informarl discussions issue 3
TRANSCRIPT
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Informal
DiscussionsArt&Culture
Issue 3
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Content:
Thooughts by Joshua Perkins
Phototgraphy from Sean HammerInterview with Robert Hart
Ecology by Eve Higgins
Poetry by Nick Kelly
Painting by Alex Maro
Art is like a snap shot of an artists mind, thoughtsand ideas. Different media have different exposure
times. A poem can capture an instant feeling. Mu-
sic the evolving state and a painting an overall pan-
orama. These feelings ideas and thoughts change
with time but through the creation of art they
solidify and can be reviewed revisited and reinter-
preted. They can show evolution and developmentover a period of time. It takes courage strength
and determination to express things and to expose
them to the world allowing people to become a part
of the inner workings. It also takes courage and
determination from the viewer. Allowing oneself to
see the sometimes unattering internal mechanisms
of another. To allow yourself to be moved by thesethings, to try to understand them and to allow your
body and mind to respond to them without hinder-
ing the response.
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Dedicated to my brother Anthony who has madeprinting these dreams possible. My mother and
father who support them.
If even for a moment I can share this experi-
ence with you I will be satised for the next.
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Really?
Here we are sitting, thinking, wondering. Living?
At least in a way, in one reality. Are there more than one?
Of course not, so are we living?
Let me think about it.Perplexities unraveled.
Really? By whom?
Well thats hard to say. Who ravels them in the rst place?
Well the unraveler of course. Something to do I guess.
To feel important, worthwhile for a time.
The mystery unfolds. So the mystery is folded, layered?
Sure, like a cake.Wouldnt you rather just eat some delicious cake?
Oh self-infatuation you make me smile. Scary huh?
Levity though; as serious as one needs to be in order to properly
function.
Class clown, well thats silly.
Thats the point.
But at least in our contrast you appear responsibly good.
Who?
The whole heatedly human; evolved and taunt. Like a gig line or a
sail, and of they go.
I remain, the one who originally set forth the comparison.
All invented: my own creation. Sure of myself; yet doubtful of
others.
The judge of them all; condemning only myself.
Setting my own standards when really they only require being
contrary to yours.
So no matter what they are I may feel righteous about them.
I would say that though the starting point is less than virtuous at
least I search, but this is not an appealing justication even to me.
From they to us; them to we.
Humility marked by embarrassment for the errors of my ways.
By: Joshua Perkins
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Sean Hammer
Sean Hammer
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Sean Hammer
I met Robert Hart at Open Door. Its a soup kitchen in Prescott, Arizona. Its a
fairly decent place for the homeless underclass to get what is a really nice meal,
some common goods, and hang out for a bit, even stay on cold nights. Robert is
an amicable guy and most days approachable and easy to get along with. After
getting to know him and talking to others who knew him better, I decided to get
his story. Robert is my rst interview ever. After he started talking, probably a
half hour into the interview, I checked the recording and realized it hadnt been
working. Ill try to recapture some of what
I lost.
Robert was born and raised in New Jersey. Not much was said about
childhood and high school, and I never
got a good feel for what his relationship with his family was like. His parents are
still living and he has two brothers; but beyond that, I know nothing. They are
no doubt estranged, but to what extent and what might have happened is up to
your imagination and probably falls in line with what happens in many families
around the United States. Robert smoked weed and drank but eventually devel-
oped what must have been a fairly substantial meth habit. Runningaround Jersey tweaked and dealing meth in strip joints, Robert got the attention
of parts of the mob in the same line of work as Robert. They ended
up running him out of town but not before he had married one of their daughters,
who was supporting herself through prostitution. Coming from a mob family,
I would imagine she wasnt a street walker; but a hooker is a hooker no matter
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what you pay. At this point Robert packed his bags and got out of town. Leav-
ing every one and everything, Robert drove from Jersey to Flagstaff straight
through. Still spun from his last days on the East Coast, he made the trip nonstop
and didnt rest until he made it to Arizona. After sleeping for some eighteen
hours he nished his trip in Phoenix where he met up with his brother, who he
had arranged to stay with for some time. Eventually his brother walked out onhim leaving him stuck with the rent and bills, which I would imagine Robert had
no sense of responsibility towards. This is where the recording picks up:
Robert: Well, Im giving you some information there you really dont need to
know too much about that, do you? Whatever you forget is ne by me.
