last night my wife and i went on the art walk in downtown phoenix. after visiting the Irish cultural center we walked over to the Japanese garden that is in the park. i showed her where Steve and Dena used to stay.
   
today my son Danny, Anna and i spent a few hours in the park with our homeless friends. one of them has AIDS. she can't afford the meds so basically she's dying. the new billion dollar light rail train runs nearby. downtown is becoming more sophisticated and yet right in the middle of the art galleries, the cafes and the office buildings a woman is dying in plain sight...slowly, on a dirty blanket near a new library. maybe you've seen her...

i wandered through the zone with a bag of clothes to give away. i was alone. i'm not a preacher, a social worker, a doctor... just an artist/construction worker who gives away socks, poetry, shirts, tooth brushes...
   
i felt insignificant.

Liars...addicts lie. that should come as no surprise. they act erratically and selfishly. we make friends with addicts at the park and in the zone. they are good actors. i still get tricked even after all the years of being around them. you want to believe the best, that they really will follow up on their promises, but the reality is that when you become vulnerable you will often be taken advantage of. it comes with the territory.
   
my son and his wife host homeless people for dinner. they recently cooked steak and potatoes for some people who we often see at the park. during dinner their guests left for a few minutes and came back high. at eleven at night one of them returned, asking for help for her companion who was so high he couldn't stand up. Danny checked out the situation and went back home. the person was in no danger other than of getting picked up for sleeping on a sidewalk.
   
at four in the morning this person came back to my son's house and started banging on the door and screaming. my son was at work. my daughter in law was home alone with her 18 month old daughter. what started out as a birthday dinner for a homeless man ended up with the police showing up to quell the commotion.
   
this won't stop us from reaching out. it's just so sad. we have contacts with churches, rehab centers, missions, people who find work for the homeless. we never push an agenda. we just let it be known that if you want help we'll be there for you. some are just not ready to climb out of the hole.
   
i'm going back to the park tomorrow. my son will go with me. we'll take free socks, clothes and wool hats. we'll also take mercy, compassion, love and forgiveness which was paid for by Someone else...

Dichotomy...sometimes i'm struck by the contrast of our homeless outreach. it's a collision of total opposites. Anna has a sense of wonder. she views life through a camera lens and is attracted to color, wildlife, flowers, clouds, sunsets...
   
the people we reach out to have lost their sense of wonder. they do not dream anymore. they live in a world of greys and browns. this extends beyond being simple metaphor or symbolism. they dwell in the shadows, spiritually and physically.
   
and i'm somewhere in between. my life has been a long rugged journey that has been intertwined with incredible joy and blessings. many years ago i chose sobriety. God has allowed me to use art as an instrument of healing for others. if not for His love and rescue it might be me living in a park, strung out on drugs...that is if i would have survived.
   
so it is my joy to watch this amazing kindness of brightly colored photos being placed in the hands of those who desperately need to regain wonder and hope. God is good.

it's raining right now. the temperature will be dropping into the 30's tonight. i'm warm and dry. one of my sons is throwing a party so the house is full of food, hot cider and cocoa. i can hear the rain outside and wonder where all of the homeless people go on nights like this.
   
it's not guilt that i feel. it's concern. just knowing that there are human beings in my city sleeping in mud or on wet concrete is unsettling. many of them live that way because of addictions. bad choices have consequences. i understand that logically but my heart chokes on the facts. these are people. they are not disposable. each one has inestimable value. now they are cold, damp and caked with mud. their    backpacks are soggy.
   
i will eat well tonight, watch ESPN, spend time with family and friends but part of my heart is in the zone, the park, the alleys...
   
it's raining outside and i am dry...

Anna and i went to the zone today. we handed out some orange juice, candy canes, cookies, clothes and pictures. we drove to the south end where there are always a few people who don't stay at the shelter. i parked my truck and we handed out more food and of course many of Anna's photos.
   
as we were leaving a Black man in a wheelchair waved at us. we got out of the truck. i threw down the tailgate and Anna got out her guitar. she sang a Christmas song. the man took off his hat, closed his eyes and smiled. it was as if the music breathed some life into him. three minutes of peace in homeless hell. this is what art is for.

today is Steve's birthday. my son Danny went to the park to pick up him and Dena for a steak dinner at his house. he couldn't find them. Half Dead hadn't seen them but Bad Santa heard what happened.

Steve got beat up again and was in the hospital with a broken arm, a caved in cheek, stitches, staples and a possible eye injury. the attack was over $5.

we never make it our business to pry into the personal lives of the people we meet at the park. i don't know who buys, sells, uses, pimps, hooks or whatever. i don't care. a changed heart precedes changes in lifestyle.
   
Amber, Anna, Danny and the rest of us who have sat on Steve and Dena's blanket for afternoon conversations are disheartened and saddened by the violence, but we recognize it's part of street life. if we knew his last name we could visit him at the hospital. we worry about Dena. Steve keeps her sane and happy. they are our friends. we hope and pray that at some point they choose to walk toward truth and light...

Tranquility... Steve and Dena spend their days next to a Japanese garden. it is fenced off and costs $5 to get in so today Danny, Anna and i bought them tickets and spent a few hours there. it is a beautiful place. there are pathways, bridges, waterfalls, streams and lots of giant goldfish in the 5 acre pond. in a word the garden is tranquil. i told Steve that he has been living on the wrong side of the fence. he replied that it's the story of his life. in so many ways the fence is symbolic. the homeless can see through the metal rails but they can't enter. something as simple as $5 can give someone hope, allow them to dream, to rest, to imagine... one of the women who worked there had a large diamond ring. i assumed the Mercedes in the lot was hers. she let Steve push his shopping cart into the park and leave it by the front gate. two worlds collided and no one got hurt. it was a perfect afternoon.

it's going to be cold tonight. i'm about to crawl into my warm bed. my homeless friends are sleeping on dirt, concrete or black top, with nothing to separate them from the chilly ground except for a single blanket. an extra bonus is the fact that they have to worry about getting attacked, arrested or having their stuff stolen while they sleep. when they wake up they will be covered with dew.
   
Staples...one of the homeless men who eats at the church where my son Kevin works was beaten so badly that they had to staple his skin back together. stitches would not close the wound. another one of the men who goes there ended up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning. he nearly died. very few people realize the harshness and violence that is so common in the homeless community.