Like the oud and other ancient stringed instruments, our particular favourite…the banjo has a life all its own. It’s magical! ” It cheerfully & forever lovingly plays the soundtrack of our time together. A ninth-century Baghdad jurist praised the healing powers of the oud (and like such instruments), and the 19th century writer Muhammad Shihab al-Din related that it “places the temperament in equilibrium” and “calms and revives hearts”. ref: Wikipedia.
And, I believe it!
I heard recently that Lincoln kept a banjo player on hand for those ‘you can always count on ‘em, low’s. Melancholia. Lincon’s Depression. His self-proclaimed ‘black dog’.
“I found it impossible to keep my feet still or to wipe the smile off of my face during this one.”
So…Come on friends. Join us and listen for a moment and enjoy our kind of music.
I have three words for you regarding pet owners, dogs in particular: ‘Best in Show’. And believe me, I mean that most affectionately. I seriously doubt there are many people out there that wouldn’t enjoy, that is get a downright hilarious kick out of the movie. whether you’re a dog lover or not. Growing up we always had a family dog, just the one. It was the ‘kids want a dog but we know we’ll wind up having to tend to them’ scenario with my parents. Of course, that’s more often than not the case, especially with school age and teen children. The last thing you want to do when you come home from school is walk the dog, vacuum up their shedding fur and fix a bowl of food…unless, like me you start sneakily smoking cigarettes when you’re 15 years old and then its a great opportunity to legitimately leave the house and take the dog out. Time to smoke a quickie and rush back to do homework. Was that wrong?
I vaguely remember our first dog, a corgi called Kim. He was pretty elderly and my Nana took care of him for the most part. As an old dog he found youngsters a bit of a pain and would nip at us periodically, just so we would leave him alone and that he could have some semblance of a quiet life.
A dog’s life…
He was always in the kitchen first thing in the morning when we were off to school. He was there waiting for us when we got off the bus and came home in the evening. And he settled down in the same spot every night at bedtime. Faithful. A constant companion. For my Nana he was someone to talk to when no one else was around, the house very still and quiet, even lonely during the day, with us at school and my parents at work. So then there comes the day when He’s not there anymore. He’s gone when we come home from school. No more happy face, anxiously waiting for us in the window. He had been taken to the vet and Dad left without Him. It’s every kid’s worse nightmare. For sure.
It wasn’t very long before we got another corgi from a very sweet family and kennel owners in Wales. They had taken in my mother during the Blitz when she was evacuated from London. My Mum, being the awesome correspondent stayed devoutly in touch with her temporary family and over the years we returned to Pembrokeshire, South West Wales for our family vacations.
The Pembrokeshire corgi is the preferred breed of Queen Elizabeth II and I believe she has about 16 corgis in her household. But that’s not why we made our second family dog one. Pembroke Welsh Corgis are very affectionate, love to be involved in the family, and tend to follow wherever their owners go. They are eager to please and since they only bark when necessary, they make for a very good watchdog.
On the left my sister Lesley, Brandy and I at our home in Newbury, Berkshire 1972
Awesome and necessary qualities for any dog.
For many years I was without a pet. I travelled a lot, worked long hours and felt it just wouldn’t be fair on the poor pookie.
So when all of a sudden I exclaimed to Vernon that I wanted (and had already spied an ad on craigslist) a small dog, there really was no discussion. He felt exactly the same. It was the first ad I saw, for a 4-year-old abandoned Maltipoo. Maltese dogs are the favoured breed of royalty and have been for centuries. Cuddly beyond belief, they are the quintessential lap dog. They have hair, not fur and never or molt. Beautiful! Poodles are the smartest of breeds and also have non shedding coats. They are fun, active dogs that are an absolute hoot to hang out with.
This hybrid breed was perfect for our gypsy artistic lifestyle! We met the lady from the animal rescue she handed the new member to our family straight to me, into my arms and up to my chest. We bonded immediately and over the past couple of months she has become an integral part of our life & family. I never thought I would hear either of us say things like ‘smootchie, woutchie…how about a little supper’. Cooing and ahhhhhing over her as if she’s a new-born baby.
But then there you go. She has become a daily tonic for me with a new name everyday…sugar pie, honeycakes, sweetie love. But mostly she answers to Poppy.
We see her as a huge spirit and that she probably rescued us…
Here it is…finally.
All beautifully edited, organized and ready for your viewing pleasure.
Vernon & I have been recording these mini videos for over a year now…they are funny, No! they are downright hilarious.
They were, still are our way of dealing with the hard times. They bring a lot of smiles to a lot of faces too.
We knew that once we were able to invest in a laptop, I could go to town putting them together. In the form of short films each documenting our lives together while facing the challenges of houselessness, severe economic downturn yet falling completely, madly and utterly in love with one another. We are inseparable. A creative force bouncing ideas back and forth between us all day long. Each wanting the other to be the best person they could possibly be.