Alex: Wont bother you for it not to be in there?
R: No. No. Thats all right. Whatever, you know, however this works out for you
is ne. I try to keep it going. I dont care too much. So anyhow, here I am in AZ.
A: You got here in the mid 80s, right?R: Yeah, 85, February 85 is when I landed here. Well, I drove here and, um,
was working as a construction worker -- hooked up with another carpenter. He
was just kind of a helper and became kinda my sidekick, all muscle, no brains
type, you know. I played the other end of the eld. Id use my brain and let
somebody else do the work. It was cool. We had a
really cool deal. He and his buddy had come from Champaign-Urbana. Thats
how I know where that is. But, yeah, back in the same time, the mid 80s or
85, the three of us got a -- well, rented a house together. Then I met the motherof my children and that was party time, you know. I met her at a bar. She was
tweaking. I wasnt but...
A: So did you use at all after you got out here?
R: A little bit. But I found that Well, back in New Jersey, I was -- once a week
I would go right to the lab and purchase 2.5 ounces. It was just one rock like this
(indicates size). I mean one big solid chunk fresh out of the oven still warm.
Just something about the junk here Well, I -- pretty quick I found that drugs
were not for me. So I replaced it with alcohol, a case of beer a day, two and a
half packs of cigarettes a day. And when I nally got delivered from it, thats
where I was at. What a mess. But anyhow, I wound up liking this woman and we
got married, had two sons, lived over in Prescott
Valley. Theyre in their 20s. I see their mother occasionally. I walk up and down
the highway to my camping spot. And when she sees me, she pulls over, gives
me a ride ... (Long pause). Anyhow, I see her occasionally. But as far as my
sons, well, theyre grown men now. And, you know, everybody just kind of goes
their own direction, I guess. Of course you grow up and ... (Long pause).
A: What happened with your wife?R: As quick as it started, it ended. And that was another change in my life. Okay.
It was back in the end of 98. We were going through a really messy, almost
bloody -- yeah, okay, you could say bloody cause, you know, there was some
blood -- a bloody divorce. And by mid 99 we were ofcially divorced and that
was something. God got a hold of me in a very profound way and made me
realize all I was doing was making a mess of my life. No matter what I did, it it
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didnt amount to anything or at least nothing productive. And thats when I hit
the streets. I went from mobile home, to travel trailer, to tent, to someones spare
bedroom or garage oor, storm drain, newspaper recycle box, just whatever I
could nd to get out of the weather for a bit. And that was here in Prescott.
A: How long did you live in Phoenix?
R: I lived in Phoenix for 12 years. Met my wife. We had our two sons. Wepurchased property in Paige. That was 97 when we purchased property there.
By the end of 98 we had put up a big doublewide manufactured house, built a
big workshop, woodworking shed. I had my own business woodworking and
metalworking, had off-road vehicles, farm tractors. I lived out in wilderness
area, out on dirt roads, tractors to grade the road, and do property work up there.
Cause I did all the utilities on the property myself, a well and septic and stuff
like that. Anyhow, we were living over in Paige, had all the materialistic things,
went hunting, had guns, and archery equipment, and, you know, having fun, liv-ing the dream so to speak. Then, you know, one day she said I dont want to be
married anymore. And I said, Oh, yeah. Thats ne, and then unfortunately it
turned messy. And then February 01, I moved over here to Prescott Valley. And
then within several months, she sold in Paige and bought property in Prescott
Valley. We all moved in the same direction. Once I got here, I kinda felt the need
or the sense to do something other than go out and eat and sleep and shower.
