Dear Anonymous,
He doesn't love to be photographed. But he gives permission. He's looking for a pair of shoes we had for him yesterday. But he can't find them. Size 15.
'I wasn't coherent yesterday.' he whispers in a quiet and raspy voice.
He asks for sage, a pair of socks 'Can you spare two?'. He needs a shower he says. We get some clean clothes rounded up.He taps his medicine bundle with his hand, near his heart and nods his head ever so slightly with gratitude to Maria, of the Penobscot Nation.Thank you.
He does not like being photographed and changes his posture immediately when the camera comes out ...but he allows me and I know this is a gift from him. He is a man of tender heart.
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.
Just checking message al mercado
Just checking message al mercado
Is this not the blessing I had always wanted?
Dear Anonymous,
He has been waiting this morning. Grateful for a coffee card. Excited for some clothing that fit. And he watches as folks come and go.
And then, quietly, almost a whisper says to me
'Ya' know , if you wanna' take a picture of me you can.'
Only he asks it like a question. Like maybe he doesn't know that this is my deepest honor and that when I see him framed up in the viewfinder I kinda' choke up. And then he smiles. Like this.
Is this not the blessing I had always wanted?
He can play that guitar just so it lights up the street.
He can play that guitar just so it lights up the street.
Boda Performer, Oaxaca, Mexico.
Boda Performer, Oaxaca, Mexico.
Today it was so wet everyone went inside to get a coffee.
Dear Anonymous,
Today it was so wet everyone went inside to get a coffee. All seemed quiet enough. Not always the case. Today everyone seemed subdued. Most often for me it is a simple task of handing out coffee cards you have provided. Or socks. And the sought after Blueberry Coffeecake.
The river I walk into though each morning is an ever changing constantly contradictory turbulence of stories and rumors and defensive postures... and I can struggle to sort through truth from fiction, lines of defense, attacks, constant transferential tsunamis and more. So I choose the advice of someone who wrote something like: Get so busy loving someone you no longer have time for the disappointment, or any other form of judgement. Amen. Sunday morning service.
He is waiting with others. Fairly mild out and that's a grace. He is kind and willing to be photographed.
Dear Anonymous,
He is waiting with others. Fairly mild out and that's a grace. He is kind and willing to be photographed. He makes contact with the camera, with the lens, with the light and I am always grateful.
Everybody seems a bit out of sorts. Resentments. Unspoken frustrations. Holiday contact with family not always a great thing.
A coffee card can only go so far. And socks. And these beautiful sweatshirts and fleece hats recently donated. Thank you for all of this. Because often, in the moment it is far enough.