Life as a homeless artist/writer/wannabe entrepreneur can get pretty weird at times. I met up with a friend yesterday morning, and chilled for a while. He had some of my older drawings, so I was able to get them and later take them to Studios at 625 (Trade Street Art scene/Winston-Salem), where Rachel White said she'd like some more of my stuff to put up. I did some work at the library for a while, then headed to the gallery.
I wound up staying there, did some drawing, met several new people, and watched Rachel help a young couple make bowls out of old record albums, and paint them. Good use for your mom's old Osmonds records. Later, the Saturday night poetry jam got started. We were accompanied by a guy whose name I forget (sorry man) who did an amazing job of accompanying us on a bongo drum. That led to some freestyle rapping and impersonations. Good stuff.
I headed out last night, taking a bus, then walking to my campsite. I knew there was rain coming in the early morning, and that it might freeze into a minor ice storm. I wasn't really looking forward to that. As I walked through the woods, I noticed boxes outside my tent. I was tired, burned out, and just wanted to crawl under the covers and get to sleep. I tapped on my tent, and heard two voices come from inside. A young couple. "Are you fucking kidding me?" I asked the universe. I politely, but VERY FIRMLY, told them they needed to get out and go somewhere else. They gave me some bullshit about thinking the camp was abandoned. It took a while, standing there, tired as hell, in 40 degree chill, hoping things wouldn't get stupid.
When you're homeless, you have to be ready for anything. And by "anything," I include situations where you might have to fight, to the death, if necessary. Yes, I mean that absolutely literally. It CAN happen. And I have to be ready for it.
In my 8+ years of homelessness, most of that while working full time as a taxi driver and sleeping in my cab, I've had to deal with a lot of crazy situations. I'm much better at it than I used to be. But things can always go South in a hurry, and get stupid. I was praying to myself last night that it wouldn't happen. The couple got their shoes on, grabbed their stuff, and I pointed the way to a park not too far away with a picnic shelter. I told them rain was coming, and they could at least avoid the rain there. They went a different way. But they left. The guy seemed to be talking some shit in the distance, but I didn't have any other trouble the rest of the might. So if there's an Air Bum n' Bum app to rent out the tents of homeless people, take my damn tent off of it, please. It's in use. And it's sketchy as hell anyway, it's so old.
Then the dang rain came. It rained, and rained, and rained... My bedding is wet around the edges, and it's about 35 degrees out right now. Not going to be the best night, but hopefully I don't have to deal with any more strangers. Just another day in the life of a homeless artist/blogger trying to sell my (kickass) drawings and get back to making a decent living again.
Update: I met my new "neighbors" this morning, we shook hands and made peace. Hopefully things will be chill in the 100 acre woods now.
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