Creative Life- 2/12/2024

Would you sleep on this mattress, not knowing who had slept there before?  This is what "transitional housing" looks like.  Imagine a 100 year old hotel building, on the outskirts of downtown L.A., and the whole building matches this mattress.  Everything is run down.  The toilet didn't flush either.  I was supposed to live here for several months, eating the pig slop they called food, with no functional toilet, for the CHANCE of getting a "permanent" (aka 2 year lease) apartment subsidized.  There was a wet, black substance, possibly black mold, growing on the wide window sill.  I picked the other mattress, about half as bad.  I was out at 6:30 the next morning, even though I knew there were several days of rain coming.  The "programs" all of you hear about for the homeless, are for the drug addicts and lazy fuckers who never want to work again.  The system is creating government sponsored drug addicts that your tax dollars (and inflation) pay the living expenses for.  There are at least 7 or 8 million of these people across the U.S. that you're paying for already.  There are plenty of those people.  But I'm not one of them.  There are no programs (other than food stamps (Cal Fresh) for people actually trying to work and earn a living again.  See this post for more info on that.

Just to be clear, my goal is to start a small business selling ebooks, real books, a few T-shirts, and my Sharpie art.  I want to use the proceeds from this business to rent a room or apartment, buy a BMX cruiser, start riding again to the level I can, and start slowly losing weight.  That's the goal.  That's always been the goal, since I landed back out on the streets of SoCal in the summer of 2019.  

The main reason a "real job" is out of the question is that, after living in North Carolina for ten years (2008-2018), where I couldn't find ANY job (except taxi driving for a year), I have no work history.  The last "real job" I had that could verify my employment would be a warehouse I worked at in 1997, where I tested computer monitors, drove a forklift, and loaded trucks.  Every job I've had since, taxi driving and "real jobs," the companies have all gone out of business, or been bought out and no longer exist.  I'm 57, really overweight, and can't do any physical jobs at this point.  But there's a lot I can do online.  

At this point, I have a better chance of creating a small business of writing and art, than I have of getting a real job that pays enough to rent a place to live.  I also used to be a part time flipper, buying storage unit auction units, and selling the stuff for cash.  That's a good way to make some money, week to week.  With a vehicle and a place to store stuff, I could do that as well.  That would combine well with the online business idea.  I always made some money doing that, I did it part time when I drove a taxi in 2004-2007.  So that's the goal, create my own job, rent a place to live, and stabilize my life again.  Then get a bike.  That's all I've been trying to do for nearly 5 years now.  

It's hard trying to build a business right off of the streets.  Really hard.  But that's the only realistic option right now.  And we're heading into a major recession (don't believe the media hype, we're in a recession, financial YouTube is talking about it daily).  I've built online stores twice since 2019, and both times my inability to get a legit bank account held me back.  I didn't realize something that simple would be such an issue.  But when you can't show proof of a physical address, it's an issue.  And no, a P.O. Box won't work.  

Anyhow, here's the last 3 1/2 months worth of drama.  At the end of November, I signed back up for food stamps (aka Cal Fresh), mine had expired at the end October.  I got approved for six months, like usual.  They had the first month on my card the next day.  Cool.  Then I got a free "Obama phone," because I couldn't scrape up enough money to buy a Trac phone, after mine got stolen last summer.

My food stamps didn't come in December, so I figured what I got at the end of November was for December, instead of back-timed for November.  Then they didn't come in January.  I called them in January.  The woman said the money would be on my card in three days.  It didn't come.  So I called again, that woman said they owed me for December and January, and it would all be on my card the next day.  It didn't come again.  As of now, for reasons no one can explain, I haven't had my food stamps payments for December, January, or February.  I'm in the system, it says so on the computer.  But they won't send the payments to my card, for some reason.  If I don't qualify, just say so, and I'll figure something else out.  But their online system says I should be getting the payments, and I'm not getting them, I'm in the system.

