Wednesday, June 25, 2008

a few days of living on the streets of Portland, in a house bike....

Opening doors
The world took a grateful shift when last night, I went to Col.Sumner Park (last Sunday).
I rocked the house bike in the shade of a tree and watched this dood go through a mess of circus tricks.
I sat there for a couple of hours, teaching myself, learning how to sit and do nothing, not easy.
It has never been easy for me to sit still and when I learned that I could use that for creating stuff, I was on.
After a bit I went into the hood and came back out on a tall bike I had stashed nearby.
I bought two hot dogs and gave him choice of onions and mustard or ketchup and olives.
We ate and talked and quickly came up with an act.
A few kids came up to us that were playing "Bigger or Better" they traded a bannanna for Dan the juggler and Dingo the clown, we were paraded around and it was a fun distraction.
Food not bombs was feeding nearby so we decided that we would have a captive audience to try this new act on.
He had a slew of tricks and we practiced with me doing music and barking, people started to look and clap.
Hell we havnt even started yet and people were digging us, it was the boogie, my man can dance.
We went to the feeding, a car drove up, it had a decal across the front PARK RANGER.
Two officers came out, they made a bee line to your's truely.
"Zis thing got a motor of any kind?" pointing at my house.
I told her all about it, we made friends then she asked "Are you one of the Food Not Bombs Leaders?
I accidently said no but nodded yes, she said, "great well will you have your people clean up better, last time you left the place trashed".
I wasn't there last week or a part of whats going on other than showing up to entertain and spred good will.
I still apologised for the whole and told her I would make sure the place was clean after folks left...and I did.
A woman overheard me saying it was time to get a bite to eat, it was all gone by the time our set was over.
I would tell you more about the act but it's a live thing, it messes it up to put it to words.
She brought me to her place several blocks away, she was a stripper named Cherry Blosom, she was tired.
She had been living the fast life for some time, she seemed quite young but her eyes have seen some things.
"I came here from a very conservative community, this place changed my life."
We hung out and I ate, she was cutting nude photos out of a stack of dumpstered Playboys, not bad, some Penthouse, the pages wern't wavy or smelly like the jack mags of my youth.
She wanted to be in the circus, she wanted to know about the numbers, what works for the best payout and if it may be more lucritive to do clown stripping.
I had just been thinking about Will Workforf Ood, then out of the blue he called, on his way to a Solstice ride, he dropped in and took photos while our hostess, stuck matches to her nipples and attempted to light them with pure titty power.
I have some photos, they don't quite tell the story.
It was getting dark, we all split ways and i went looking for coffee and a place to write and draw.
My search went longer than I thought possible, it was amazing, everyone had booze no coffee.
A young man walked up on me as I stopped at a light.
He was sporting a suitcase of beer, "Dingo the Clown gets a beer YEAAAAAH!"
He couldn't hear me say I don't drink and in seconds I was the proud new owner of a 12 oz. Natural Ice.
I threw it in my house knowing it would be a good bribe to some unlucky stiff.
I drifted up streets to Hawthorne and 5?nd to a house that I had been to before, some of it's denizens had been to my open mic.
I connected with a couple who were in the parking lot and then after plugging in my lap top and phone,had mac n cheese with a sweet, charming lady who took my breath away.
I slept well and dremt nice dreams.

