04/25/2018
Tuesday is my favorite day of the week.
Camille's Breakfast at 8:00, The Network 10-2.
AND Writing Through Hard Times Workshop at Denver Public Library.
This piece of writing is especially for Jeffrey Dorris, aka Zakk, Cameron James Killswarrior, Rasheed Craig, aka DJ Woogie Nugget Fresh, Violet Hive.
Today I wrote to the prompt: "A Curse That Turned Out To Be A Blessing."
October 4, 2015, the day I left my rented condo for the street.
I had received a Section 8 Voucher which never came to fruition.
I moved what I could into storage, handed over the condo keys to my sister (she had been my landlord), stepped out the front door to the streets of Denver. I'd no idea what would happen next, no concern for my future. Not really. Life so far was rich, full, ripe with opportunity.
My man gave me a spot to sleep, on the bed in his room. He gave me full use of the closet. We were comfortable together, cozy. We snugglepussed, held close, told jokes, shared secrets, kissed hard and long. TV, dinner, visiting friends, even relatives. Sublime.
I couldn't always stay with him. Some nights I'd be outside tramping. I'd see treasures by dumpsters, on benches, especially clothing left by others lucky and generous enough to enjoy the luxury of discarding beautiful possessions to the less fortunate.
I began collecting, hauling beautiful clothing around in bags, no place to store my finds. Sometimes I hid things behind houses, under porches, hoping they'd remain undiscovered, undisturbed, until I could find a place for them to reside.
I found, surprise (!) that I am a small woman, petite even - size 0 fits me fine. I found my prizes were high quality, worth lugging.
I felt deep gratitude and satisfaction for my finds, for their suitability to my life.
When I needed warmth, I would find a jacket. Worn shoes? Easily replaced with a new pair, within reach at a bus stop.
A formal occasion? Oh my, look at this sparkly strappy dress.
I never ran short of wardrobe resources. Sometimes a gift would be given me, a discard fly into my hands. I found a Ralph Lauren military jacket beside a building late at night, Calvin Klein trousers on a bus bench, a Nordic sweater carefully hung from a post.
After I found a place to stay, I continued to treasure hunt, continued frequenting clothing rooms, where drawers containing socks and lingerie slid open to reveal everythinig I would need.
As I tramped, I concocted my idea, my motivation for continued groundscoring. A FashionShow! A Fashion Show featuring clothing obtained through ground discovery and visiting clothing rooms. A Fashion Show featuring models who'd experienced the Homeless Life, The Vagabond Culture.
So I stand in front of you today, well-dressed, inspired, inventing new ways to share my good fortune. My project, in germination since October 2015: The Urban Nomad Fashion Show, set for September 2018.
We are gonna ROCK THIS HOUSE.
And spread the wealth. Models will take away the outfits they wear down the runway. We will navigate.
We will PREVAIL.
