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.
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…
its been a stressful week. our funds are severely skinny and tensions are a wee high. we balance with humor and are creating the vernon rust reality.
I host the zaniness on my flickr site.
thegraffithunter.
You will find a mad case of photography and art. It’s all my own.
Just in case you’re reading about us for the first time, I’ll give you a quickie low-down: Vernon and I ran off together last year, fell kinda sorta GOOFY (tsk, tsk) in love, lost everything, gained a whole lot more and strive to bring the best out in everyone….
Oh, and we lived on the streets last summer. To be honest, this summer isn’t looking too grand either, but then as our dear friend Squeaky said last night, ‘why would I worry, God’s got my back’…
With Vernon, I believe that…
here’s a wonderful moment in time when Vernon Rust performed downtown nashville and another cool friend wandered up on us…
‘By joining ASCAP you can begin to register your songs, collect performance royalties….’
‘That’s funny, Vern, ‘Didn’t they tell you that YOU needed to get a performance set list from Keith’s people’.
‘Why, yes…’
‘But Vernon, they state categorically in their rules, regulations and governing documents that they collect performance royalties for the writer’.
I quote from their website:
“For live concerts, ASCAP uses set lists provided to us by concert promoters, the performing artists and our own members.”
Hmmmmm…
‘Well..honey (he doesn’t really call me that, it just sounded good…I haven’t received anything in the thirteen or so years that Keith has been performing those songs in concert’.
And let me tell you, the evidence is out there.
Log on to you tube.
It’s all there, beautifully documented by the fans cameras’, iPhones’, etc.
The artist is there on stage singing your song and it’s quite possible there’s a kid from the audience on stage, too. Sweet…
That’s a lot of foot work for a person to do.
That’s a tedious task for any individual.
Do you have any idea how many people, emails, phone calls it takes to get that information…for one concert year, let alone years of performances?
But what really bites, and bites really hard is being told by the organization that you are a member of that its your job to do.
EXCUSE ME for being a member!
Unhappily, but sorely in need of these severely back dated funds we contact Keith Urban’s folk.
‘That comes from ASCAP, Vernon. We don’t give out set lists.’
Next follows a barrage of expletives which I choose not to repeat, but as you can imagine and will understand this is extremely frustrating!
I wonder how many writers have missed out on their ‘God given right to their royalties from performances over the years.
It was probably too much trouble getting the concert set list themselves.
Perhaps, even a little bit of ‘well, maybe its just not worth my trouble, it’s too small’.
No earnings are too small and its organizations like ASCAP that bank on, and I mean BANK on the little (but with HUGE talents) guys not going to the trouble and just letting it slide. That’s a very large annual revenue for ASCAP, let alone the interest.
So we go back to ASCAP…but hang on they’re out of the office ’til Tuesday.
“ASCAP receives payment for public performances of songs and compositions by negotiating license fees with the users of music (radio, TV, cable, bars, clubs, restaurants, shopping malls, concert halls and promoters, web sites, airlines, orchestras, etc.) and distributing these monies to members whose works were performed.”
“There are billions of performances licensed by ASCAP each year. ASCAP is committed to paying our members for these performances fairly, accurately and efficiently. ASCAP collects and distributes more money in performance royalty income than any other organization and our payment system is by far the fairest and most objective in the U.S.”
Not so…
check this out, a hugely funny and timely interview with Vernon Rust that we recorded a while ago…
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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