You know, I wanted to do something and I stayed right down the street from the
Yavapai Food Bank. I went for a walk one morning. The day after I got into ahouse -- a guy had rented me a room. I went for a walk around the neighborhood
and right there was the food bank. A little voice said to me get involved there
and I went over to introduce myself, said this is who I am, this is what I got.
Other than a little short bed pickup, they had nothing for equipment. I had a full-
sized truck and a 10-foot trailer. It would accommodate a couple pallet loads of
food. So I got involved there for some months. That came to an abrupt end, you
know, politics and difference of opinions. They were set in their ways and I got
something else going so I bowed out from there. I got involved with a few other
food banks and ministries and outreaches. Then I started coming to Prescott.
Eventually it got the point of being homeless and vehicle less. It wasnt going
to be the last time. After I started coming to town, one thing led to another and I
moved into Prescott. Ive gone through vehicles and stuff here. Over the years,
had jobs and places to live, most of the time just in a vehicle or something like
that. And here I am. Back in the end of 08 I left here in a vehicle, drove to New
Jersey, and spent eight to ten months there visiting parents and family for some
months. Everything had changed. Nobody knew me. I didnt know anybody
around town anymore and stuff, which was ne, you know. My family neverchanged. You heard the saying you can never go back. So I hung out there for a
few months.
A: Where they happy to see you or were you kind of distant?
R: Well, depends on what you mean by distant. See, my family is so bizarre, you
could say. Several years ago just prior to Mothers Day, I called up my mother
to wish her happy Mothers Day. I told her, Oh, by the way, Im planning on
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coming back to New Jersey. If you would, gather up everybodys phone number
and address so I can contact everyone. We got talking about my great aunt and
she says Oh, by the way, she died last year. What! She says, I gured youd
eventually call and Id tell you then.
I was livid. I didnt know how to handle that. She and my grandmother, those
two were the surviving monarchs of the family, the boss basically. She was thelast of the generation. She lived in the house right behind mine on the farm. It
wasnt that I was close, but not far. She was family and I could go back and sit
and talk with her, talk about nothing, which was ne because I was on a visit.
I was so upset that my parents didnt have the courtesy to call and let me know
she died so I had to get off the phone. I go, Ma, I cant even talk to you any-
more. I hung up. I waited a week then called back and said Do me a favor. Do
not send me anything, no birthday presents, cards, Christmas cards, money, care
packages, or anything else. And write me out of your will. I dont want anythingto do with you, Dont want anything from you. Just at out told them, you
know. I said something somewhat sarcastic. I said -- You know, my great aunt,
she died in a nursing home. In other words, they stuck her in a nursing home
and then she died. I said something snide. I hope you are more gracious in he
way you died. So years later I go back to New Jersey. Never even mentioned
it once, not the letter, nothing. Im sure Im probably still in their wills and my
parents still give me money. But they are very money oriented. They despise
-- they loathe my lifestyle that Im homeless or living on the streets or whateverIm doing. Its just that Im not trying to live a 9:00 to 5:00 life like my brothers.
Although they arent doing maybe he best at it. But the fact is they are doing
what my parents would expect their children to do. Ive got two brothers and
theyre just doing their thing back in New Jersey. So anyhow, I sent them a let-
ter. As far as sending the letter, my fathers next phone call, you know, it doesnt
happen ever. He called me maybe three times in the last 25 years. Thats just the
way he is. So anyhow, he called me and he said Robert, he says, your mother
and I were talking. And, you know, as far as you coming back to New Jersey,
we dont want you here. Theres nothing here for you. We dont want you to
stay here. There is just nothing here for you. I go -- I dont know what I said,
something like I gotta go. Goodbye. I hung up and then I wrote the letter. And
I hadnt talked to them for three years or so. Then I showed up in New Jersey.
I drove back to New Jersey. And in my sweet time, I gured, well, Ill give
them a call. So (acts like hes talking into a phone), Hello. How are you? Im
in New Jersey. Mom goes, Really! So, well, do you mind if I come over?