I also had a prepaid bank card thing, which allowed me to transfer money out of Paypal, and similar sources, so I could get paid for doing artwork, or other work online.  That card got shut down, no reason given, in December as well.  Then, since I've been following crypto for a couple of years now, I signed up for a Coinbase account.  I know the crypto major bull market is in its early stages, and will play out over the next 12 -18 months.  So I was planning to scrape up $50 or $100, and put it in Bitcoin, Eth, and a couple others, and just let it ride for the next year, as the cycle plays out.  I couldn't fund the account, my "Obama phone" wasn't accepted.  Then, a couple of days later, the new Google account I opened, to have a separate email for the crypto account, got shut down for no reason, as well.  That's the third Google account I've had shut down with no notice, with no reason given.  

With no food stamps in January, I struggled to scrape up food money.  Normal people are pretty generous to homeless people from Thanksgiving to Christmas.  Then the generosity just shuts off.  January is always the hardest month to scrape through.  I was going through my days, and not eating much.  I actually "work" much of every day, though I have to bounce from location to location to do it.  Other than the library, I have to pay, I have to buy something, at most of the locations I work at daily, like fast food joints, Starbucks and similar locations, etc.  Buying a drink or food gives me access to heat or A/C, a place to sit, power (sometimes) wifi, and a bathroom.  So I have to buy something to use those places, and I need bus fare to get from place to place.  That's just everyday life in my situation.  

Because I wasn't eating much, and not eating well, my immune system got depressed.  I got sick in the middle of January, and went to the hospital for three days.  I had some infection that normally I could fight off.  My lack of decent food, and battling the chilly weather, wore me down.  I had some infection, and it landed in my lower left leg, a form of cellulitis.  I've been prone to that since I was a taxi driver in 2007.  When I was leaving the hospital, it took half a day for them to find my belongings, that I had to leave with security in the E.R., when I checked in. When they found my stuff, My sleeping bag and blanket were gone.  The hospital either lost them, or threw them away.  That's a bummer.

From the hospital I got sent to a "homeless rehab" place up in Palmdale.  The people working there were all cool, the food was decent, but luke warm or cold.   But the place was completely underfunded for the services they are supposed to provide.  They had problems getting me my antibiotics three times a day the first few days.  I could barely walk when I got there, and just laid in my little bed, with my leg elevated on my backpack.  I healed up, mostly.  But now my left leg swells up with fluid each day, then the fluid drains at night.  It's still improving over time.  It was back to pretty much normal size this morning.

I talked to the social workers about looking into "housing" after a few days in the rehab place.  Then I didn't see them again.  My social worker went ahead and signed me up for the housing system, at the beginning of February, and I was taken to the sketchy-ass building in downtown L.A., with the nasty mattress in the photo above, and no working toilet for my room.  So I left.

Then I had to deal with a couple of 38 to 40 degree (F) nights, the first with no sleeping bag.  Luckily, a person I know in this area gave me a sleeping bag the second day.  That was a life saver.  It's good down to about 45 or 50 degrees, so I want to buy a moving blanket for additional warmth at night.  Those are compact, and are good insulation for their size.  I squeaked through the huge rainstorm, 7.25 to 8.25 inches of rain in about four days, where I'm at.  One night, I set down my big, trash bag wrapped sketch pad, to put on my poncho, when leaving a business.  I spaced out, and left my sketchpad there.  It had the finished "Regrets" drawing (below), a large doodle art (black and white) drawing, and a couple smaller things.  Not a huge loss, but still a bummer.  So I have to buy a new sketch pad before I can do any more drawings.  Another thing on the list.

Then last night, while I was sleeping, some motherfucker stole my shopping bag, which was tucked behind my legs while I slept.  All my clothes were in it, and about 15 razors, since I have to buy a 20-pack of razors to get one, these days.  So I have the clothes on my back, my laptop, Obama phone, and Sharpies and my basic art supplies.  I have the new sleeping bag.  And that's it.  

I want to be perfectly clear, I'm NOT asking, or hinting that I need help.  I'm just writing this post to explain how fucked up life can be, to vent, and to let everyone know the kinds of things I deal with, and don't write about most of the time.  This is why I scrape by, and haven't been able to get back on my feet.  When you're homeless, things you need, everyday items, are getting lost or stolen, on a regular basis.  These setbacks can take months to recover from.  

It's a beautiful, but chilly morning here in The Valley, north of L.A..  I've been here in a fast food place for over an hour, and it's still only 52 degrees (F) out right now.  It's been a crazy winter, and I'm doing my best to survive, and keep plugging away at the overall goal of getting a functioning business going, and making a living again some day.  But it's been a crazy winter, I have a bunch of stuff to replace, and I can't even do artwork right now.  But I keep plugging away at it.  

