I believe that I am trapped in the thoughts of a writer with no say or way out, I’m terrified that at the end of the last chapter I will no longer exist. I can only hope that the author has a strong vocabulary and a bigger imagination to let me have a happy ending. This is my sentence, where I live life on the pages of white. The author writes words without risk as I am forced to walk his narrative day in and day out, but I forgive the author. I’m not sure if my story is being revealed to him or even if he has the final say. I can only hope that maybe, just maybe the author will let me know my fate. Am I fiction or non-fiction, I just don’t know.
“Which of us has not felt that the character we are reading in the printed page is more real than the person standing beside us?” ― Cornelia Funke
I don’t buy prints from fellow photographers, but while reading the Huffington Post I came across this article titled; Photo Series Captures The ‘Beauty In Every Line’ On The Faces Of LA’s Homeless. There is no better way to describe my reaction to those images then to say “Impact”. I stopped and gave my full attention to this photographic essay of black and white images named “The Elders”. Photographer and artist Aimee Boschet had captured the humanity and dignity of homeless people in America. I didn’t just look at Aimee’s work, I studied it, and absorbed every face. When I came across image number ten of an elderly black man in a straw hat I was gobsmacked.
I ordered that print and it came today. That online image cannot be compared to the 8×10 print that I held in my hands.The elegance and wisdom of this man who life’s journey is written in every line of his face provoked an emotion that is hard to describe. It wasn’t sadness or pity but connection. In spite of his station in life, this image of grace by Aimee is a reminder that we are all brothers and sisters in this life and that we all have a story to tell. My hat is off to Aimee Boschet who’s essays is not about lost souls in a cruel world but is an embodiment of humanity that reveals their soul, even Aimee’s own soul.
According to the Institute for the Study of Homelessness and Poverty at the Weingart Center, an estimated 254,000 men, women and children experience homelessness in Los Angeles County during some part of the year and approximately 82,000 people are homeless on any given night. Unaccompanied youth, especially in the Hollywood area, are estimated to make up from 4,800 to 10,000 of these.
33% to 50% are female. Men make up about 75% of the single population.
About 42% to 77% do not receive public benefits to which they are entitled.
20% to 43% are in families, typically headed by a single mother.
An estimated 20% are physically disabled.
41% of adults were employed within last year.
16% to 20% of adults are employed.
About 25% are mentally ill.
As children, 27% lived in foster care or group homes; 25% were physically or sexually abused
My friends, jump-start your day with a good night’s sleep with the comfort and quality you get from our single steel frame beds. You are guarantee with a life time warrenty to wake up refreshed and ready to roll out of your slumber to start a fun filled day of adventure. To make more of your space, go for the twin beds seen here. All our beds are bolted to the concrete sidewalk with built-in storage giving you space to chain your shopping cart or with the roomy space underneath to slide your backpack underneath. Our urban beds also give you the option to use your backpack, Von’s plastic bags or jackets as a pillow for your catnaps. And we have everything else for your street needs; steel slates for circulation, imaginary firm mattress for your back, and a duvet that you wear. All this to complete your bed in style. We are your Urban Outfitters courtesy of the Los Angeles Homeless Services Authority.
All kidding aside. When one has exhausted all resources and is reduced to the insane condition of toting a small travel bag, aimlessly riding buses, selling plasma, eating in soup kitchens, walking in a dream, sleeping in shelters and parks, and knowing that going to jail is a step up on the social ladder, this is homelessness.
Asleep and protected from the desert heat and drunk predators, Donna finds refuge on a city bus in Las Vegas. She wears gold shoes with a white jump suit that is divided by a belt with sea shells glued to it. Donna’s hair is resting on the top of her head with a gold comb parked in front. She has grown accustom of sleeping over the sound of the diesel engine, air brakes and the frequent stops. Her head rolls from side to side with every turn the bus makes as it travels the back streets of Las Vegas. At first glance, Donna looks as if she has been shopping but the plastic bags are full of clothing and personal hygiene items which props her up right to a vertical sleep. The bags are her only worldly possessions.
A black man sitting next to Donna stares out the window to the lights of the casinos and hotels. He clutches a paper bag. He has no rings on his fingers or a watch on his wrist. His attention is focused on the world outside the window. Here, they are both protected from the elements of Las Vegas and lost in their own world.
As she rested her elbow on an old L.A. Weekly newspaper bin, she continue to smoke from a stubby discarded cigarette.
She then tells me,
“I have more than once made contact with the pavement and it wasn’t so gingerly either, the last time was at the corner of Fairfax and Beverly.”
“She paused, took the last drag of her cigarette and dropped it on the concrete between her battered boots, strange how the world looks from the ground up, I once saw an ostrich too……. all well…. life has no obligation to give us what we expect.”
Green is the color of prosperity and abundance, of finance and material wealth. It relates to the business world, to real estate and property. Prosperity gives a feeling of safety to green.
Waiting for a new lease on life, Bob sits in the late afternoon light to stay warm. Taking a break from reality, Bob looks for geometric colors with complex designs in flowers, and the shades of grays from long shadows that lean on the buildings around him. Bob then begins to count the color of shoes of passing pedestrians. So far the color brown is leading the pack with a pair of Nike neon yellow shoes coming in last.
We are the little people, faceless and sad, we accumulate at a bus stop near Sunset and Sad, as you can see we wait for a bus that will never drew near. We are surrounded by the artificial glitter of the Stars, which provides the illusion of certain happiness which seem more real than where we are. We see the failed sitcom stars and the whole fragile scene as the dumpsters are filled with broken dreams.
After a day of traveling aimlessly along Sunset Boulevard it was time to take a break. It had been a good day of harvesting cigarette butts. Joe had always felt it was his civic duty to help address this serious environmental problem by picking up this toxic waste. Now was the time to sit and enjoy the fruits of his labor. He watched for awhile the congestion of traffic and remembered the time he too lived that life…. but no more. The last few embers glowed at the end of the cigarette as Joe inhaled, and as the white smoke curled up in a spiral motion, he pressed lightly his shirt pocket to the fragment ends of tobacco to insure a reserve till morning. Taking the last drag the ashes glowed brighter and crackled as air passed through the cigarette and the smoke went deeply into his lungs. He dropped the butt on the concrete and stubbed it out in a rhythmical tapping of his right foot. How wonderful it would have been to have a cup of coffee to accompanied his cigarette break he thought. The sun had set, but he had decided to stay sitting on the bench and watch the world drive by and maybe have another cigarette.