She says, Oh, sure. So I went over to visit and my father said something lame
to me about money of course. He was arrogant about money situations, some-thing about my brother wanted to pay me to do something and my dad was mad
at me cause I didnt do it, you know, something like that. So I just jump in
my car and drove away. I went down to the other end of the state or whatever.
Then I got a call from him prior to -- just two days before Thanksgiving and he
said, Well, you know, if you want to, you can come stay with us. And I said,
Well, let me think about this. Ill let you know. Well, I showed up there on the
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day before Thanksgiving and it was okay that I showed up there. I said Dad, I
thought about what you said and Id kinda like to stay here. He said okay and
he said, For a couple months down in the basement. I found a spot down there
or whatever. So it came around o four months or so, I guess, he said I could
stay. It was about four months or so, um, and it comes to February, the middle
of February, a bad month for me. Im actually looking forward to tomorrowbecause, you know, its February and I left New Jersey in February in 1985, left
for Washington, D.C. in February. It just seems like February is a good month
to do something. Well, anyhow, I stayed there and it came around to February
15th or something like that. It was 8 degrees out, a blizzard, and I was standing
out on top of a wall building a house for my brother. I dont know whos a big-
ger bonehead, him for doing the job out there or me for going to work for him.
Well, anyhow, I fell off the wall, fell ten feet, landed on my back, and busted
a few ribs, dislocated my wrist, fractured my hand and my wrist in numerousplaces. Now Im really laid up in my parents basement and they let me stay
another couple months till April 1st. I moved out just set up a little hooch, you
know, a little tarp under some trees over in the cemetery. Nobody bothered me
over there. You know, it was kind of cool, awfully quiet. Kids dont want to go
through an old black cemetery you know, from the 1800s and stuff like that. I
dont think anybodys been buried there in the last thirty or forty years type of
thing, old run-down place on a one-way street. It was kinda appropriate. I moved
in there and, well, one thing led to another. I kinda messed around and I was ableto get the money to move to Washington, D.C. I really didnt know what I was
going to do.
A: Why Washington, D.C.?
R: Well, I was at the rescue mission in Atlantic City and I started asking around
cause I knew that was not where I wanted to stay. That was denitely not a
good homeless town unless youre a hustler or a gambler. I started asking around
and the guys were saying that Baltimore is dangerous, Philly is dangerous, but
a few of the guys had said individually that Washington, D.C. was a pretty good
place. And nally one guy -- Charlie or Jimmy or whatever his name was -- said
to me, he said, Robert, theres like four or ve, maybe six shelters in D.C. down
there. You know, youll be able to get on your feet. So I hopped the Greyhound
bus to Washington, D.C. And the powers that be -- well, Gods intervention
basically -- got me a van, an emergency shelter van to come pick me up and take
me to this emergency shelter. He dropped me off there. And I said, Well, what
do I do? He said, See the line of guys there? Just get in line. I got in line and
checked into the shelter. I stayed there for two and a half years. Well, once I
checked in, I was talking to the case worker. And I said to him -- I says, Well,this is all very new to me. As a matter of fact, the rst night I stayed or checked
in I said, I dont know whats going on here. I said, How long can I stay
here? He says, Well, if you dont cause any trouble and youre not involved in
any kind of drama or anything like this, you can stay here as long as you want.
Well, like I said, I stayed there for two years. And, you know, I seen a lot of guys
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come and go. Ive seen a lot of drama. Washington, D.C. is a very interesting
place. I learned about politics, national, international affairs, local affairs, which
-- you know, local affairs are almost the same as national because its Washing-
ton, D.C. Anything happens there. A lot of times it affects the entire country. I
got to see protesters and demonstrators come and go. It was interesting. United
Auto workers came through there one time. One day it was like 40- or 50,000of them showed up on the mall right out behind the White House and by the
Capitol. But to see all these people come into town and talk about a frivolous
mission, I guess, I got kind of callous towardsindividuals and their causes. Most
of this stuff doesnt amount to a hill of beans. It doesnt. You can try and try,
but I think the best an individual can do in this world is just kind of eek by a
living or, you know, survive and thats it. The Sierra Club and free lovers and
tree huggers and dirt worshippers and these protesters, it just doesnt amount to
anything. They all go there for a weekend and rally around at the Capitol, like Isaid, 40- to 50,000 of them and then what do they do Monday morning? Theyre
back to work again. Nothing changed. The racism and biased areawful. Black
people -- I nd that the biggest racists and the worst racists in this country are
the black people. Theyre still ghting the civil war. I mean, one guy, its just so
ingrained in him and hes not even African. Jamaican or something. He never
went through the whole slavery thing or racism so much and hed only been in
the country 10 or 20 years or something like that. The screen saver on his cell
phone is the Mason-Dixon Line. His name is Morris. And I says, Yeah. Okay.Thank you. He says, Robert, did you know the Mason-Dixon
Line is actually the border between Pennsylvania and Maryland? See? See?