Vernon showing out gloriously for me. Me, behind my omnipresent camera, ardently filming his every joke, his daily human encounters…his celebration of life by uniting people with humor. His uncanny knack of diffusing any situation with much laughter. Much laughter. His ability to tell a story, sing a song…to pull you, the listener completely in. Just as though you are right there.
I wanted to show the world this amazing talent, this man of sharp and clever wit…this awesome performer who brings such joy to all he meets, everyday.
I wanted to make Vernon Rust the movie star he deserved to be….
I had a bird’s-eye of the ;black friday frenzy; from an incredibly discreet and unique vantage point. I was cocooned safely from the madness. an island of sanity amid an ocean of shoppers.
Wal-Mart is and has been on many occasions our home for a night or two over the past year. they welcome travellers and truckers alike. responsible people. folks that pick up other people’s’ trash. eyeball the vicinity as a neighbor hood watch scout. you get kinda protective about your neighbor too. hope they’re warm ’cause there’s an extra blanket just in case. make more healthy wraps, they might be hungry…
we tried to feed a few people yesterday. there’s no mistakin’ the look. the look of embarassment…it was funny, we selected good-for-ya life-sustaining grub but by the time we rounded the corner they had gone. I believe someone helped them as one in three nearly always does. There’s a heck of a lot of good ‘out there’ and I call it that affectionately. To some of us it’s a very scary world and I applaud the ease at which you enjoy the fracas…the circus…the crazy colorful wheel of life.
well…back to my story. I sat quietly drawing when a raucous of voices, car doors and screeching brakes pulled me back to reality and the current surroundings. ‘what on earth???’ Vernon called sleepily from the all wooden sleep cabin ‘it’s black friday…’ ‘at 10 o’clock?’ no response except softly sawed logs…
I could not believe the insanity! cars lined up as far as the eye could see. big happy faces clutching coupons, ads and flyers. near accidents punctuating the night as spaces were fought over. I had never seen or experienced an energy like it…Romans racing for the best seats at the Coliseum.
a frantically excited couple showed us that they ‘had got two big flat screen tv’s’ and ‘they were all $700 a piece for $300 each, y’all’…they had lined up for five hours to score such a deal.
Wow, I thought ‘who said they were worth $700 in the first place?
Vernon titled this piece ‘song for Helen’. It’s beautiful. Probably the sweetest thing ever.
The road together has been long and difficult. Since the day when Vernon rescued me from a house of no return, with broken arm and a completely annihilated faith and so carefully & dutifully assumed ‘head of household’ of our newly formed family. Only thing, we had no house. We have slept under a bridge, by the side of a road, in a car…vulnerability became our way of life. often I slept for 4 hours while he guarded and then we switched over. Never in my wildest imagination did I think I would draw from my many experiences as a nurse working the night shift. Thinking back I have never really had a home. It wasn’t until I became homeless did I really consider let alone understand, the meaning or value of having a home. Many of the homeless that you meet ‘out there’ (the streets) say that homelessness is a state of mind and not just a situation. It’s very complex. Of course growing up, our family homes are ‘homes’. But it’s different. We are all so young and typically its an environment our parents pick out. I left the family ‘home’ when I was 18 years old and headed to the nearest city to start my nursing career. My first place was one room with single bed and wash stand. Nurses quarters. I can tell you right away, it was temporary! I felt very alone but at the same time excited about the path I had chosen. Next came a handful of shared flats & houses with other nurses. Sure, they were comfortable, clean, a place to rest & regroup for the next day. But they felt very much like stepping stones. Yes…stepping stones to get to another place.
My spirit became restless and the world called on me to travel, to expand my horizons. I accepted a travel nurse position in Orlando, Florida. That was where I met and married my ex-husband. It was a long, draw out and for the most part unhappy 15 years. Things at ‘home’ were so stressful that I threw myself in to my work. I don’t have much more to say except it was here that the river grew very wide and it seemed as though there weren’t anymore stepping stones.
Somehow I dug myself out of that hole and moved to San Francisco. It is a city that felt more like home than any place had up until then. But my apartment yet again was purely a place to set down, hang briefly, try to sleep and then get back to work. On my off days I spent as much time as possible away from ‘home’. I immersed myself in art & photography, roaming the City for hours on end doing both. I started to feel very lost. Disconnected. Even nursing became very alien to me. As a profession, it had always helped me to belong. Caring for others took my mind off my own worries and concerns. There was always someone so much more worse off than me. I convinced myself that I was strong, independent…in need of noone. I stayed too busy to sit down and actually reflect on what was happening. Too busy to remotely consider the absence of a home (or for that matter, a family) in my life. Maybe I felt like I didn’t deserve one. For whatever strange a reason as that, I will never know.
It took hitting a wall, falling of a cliff…completely breaking down and finally finding the next stone. It was a rock and it was at the bottom. Thats when I met Vernon. Thats when we discovered that we were so alike…that homelessness had been a life long struggle fraught with people that simply did not understand. Nor did they want to…
Clawing your way back to life, to some semblance of existence and to a state of contentment is so hard. So very very hard. But we were two now. Together the impossible started to be possible. No hope gave way to endless opportunites. To a creative flow of dreams and aspirations. I could not remember when I was so inspired!
