I was homeless, scraping by, and needed a place where I could just set up where there was some foot traffic, and actually sell a little bit of my artwork, at least to buy food while I worked on the other ideas I have. It was tough, I lost about 12 pounds the first week, because I just couldn't afford to eat much. (Starving Artist Diet book coming soon?) I struggled on, trying to sell some artwork, and find the basic things I need to operate day to day.
In six weeks, starting with that 81 cents, two bags, and a shitload of determination (the only thing I have huge quantities if these days), I've managed to get my California driver's license, a P.O. Box, a small storage unit, and got my Paypal account opened back up so I can use it. To most people, those things might not seem like a big deal. I needed a mailing address (and physical one) to get my driver's license, which makes the P.O. Box necessary. To do much of anything, I need an I.D. of some sort, my NC license was thrashed, and had expired while I was trying to get things going again. Since selling my Sharpie art is my main source of income right now, and most is sold outside this area (until I build my rep here), I need a way to actually receive money, I don't have a traditional bank account right now. So I had to get Payal unfrozen, and part of proving to them that I was really me, involved my ID. So I needed these basic things to get the other basic things.
A huge part of the progress I've made is due to Sven from Norway, and old school BMXer and now Facebook friend, selling my art in Norway and elsewhere in Europe. Thank you Sven! He says my blog got him stoked to get back riding again after an injury, and he's gone above and beyond to sell copies of my drawings over there. So thank you for that, hope the Norwegians and old schoolers of Europe keep digging my drawings for a while, and the old schoolers here get to see my stuff and some of them like it.
Meanwhile, I weighed about 310 when I got up here, and was carrying 30-35 pounds of stuff, everywhere I went. That just sucks so hard, it's hard to explain how lame that is. So with a tiny (but fucking expensive) storage unit, I could put the stuff I don't need in the course of the day in a safe place. So that's huge as well. So I've managed to get all these accomplished in six weeks, again starting with 81 cents. So I'm REALLY stoked. I CAN WORK NOW. After being held down for 18 years, all I want to do is create cool shit and work my ass off (figuratively and literally).
That's me, in the photo above, a couple of weeks ago, at the place on Hollywood Boulevard, near Highland, where I set up and sell a little bit of my artwork on the street. It's actually about 100 feet from where I sold my very first Sharpie scribble style drawing for $5, while homeless, in 2008. that was a picture of an grey alien that said "Illegal Alien." Hollywood & Highland is a crazy, chaotic place where tourists from around the world look for the stars of famous actors and musicians, up-and-coming actors dress in costumes of characters and take photos for tips with tourists, musicians, dancers and other street performers vie for the attention, and money, of those same tourists, and the place is famous worldwide. In the middle of all that chaos, local shopkeepers sell pizza, donuts, souvenirs, bus tours, and all kinds of other stuff, all while random homeless people and full blown crackheads wander around as well. Hollywood may be more weird than Venice Beach these days.
I've spent most of my life avoiding places like Hollywood & Highland, but it turned out to be one of the few places I could walk up, put some art out, and try to sell it. Hollywood is one of the creativity capitals of the world, and they're pretty friendly to creative people. The initial reason I came back to California turned out to be a job beyond my abilities, at least without a huge ad agency-sized budget. So I headed to Orange County, where I lived nearly the whole stretch from 1987 to 2008, to try build my life back up with my art and other work. I know Orange County well, I have lots of old friends there (I'm not calling all of you old... well, yes I am, we're all in our 40's or 50's now, heh, heh). It seemed the best place to reboot my life. I spent nearly ten years in North Carolina, which simply has an anti-creative culture by and large. There are little pockets of really cool, creative people, but not enough creative infrastructure for me to build a life, or make a good living there. I just don't fit in The South, it's a world unto itself.
There's one thing I need I want to be really clear about. I didn't just wake up one day and say, "Hey, I don't really want to work anymore, I think I'll just have fun and become a Sharpie artist." I couldn't find a good paying "real job" in North Carolina. In fact, over ten years, I couldn't find any job in North Carolina, except as a taxi driver for a year, and that didn't pay. I became a taxi driver in California in 1999, after I left a good paying lighting tech job because of an injury. Taxi driving began to die in 2003, due to new technology, and I struggled for years, then wound up homeless. Ultimately, that led to my family flying me to North Carolina, where they all ended up living. They thought I'd be able to start over there. It turned out to be just the opposite.
After my dad's death in 2012, I moved in with my mom, which is an incredibly toxic environment, with lots of good food. So I got really depressed and got really fat (again). But I also applied for about 140 jobs, mostly low wage, entry level jobs, in the area where I was. Of all those, I got one call back, from a fast food place, and they didn't hire me. I'm a good worker, but I don't fit the mold in NC, and there are dozens, sometimes even hundreds, of people vying for every job there. You have to know somebody to even get a shitty job there, and I didn't know anybody who was hiring people.
So after a couple years of not hearing back about jobs I applied for, struggling with depression, and driving my mom around all the time to stores and doctor's appointments, I realized I needed to create my own job. The Californian in me was up for that challenge. The North Carolinians I knew thought I was an idiot, they don't think like that. The only thing I did that made me any money, was drawing kid's names in my Sharpie scribble style, for $20 a drawing, once in a while. So I decided to step up my art game, draw something that was really worth paying for, learn to promote it online, and go all in on selling my Sharpie art.
I started with some art supplies, a $65 refurbished laptop, an internet connection, and not a single dime to my name. Living with my mom, I couldn't hang on to any money, she needed every dime. She has this super power where she can create a crisis that requires the exact amount of money you have. That's part of the fun of living with her. So I, quite literally, started without a dime to my name.
Since then, I've done over 100 drawings, sold over 80 originals, most of which took me a week to draw. I've sold about 40 or 50 copies of drawings as well. On one hand, that's awesome. Not many people in this world have sold over 80 major pieces of art in four years, let along after starting with nothing. On the other hand, since I started with nothing, I've scraped by, drawing by drawing, and been homeless most of that time, since I never had a chunk of money to actually "start my business," like most small businesses do. When you're homeless, no one takes you seriously, it doesn't matter what skills you have, what personal tragedy may have happened to you, you just get lumped in with the crackhead sleeping on the bus bench down the street. You're "just another lazy bum," no matter your skills, talents, abilities, or drive. So I've had to struggle through this just fuckin' insane series of adventures to try and get to a point where people took me seriously as a guy who makes, and sells, pretty cool artwork.
Four years in, I'm just now, finally, getting to the starting point of building a business. A lot of people have helped me out in many ways, by buying my work, or helping me sell it, or giving me a bit help or money now and then, to help me simply survive that day, and keep going. Thanks to all of you. I can't send you all a really cool gift, not yet, but I really want that day to come. It's still a day to day struggle for me, I still sleep outside nearly every night, and it's still a day to day struggle. But things are looking up, and in the past couple of weeks in particular, the tide seems to be turning in my favor. So that's where I'm at right now.
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