Drawing at the Shelter

On Thursdays, I usually go downtown to Durham's Community Shelter for H.O.P.E. for about three hours to draw and interview homeless people. When I arrive, there are a number of residents who approach me in the parking lot, asking to have their picture drawn. If I can remember who I promised to draw the last time, and if that person is there, I will draw them. If not, I will draw whoever gets to me first.

When we go into the shelter, I usually set up my equipment in the same place each time. If I go into the women's side, we have a small room to ourselves. On the men's side, we use a corner of a very large room which is used for most of the activities that go on in that part of the shelter; it is not as private or quiet as the women's side, but at least it is a safe environment.

It's really important to me to have a safe, quiet environment to do the drawing and the interviewing in. [That's the reason I have not drawn anyone on the streets -- only in shelters] That way I can devote all of my psychic or personal energy into what I am doing and not think about my own personal safety. Although I may draw and/or interview only one or two people (sometimes I also finish up another portrait from a a previous visit) in that three hour span, the concentration it requires of me is tremendous -- and I go home totally exhausted, and often wishing I had been sharper in the questions I had asked.

At the end of our interview/posing session, I pay the resident $5 for each service. I also promise that I will bring back a print of his/hers finished portrait (I keep the original) within the next few weeks.

*

Some people are genuinely surprised to be paid. (I make a point of not mentioning the money aspect to people until the very end, because I want them to either want to be in the project, or at least to do it because they would like to have a drawing of themselves.) But not all that long ago, I was informed by one of the homeless people that everybody does it for the money -- except for him. He does it because he wants to; he respects me and the project. I personally do not like to admit that he is right, but maybe he is. Maybe I'm being naive. But who is to say how many of them he is right about?

Serious Portraits

Most of the drawings that I did on this project, especially the ones I did of men, were received in a similar way. The person would look at the drawing intently for just a few seconds and then exclaim, "That's me! That's me!" The loudness of the "that's me" varied from individual to individual, depending on their own personal styles.

Sometimes I would apologize for the seriousness of a drawing. The apology would almost always be met with a denial, something like -- "I like it. That is the way I feel sometimes, especially since I've been here."

One time I brought a drawing back to the shelter to be worked on more because I thought the drawing was too "heavy". It was of a women who seemed to radiate energy. There was sadness in her life, but she still had this air of vitality about her. I wanted to capture that quality. As I was working on her drawing for the second time, she brought me up to date with her own personal day to day struggles. Along with the usual smiles and laughter, this time there were tears as well. She told me she had just found out that her family was in the process of trying to take legal custody of her children (she was a crack addict with varying degrees of success in giving it up). She talked about the anger, the hurt, and the fears she was feeling over not only her family doing that to her, but over the possibility of losing her children. I felt her pain, (the pain I knew I would feel if someone took my children from me) as I drew her, but I kept those feelings at bay; I was out to capture that "lightness" about her.

When I got the picture home, I realized I had failed utterly and the picture was more depressing than it had ever been. In fact, I still have a hard time looking at it.

Drawing Children, the First Day

I have just finished trying to draw several toddlers at Genesis Home, a transitional home for homeless families. It was a wonderful, joyous experience and a nerve wrecking one as well.

I had put off doing this kind of thing for many years -- I dread the thought of drawing children. How could I ever draw fast enough for such moving targets? And why do it if every kid would end up looking angry -- which is often the case since kids hate to sit still and their parents usually end up threatening them with awful things to keep them still, besides, I can't draw quick enough to catch a smile. So all and all, I was not very optimistic about it working. But I had promised a homeless advocacy group that I would include children in the T-shirt design I was doing for their organization, so here I was, about to embark upon yet another road I had never intended to travel.

*

I started out by introducing myself to a couple of mothers who were sitting out on the front porch talking. One woman had a toddler on her lap and quickly agreed to let me try to draw her baby. The child's name was Jasmine. The woman turned out to be a marvelous person for the job of occupying the baby so that I could draw it. Not only did she keep the toddler happy, but she also managed to keep the child looking in my direction, at least some of the time -- a very difficult task indeed. We both had our jobs cut out for us and I quickly managed to do a rough drawing that looked just like Jasmine.

Before I was even done with Jasmine, another toddler appeared on a lap in front of me. This little girl's name was Keisha. I tried to draw her as well, while Jasmine toddled off to the kitchen for some ice cream; but Keisha was tired and very difficult to distract.

When Jasmine returned, she was covered from head to toe with ice cream, which she then spread on the floor, her mother and dangerously close to me. I'll never forget the horror I felt as she came teetering, reaching . . . with those ice creamy hands! (I'm very protective of my drawings -- the paper is just too delicate at this stage.)

Well, under ice cream (which was quickly replaced by a tri colored popsicle) conditions, I managed to finish the drawing of Jasmine. It was truly a miracle! But I gave up on Keisha, she was impossible to keep happy -- I'd have to come back and draw her another day -- maybe when she is asleep. [Keisha is featured on the front cover of this envelope]

When I Do Reflections

Ideally when I work on "reflections" I sit down with my tape recorder the very same day that I did the interview and record my thoughts. If I do that, I can usually still remember what the issues are, what I want to address and what emotions I felt during our interview. But if I let even a day go by, I may still remember the issues, but often the gut feelings are gone. That is a problem because I need those feelings in order to write coherently. It's like my gut feelings become these precise goals in front of me and I must describe them accurately or else it doesn't work -- everything is lifeless and rambling.

Drawing is the same. But instead of focusing in on feelings, I focus in on the person in front of me, taking what I see and shaping it onto the paper with my hands and charcoal. At first it is all blurry, but as I work it and rework it, slowly life comes up out of the paper -- and I've captured that person. If I never do focus in deeply enough, both the portrait and the writing are flat and lifeless -- and I have captured nothing.

Coaching from Mothers

The same day I was suppose to interview the children, I had an informal chat with their mothers in the kitchen. I don't remember a lot about what was said, but I do remember feeling an under current of anxiety on the mothers' part concerning what I was going to put their children through.

They didn't want me to use the word "homeless". I think I was coached to say: "Now that you don't have your own house" or something like that.

And looking back, it seemed that their anxiety was not only for their children being in this project, but it was also about their concern for how their children perceived their present plight and how they themselves wanted the world to perceive them. All in all, I don't think they like this word "homeless."