Woke up and ignored my morning ritual just to be an anarchist, well I did pee.
I moved my house to another cafe a few clicks away.
I moved areound a lot, I roamed until I found a spot to play my guitar and make some dough.
Then to Muddy Waters where we discussed a new pay structure for me, see summer is slower and now I get a precentage.
That sucks for the summer but rocks when the weather starts to get cold again.
I'll have to find some new industries to get into, all my normal shills are drying up.
I'm thinking of hussling enough green to buy a bad ass snow shovel and huge Hiway department style broom and do some badass sweeping jobs for folks.
That stuff could velcro to the side of my house easy.
I washed my house with some good old soap and water, it looks innocent and shiney.
If my place looks sharp, nobody will want to give me grief, they just ask a lot of questions.
A house builder gave me the stink eye and at least 15 people, thought I was cool and encouraged me, one fella gave me two bucks.
I didn't need his money but I also didn't want him to lose his sense of giving to a community, so I put it into the first tip jar I ran into.
You really get to know about yourself when you carry your water and pee in jugs, you know day to day how much is in and how much is out.
I may need a monkey to help me out around the house.
Hanging out around "The Triple Nickle" on Belmont I ran into some folks who were getting ready for a rager (party) they knew who I was and invited me to stay and entertain at the shindig.
I called as many people as I could but couldn't come up with any good circus workers at such short notice.
I wanted Will Workforf Ood or my man Dan.
My tit lighting friend showed up but she was in hussling mode and decided to try her luck downtown, she quickly went through the crowd sizing everyone up, what a woman...a scarry woman.
We played a lot of music for the folks and I got treated really nice.
I found on the street:
Bag of weed, full pack of ciggs (I don't smoke but I do bribe) bunch of beer and a back pack full of other great trade goods.
I made over $100 in tips busking and trading with the drunks, I'm in my element, I really did well.
It was too drunk in the party to plug in my lap top for recharging so it ran out as I sat in my house playing Wesnoth.
I took a lot of breaks to my house to recharge my personality, too bad that didn't recharge my lap top.
Today I have to go down to the Guardino Gallery to take down my Cycleseen art, boy that photo exposition was really expensive, time consuming, and pointless to me.
It suould have said clearly across the top "This is for people with lots of free time and money" I would have avoided it.
I wish it hadn't sucked my ass so hard but still I'm glad to be able to say my stuff has been in a big time gallery.
I have to leave my home parked on the road alone for hours just to bus across town to pick up the last photo, I'm thinking it may be worth it to abandon it all and call it $175 down the drain, I can't carry all that stuff with me.
Best part of last night:
playing music, dancing barefoot, and holding hands with Hazle Monster, I'm getting kind of sweet on her, not all crazy, snotty faced sweet on her, just enough to feel good.

Floated to Walgreens to dump my photos, turns out I just needed to clear off a bunch of photos that were taking up space.
I found myself looking for a parking spot, went to Division and thought I would see how friendly the Stumptown coffee shop.
I walked in with a big smile and waving...
There was a dude at the counter he was writing something, he looked up "We're closed".

"I know, I can tell by the chairs on all the tables, I was just wondering if there would be a problem with me parking over on the corner"?
He looked at me kind of pissy, like I was asking for money, " can't block any doors or anything out there."
He didn't really answer my question, he went back to writing and I decided I didn't want to be around that spot.
Some places are great, some ok and some, like Stumptown, always such stuck up bungholes, it's just Coffee!
I went to Hawthorne and found a nice spot near some boxes and a pay phone.
My pad looked like an album cover for a crazy Las Vegas cover band, it was too cool, I had to make myself relax and enjoy the paradise of doing nothing on a fine day.
I watched the Sunday night life for hours, all kinds of life happens when you sit in one spot, most folks are only in any on spot for a moment.
A marimba band was playing down the street, a bunch of them went into a bus stop to practice, I bet it was a couple of hours until they were "ON" and they were making sure to be sharp.
Many times in my life I have went to a bus stop near a venue to practice.
The buss came and went and the driver had a look like, "Of course theres a marimba band playing in a bus stop, it's Portland."

There were no grocery stores around, that sucked, I craved raw fruits and viggies, instead I had Zach's Hot dogs (the Chicago) and some soup with way too many mushrooms.
I felt like Templeton the rat after eating too much junk food. Sitting on Hawthorne, I really had a nice time.
A woman was getting her bike unlocked near my house, to the world I'm just a big silver box, I opened a door and scared the shit out of her.
"Sureal huh?"
"What the Fuck?"
"I said surreal to see a marimba band playing at a bus stop."
"And sureal to see a man pop out of a box on Hawthorne street, thats why I love Portland."
I made a friend, I made a few that night.
It's now several days later, I wish I could blog in real time.
Like what we do? Donation bucket!

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