It took literally losing everything to find a home. A place so warm and inviting and so full of love. A place to look forward to going to and missing a lot when away. A place to just be. Be with my family…be with me.
Not only do we have a home but its our dear studio too. It’s still a struggle. People continue to look down their noses. There’s a certain stigma to being poor, to having nothing but the shirt on your back. You’re viewed as lazy, as though life is easy. As though its OK to give up. I learn everyday from our friends on the street. They teach me a compassion that even nursing couldn’t. They teach me an understanding that can never be learned or studied. They teach me the true value of life, of a home, of acceptance. Of what’s really important and especially of what is not…
Vernon & I have turned our experience and newly found way of life in to a ministry. A ministry of helping and caring, encouraging and inspiring. A ministry that raises the awareness of homelessness, of poverty and the need to care.
Our lifestyle is so simple, our needs are very few. Any extra’s go back in to the community…food, clothing, advice, a ride, a bus ticket, a cup of coffee, a kind listening ear.
During this season of giving thanks, please donate to our cause.
Please. Please. Please.
We offer you original art for your generosity so please visit facebook.com/BirdXRust
>>>God Bless you <<<
Over the last few months, perhaps even a year, I have encouraged Vernon to draw.
To paint. To doodle.
I basically wanted to see him express himself and with a very challenging yet fun and exciting medium. Like myself he had not been to art class since childhood. Ultimately, I wanted him to love to do what I love to do…
And frankly, I am downright thrilled with what has transpired.
Vivid colors leap to meet your eyes. Fantastic mini space scenes fill the corners. Surprisingly bold abstract ideas emerge. His zest for such a new-found soul seeking past time is wonderful and we are able to while away our time drawing and inking together.
We proudly show each other pieces being worked.
vernon rust
Designs paused briefly at a variety of developmental phases. It is an infectious time spent delving in our minds. Imagining places we have been. Places we are going. Realizing our feelings. Exploring and expressing them through art. Vernon tells me of his amazement at how well he can draw. Like many people, he thought that he couldn’t. I never understood why so many of the things we loved to do as kids fall quickly by the wayside when we ’grow up.’ It’s a shame. I try to inspire all I meet. The young and the elderly. ’Its easy.’ I say, ‘ just sit down with some blank paper and empty your thoughts out on to the page.’ People often tell me they can’t draw. But their curiosity is teased. It’s obvious they want to try! ‘Why not play around with your stick figures, turn ‘em in to cartoons. Work them out.’ ‘Whatever you do just make sure that you give it a go.’ It’s not as though you’re gonna get a bad grade for your efforts.’ Everyone can draw. And there are no boundaries with art. Let it flow and you’ll see it start to pour. Gush from your insides. You’ll start to really see the colours. The angles. The possibilities…
Furies Magazine: What is it about art that gets you fired up?
Helen Bird: Other artist! Graffiti always inspires me. It's glorious outlaw feeling and style. The color that bursts off abandoned buildings. The time and talent taken. I love to spot thoughtfully and comically placed stencils and stickers around the city.
with gladiatorial glee
I had a bird’s-eye of the ;black friday frenzy; from an incredibly discreet and unique vantage point. I was cocooned safely from the madness. an island of sanity amid an ocean of shoppers.
Wal-Mart is and has been on many occasions our home for a night or two over the past year. they welcome travellers and truckers alike. responsible people. folks that pick up other people’s’ trash. eyeball the vicinity as a neighbor hood watch scout. you get kinda protective about your neighbor too. hope they’re warm ’cause there’s an extra blanket just in case. make more healthy wraps, they might be hungry…
we tried to feed a few people yesterday. there’s no mistakin’ the look. the look of embarassment…it was funny, we selected good-for-ya life-sustaining grub but by the time we rounded the corner they had gone. I believe someone helped them as one in three nearly always does. There’s a heck of a lot of good ‘out there’ and I call it that affectionately. To some of us it’s a very scary world and I applaud the ease at which you enjoy the fracas…the circus…the crazy colorful wheel of life.
well…back to my story. I sat quietly drawing when a raucous of voices, car doors and screeching brakes pulled me back to reality and the current surroundings. ‘what on earth???’ Vernon called sleepily from the all wooden sleep cabin ‘it’s black friday…’ ‘at 10 o’clock?’ no response except softly sawed logs…
I could not believe the insanity! cars lined up as far as the eye could see. big happy faces clutching coupons, ads and flyers. near accidents punctuating the night as spaces were fought over. I had never seen or experienced an energy like it…Romans racing for the best seats at the Coliseum.
a frantically excited couple showed us that they ‘had got two big flat screen tv’s’ and ‘they were all $700 a piece for $300 each, y’all’…they had lined up for five hours to score such a deal.
Wow, I thought ‘who said they were worth $700 in the first place?
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