The card that Mike received as part of a gift after a weekend when he overdosed...

Dear Anonymous,

The card that Mike received as part of a gift after a weekend when he overdosed and was good as dead had no one intervened with Narcan. He is hanging onto it. Closely.
Says it helps him.He is grateful for it, thank you Dear Anonymous.

In a world where a policeman came through and said,
'I'm sick of all your needles. I'm sick of all you addicts. You should all die.'
When this is what is said out loud to you.
Mike is clear this is not ALL police.
Not at all. And he was very clear about this.

But words can cut like knives.
Homeless. Not heartless.

They always ask how I am. Which is not a given. Which is not a question one can assume will be asked...

Dear Anonymous,
They always ask how I am. Which is not a given. Which is not a question one can assume will be asked. When folks are really struggling there is little energy or ability to ask a question like that. I ask about those that don't show up. Where's Ed? Chandler? Grey Wolf? The list goes on. The responses vary from shakes of a head to exasperated sighs to knowing silences and sideways glances at the sidewalk.
They ask 'Why do you guys do this? Why are you guys kind to US?' I note the tone of self deprecation. Of loathing.
And the answer is, Why would we not?
Thanks Dear Anonymous for the help with coffee cards and socks and clothing. It all helps. Thank you for connecting.

To Be This Cat

To Be This Cat 

(memory from May 15th 2016)

Love in the Age of Covid19. The couple wore matching gloves and coordinated masks.

Love in the Age of Covid19. The couple wore matching gloves and coordinated masks.

Having no where to arrive at. With an aching chronic back.

Dear Anonymous,
He said 'I have no where to sit. No where to go in and sit down. To rest my back. Is it going to rain today? Will it get warmer?'
There is no where during the day for him. The resources available before the shut down are no longer available. The centers, the library, the bus, the mall all closed.
You cannot linger in a coffee shop.
There is no where to go until night where he fortunately he has a place to stay.
Having no where to arrive at. With an aching chronic back.
I will double bless my home today. Give gratitude to my lumpy bed. My stained ceilings. For this place to arrive at.
I will search for a camp chair to offer him. I will search.

Her Painters' Hands

Her Painters' Hands

Any artist I know will likely see these hands and smile a smile of some sort of satisfaction.

Dear Anonymous,

Any artist I know will likely see these hands and smile a smile of some sort of satisfaction.
She is once again without anything. Everything lost. Everything stolen. Has court in a couple of hours and is freezing but she is smiling.
Her hands covered in paint, her eyes wild with excitement .
'I'm painting! We're working on a mural! Hope they don't steal our supplies...we're usin' anything we can find. Chalk, paint, pastels.'
She is animated and her face shines, her eyes twinkle as she describes talking about the images of waves and water and flowers in a beautiful interpretive dance on the city sidewalk.
She gathers a couple pair of pants (thank you Dear Anonymous) a clean shirt and a coffee card to settle herself before court.
But she can't wait to get back to that wall.
The creative spirit needing to be fed.

He's soiled again. Won't go to the doctor.

Dear Anonymous,
He's soiled again. Won't go to the doctor. 'Everyone in my family goes to the doctor comes home dead.'
I am in no place to fight with that logic.
But I have dry pants for him.

Mike says,
'My night was SO bad, I NEED this today.' And he means delivering more toys. Toddler lego tables and bags of pieces and an assortment of dolls and Hotwheels and a little action figure one of his little buddies requested.
'He'll be so excited!'
He is organized and has a plan to distribute them.

One of them, often sited for being 'difficult', has upset the group by defecating in the 24 Hour ATM and depositing the waste in the deposit drawer. At least this is the story.
'Gives us homeless guys a bad name.'
Socks. Coffee cards. Good mornings. And bad.

Another man who is new to me and sort of embarrassed by wearing a donated barn coat with a white denim collar. It's all he has and is not ungrateful for it but asks,
'Can you help me out?'
A trade in on the coat and he's outfitted in a new lightweight down coat, a new hoodie, a clean tshirt and some beautiful donated shirts.
And he's back in action.

'Gosh. This turned my whole day around.'
Thanks Dear Anonymous.

Medicine Bag making, four sacred medicines and hands like a prayer.

Medicine Bag making, four sacred medicines and hands like a prayer.
An extraordinary visit to the 6th Annual Maine-Wabanaki REACH Wabanaki Wellness Gathering at King Middle School, Portland Maine. — with Penthea Burns and Maria Girouard.