So that's my status right now, as a creative guy working to earn a legit living again.  Again, I'm not asking for help or any items.  I'm just writing about the things I normally don't write about, and letting everyone who follows my work know how things are going.  Thanks for reading, thanks to all who have bought drawings from me, helped me out in some other way, or support me on Patreon (I can't access that $$ right now either, but will be able to soon).  More stuff to come.  I'll try to keep it interesting, most of the time.  

Both legs were swollen at this point, even my hands were.  But the left lower leg was more swollen.  This is the morning after I got to the homeless recuperation place in Palmdale, after three days in the hospital, in mid January.  

"Regrets."  This is the #sharpiescribblestyle drawing that was in the big sketchpad that I left in a restaurant.  It wasn't there when I checked a day later.  Nobody wanted to buy this one, but technically, it's one of my better drawings.  I wanted to do something weird for Halloween, try another idea, and this was the result.  I hope whomever nabbed it likes it.   

I've been doing a lot of writing on Substack lately, check it out:

Steve Emig The White Bear's Substack

 

Creative Life - 3/30/2019

43.  It started as some little inside joke thing among the Curbs Dogs bike/skate posse in 1986 in San Francisco.  It quickly spread to the rest of the Golden Gate Park BMX freestyle and skate scene.  33 years later, for me, it's kind of a little good luck thing when it pops up randomly.  Today started off pretty cool.  I kind of got off track much of the day, wandering half aimless a bit, but I did get some more writing done on the latest project.  I also found a couple of used books in the sale at the library, and for once, I could afford them.

One turned out to suck.  I tossed it at a bus stop.  It was called Tailspin by Steven Brill.  It's whiny, intellectual bullshit by a guy who thinks today's entrepreneurs "just got too good" for the good of society at large, as did other groups.  Waaaaaah.  No, entrepreneurs never get too good, too many things can go wrong at any time, and their reign can end quick, and they know that. Entrepreneurs continually progress and get better, so people who don't progress get left behind.  What that really means is that millions of people just need to step up their game.  That's all. Don't bother reading that book.

The other book, Makers: The New Industrial Revolution, by Chris Anderson (former editor at Wired) is a great read.  It's old, by today's fast-paced tech standards, it's from 2012.  It's all about the Maker's Movement, another D.I.Y. movement in this world, sparked in about 2005, and exploding since.  I've read Chris Anderson's previous books, The Long Tail, and Free, and both completely changed my way of thinking about business in today's world.  I think every business owner needs to read both, make that all three, of these books.

My last drawing, the second Maya Angelou drawing, is now living in Southern California, and waiting to be framed.  I started focusing on my Sharpie art to try and begin to make a living again back in late 2015.  t's become clear that, while I can actually sell drawings consistently, I can't sell them, yet, for enough to put a roof back over my head.  I've learned a lot in my three years as a working artist, but now I'm going to back off on how much I draw, and focus on some more profitable ideas to get myself back on track financially.

A little idea a couple of weeks ago has grown, and been the foundation of other ideas to use some of my other creative skills to work in a different way.  More on that soon.  I'll still doing drawings if anyone wants one, it will just take quite a bit longer, because I'm going to be spending a lot of my time working in other areas that have a better chance of helping me earn a real living- SOON- again. 

So that's it for now.  Thanks for reading.  Now go do something cool.

Creative Life 2/22/2019

The weather has been the big issue for me here in Richmond for weeks now.  It has warmed up some, but it's rainy and in the 40's today.  I want to thank all the people who've helped me out over the last four months, mostly to get a room on the really bad, really cold nights, and stay out of some of the worst weather.  I've slept outside in 14 degrees this winter, and once in 20 degrees with only a tiny, 1/4" thick, U-Haul furniture moving blanket, right after my sleeping bag and two blankets got stolen (confiscated?).  I've struggled through a lot of really rough nights, three of which I was pretty sure I wouldn't survive.

