likes of the Museum of Ice Cream. I dribbled, I protected the ball from passersby, I reached high for imaginary baskets—all the while paying little attention to my surroundings.

I previously did this performance in the San Francisco Mission District in 2014 and in the Vancouver Downtown Eastside in 2015. For both of those iterations I donned a jersey appropriate to the location—who knew that there was once a hockey team called the Vancouver Millionaires? For Los Angeles I went bigger: Captain America. That star seemed to fit me. I am the hero of my own narrative, after all. Apparently other people feel the same way; superheroes are a booming Hollywood business.

In that sense, perhaps my choice of jersey was site-specific. For this Los Angeles version of the performance, I also added a blonde mullet wig. I also followed the lead of about a half dozen art galleries and extended my performance eastward to nearby Boyle Heights.

Longtime Latino residents say that with the coming of the art galleries, few of them will be able to afford to live in the neighborhood. Dribbling and shooting right alongside those galleries, I periodically broke into celebratory cries and gestures, performatively celebrating my raw talent and achievement.