Bazooka Joe

Adi Mendel (55) grew up in Bat Yam, the only son of a real estate and car dealer father and a housewife mother. It was a wealthy family that lacked almost nothing - except what a child really needs. Says and does not specify. "My mother would draw. Not for a living, because she did not have to work, but as a hobby. I, perhaps in response to my mother's attitude, could not stand paintings. I hated colors. I did not touch the brush. At the end it is probably in the DNA.

When he became a drug addict, his family members, including his brother from his father's late marriage, turned their backs on him. "I had no one to ask for help from, " he says, "so I started breaking the law, mostly on property offenses, to fund the drugs. I did it reluctantly, with great sorrow. 'Forced crime, ' I call it."

The drug addiction and crime brought him to a total of six years behind bars, with all this time a tremendous talent hidden deep within him and not knowing how to break out. "I saw death with my own eyes, " says Bazooka Joe, mentioning, once again, how long the distance is between someone who was so close to ending his life in a tiny cell, alone, and someone who is gaining fame today.

His talent stood out from the canvas in the eyes of anyone who witnessed his paintings. He asked his stage name from the character on the gum covers. "Bazooka Joe was a sniper in the United States Army and I was a sniper with a paintbrush, " he explains. "Plus, I connect to the naivety of the bright colors."

His works also began to make waves among those interested in the field of art. He left the gallery three years ago, after his works were priced at well over a thousand dollars. Among the buyers of Bazooka Joe's art are businessman, controlling shareholder and CEO Castro Gabi Rotter, publicist Rani Rahav and the Wertheimer industrialist family. They are now joined by another satisfied customer - the prison service. Today, Bazooka Joe focuses on art. Addiction to creation has replaced drug addiction, "but it's a good addiction, " he says.

To close a circle with his rough past, the artist painted with the approval of the Tel Aviv Municipality on the walls of the Abu Kabir Prison