So a huge thanks to (ladies first) Alma Jo Barerra, Kerry Getz, my sister Cheri Durham, my NC friend Rick, Scotty Zabielski, Steve Crandall, Chad Powers, Creson, Tobias Rudt, Bill Bunting and Johanna,and whomever I'm forgetting right now.  All of you have helped me survive this winter in some way, and I really do appreciate it.  Those who have sent me money, no matter what you say, I consider that money as a loan, and in tend to pay it back when possible (and buy Creson a sleeping bag to replace the borrowed one that was stolen).  

I'd also like to thank the guys who ordered "The Spot" 2-zine pack from me, but haven't received it yet.  I over extended myself, betting on some artwork sales and a few more zine sales that didn't come through, in order to be able to ship those orders on time.  I will send those out as soon as I can.  I apologize for the delay.

When I escaped North Carolina last August, I landed here in Richmond, a completely unfamiliar city, with $3 or $4 in my pocket.  I didn't know a single person, not realizing  old BMX friend Steve Crandall lives here most of the time.  I was broke and homeless at about the lowest level possible.  Most people have very little idea of what homelessness is like, for good reason, they've never been there.  There are a whole series of levels of street survival, mostly levels of stability in one aspects or another.  I was near the bottom, and I've spent nearly 7 months slowly moving up to a more stable level of homelessness.  There are about 25 levels of housing and homelessness, and I've moved up the ladder a bit.  From the outside, that doesn't seem like much, but it's actually a kind of a win.  Shit, I spent 17 1/2 hours outside during a snowstorm that dumped 11 inches, just being alive is a win at this point. 

But in Southern culture in particular, poverty is most often seen as failure and a personal defect, and a large number of people actually believe that poor and homeless people are being punished by God and actually deserve the trauma of street life.  Seriously.  I was thinking of this last night while waiting for a bus and watching "respectable" guys who have houses and good jobs, walk into the strip joint across the street from the bus stop.

My fingers and toes have taken a beating this winter, I've had frostnip, the beginning of frostbite, a couple dozen times, in my fingers and toes.  I've managed to avoid going past that point, which is a really good thing.

Throughout the last seven months, including the winter, I've stayed as creative as I could.  I've been drawing, but I'm also doing a lot more writing.  I've started my first novel online, Dead Mall Bounce, (intro and 3 chapters ready to read now) which I'm writing serially.  It starts with Chapter 11 now, the first ten chapters will be a flashback.

I've also got "The Spot" BMX zines done, and need to ship the rest out, as I mentioned.  I'm also writing a smaller zine about how I managed to sell 50 major pieces of art, while homeless, while I was in Winston-Salem.  A lot of artists out there show their art, but not all that many sell their work consistently.  This small zine will share what I've learned by selling somewhere around 100 drawings in the last three years, and I'll give more depth on some of those thoughts here in the blog.

Right before writing this post, I listened to this TED Talk on the subject of poverty.  The speaker brought up one great point, Poverty robs people of the future.  In a recent phone call, my friend Rick in NC asked me what my long term plans were.  I knew it would be 35 degrees and rainy that night, potentially fatal conditions.  I told Rick, "Surviving tonight, that's my long term plan.  Then I have to simply survive tomorrow night." When life is reduced to the level of simple survival day to day, there is no future.  No plans can be made.

Now, winter is not done yet (Fuck you Punxutawney Phil!), but we're getting to the point where I can begin to take a longer view of life.  I don't know if I'm going to stay in Richmond for very long, it depends on whether I can begin to make a living REAL QUICK.  If not, Hello SoCal!  But in the meantime, I need to promote my art and writing, and sell what work I can around here.  There are several art scenes here in Richmond, so we'll see how that goes.

That's where I'm at right now.

Creative Life: 12/3/2018

Last week, I started a GoFundMe Campaign to get myself off of the streets and into business.  At this point in my life, I have one reasonable way to make a living again.  Art and writing.  That's it.  That's Plan A.  There is no Plan B.  I don't have to live my life by any of your standards.

Why don't I get a "real" job, some people ask me.  Even more people think it, but don't ask.  One, I don't have a valid ID at the moment, so that's not an option immediately.  Even when I get an ID, it's still not a viable option.  There's no job I could get here, in this region of the country, where I could ever make a decent living again.  I tried it.  I spent ten years of pure, living Hell, in North Carolina, unable to get ANY job.  I applied for over 140 jobs online, and simply never heard back, except from one Wendy's restaurant.  When I interviewed, the manager said she could use me part time.  A week later, when I went back after not hearing from her, she had changed her mind and didn't bother to tell me.