And I saw that and thought that is just ridiculous. And, you know, here is
another guy talking, a sixty-year-old man not much older than I am. One night
at McDonalds, it was right around the corner, a jumping off point. Most of us
would go over there in the morning, dozens of us, get coffee and maybe a little
something to eat and take a bus in one direction or the other. Were talking with
some of the other guys and he says, I remember back when I was just a young
boy over in the projects in southeast D.C. -- the worst
neighborhood in the world. D.C. has the second highest crime and violence rate
in the country. First is Detroit. This is right behind it. Thats how bad it is. Its
awful. Even the black guys are scared to go into certain parts. Anyhow, we were
talking. Back when I was 10 or 11 years old, daddy took me out the front door.
Were standing there in the projects. He said, Son,
see all this here? This is the white mans fault. I mean awful. I went to an A.A.
meeting in a little church. Part of the deal was if you sit through the meeting
theyll serve you lunch so I went to check it out. One guys up there leading themeeting and he says it used to be that Georgetown, which is the northwest quad-
rant of D.C., was where all the slaves were taken to and held there. That was
kind of the slave camps and stuff like that. Then they would be taken down to
Foggy Bottom. Foggy Bottom would be due west of the Mall. The slaves would
be brought to Foggy Bottom to be auctioned off. Anyhow, hes talking about it.
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You know, its history, informational history, and he says, You know, it wound
up that the white man was so impressed with Georgetown -- I mean Georgetown
University. Georgetown is the place to be in Washington, D.C. Okay. Thats the
upper class. He says, Well, see, the white man decided they wanted George-
town for themselves so they shipped all of us black people across the bridge to
the southeast. At this point Im going (shaking head). Well, I was the only whiteguy in the room. Most of the time when I got on the bus thered 40 people on
the bus and Id be the only white person. It was kinda rough. But anyhow, hes
saying, Yeah. They shipped us across the bridge. You gotta cross the Anacostia
River to get to southeast D.C. Its really trashed. Thats the ghetto, used to be the
projects and stuff like that. He said, you know, Its the white mans fault. That
was a nice neighborhood and now its trashed. Im thinking no. Its because you
destroyed the place. It was ne when you moved in there. The only difference
between the southeast and northwest isthe proximity to downtown. He even said southeast used to be a lovely neigh-
borhood until the white man shipped
us over there. You know, it went right over his head. And of course the rest of
the room is going yeah, yeah, yeah. Ludicrous. These people are nuts. Theyre
delusional thinking its still the white mans fault. You know, they harp on
it. That was a big learning experience to see racism and racial bias. Where I
grew up in New Jersey, it was founded in 1686. I mean, more than 300 years
old. Right behind Main Street was another street. It didnt have curbs on it oranything like that, an old dirt road and a couple of alleyways that went back into
another neighborhood that was up against the swamp and train tracks.
To be continued..
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by Eve Higgins
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All I need is a temple
without a place.
a poem by Nick Kelly
A temple without a
place indeed.
A name to trace.
A path to walk with
a shaman having a
stimulating talk.
A name of a person
to trace, in a crowd of
people that longing
face.
Advice well taken
from a stranger.
A quest for desire, sat-
ised by the quenching
sound of my re.
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Alex Maro
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