OK.  Lesson learned.  I'm not going to find a good paying job in NC.  So I started working to create my own job with my artwork.  I started, LITERALLY, without a dime to my name.  I just had some art supplies and a lame laptop.  After being a taxi driver for years, which is actually a small business, not a job (taxi drivers don't get paychecks), I think like a businessperson.  I don't think like an employee anymore.

I started with nothing, I had to become homeless escape a highly toxic environment, and I lived in a tent all last winter, got fucked over by several people, and still managed to build a small, but steady income selling original art.  Then came more drama, and it became apparent that I would not be able to build a decent income in that area.  A bullshit arrest and an mob with baseball bats outside my tent one night, threatening to beat the fuck out of me, proved that making a decent living in North Carolina would never happen.  I gave it one last go, but I had to escape.  I mean "escape" literally.  North Carolina does not like intelligent, free thinkers, and it does not like creative people.  Fine.  I don't like North Carolina.  So I left.

I landed here in Richmond by accident, and got stuck here.  It's a pretty cool city, there's a huge group of art scenes here, murals all over, and a cool  BMX scene.  That's most of my criteria.  This place need s serious skatepark, but that's another issue.

Can I make a living here?  I don't know yet.  But I'm finally able to BEGIN really working in that direction.  I've been homeless for four months here, and it's been tough.  I nearly died in the hospital from a drug reaction when I went in for a leg infection.  It was a legit accident, no one knew I had an allergy to that medicine.  But it still sucked.  I partially threw my back out the other day, and spent Saturday evening sleeping outside in a ton of pain.  Hey, shit happens.  I keep going.  I'm feeling better now, managed to loosen the back up for the most part.

I finally got to a point where I could begin to plan beyond the day in front of me.  I started a GoFundMe campaign for $10,000 in six months.  Let me be absolutely clear, I'm not asking for ten grand in donations. It's a sales goal.  IF I can do $10,000 in sales in six months, I SHOULD be able to make the transition to a fairly stable small businessman with a place to live.  That's what it takes.  There is no house of guys I know where I can rent a room for $200 a month and get back on track cheaper.  I have to earn it, and that's all there is to it.  It takes thousands of dollars to go from the streets to my own place.  Since I started that crowdfunding campaign, I've made some sales, got a working phone from a friend that I need to learn how to use, and written most of a small book I'm going to sell.  That's in five days.  It's a good start.  Things are looking up.

But suddenly people are popping out of the woodwork to "help" me.  I shut down one completely hypocritical Facebook preacher right away, and then got called an "antichrist" and a piece of shit.  By an online preacher.  Another person, one much more likely to be helpful, is trying to get me into a housing program.  It takes MONTHS of wasting time and jumping through hoops to get a ghetto apartment through those.  I'll look into it, but it's unlikely they will have anything to help me.  We'll see.

I NEED TO SELL THE SHIT I MAKE.  Period.  Not to the whole world.  Not to everyone.  Just to a fairly small number of people who like what I do.  $10,000 sounds like a lot, but every single one of you reading this will spend far more than $10K to survive in the next six months.  It may not be money you earned, but you'll spend more than $10K.

I've been fighting for survival since my bank account was inexplicably shut down a couple weeks after 9/11 happened, 17 fucking years ago!  I'm still here.  Don't suddenly pop into my life and pretend you're saving my ass.  If you can legitimately help, cool.  If not, have a nice day.  Go on your way and do your thing.

The more this bullshit happens of people popping out of nowhere, suddenly worried that I'm homeless, the more it seems that Richmond IS NOT the place I need to be.  I'm on the fence already.  I can hop a bus to Southern California for less money that a cheap motel room here for a week.  And rent out there is no more expensive than it is here.  A "weekly" motel or a decent room in an apartment is about the same both places.  If I'm able to make a living in Richmond doing my thing, cool.  If it becomes apparent that I won't be able to, then I'll move back home to SoCal.  That's where I'm at.

Next day...  Hmmm... My back was jacked up, just had to vent, I guess.