here.
jer johns 1
here. : The Journey to Passion
Hello, I’m Jer. On July 1, 2012; I gave up almost all of my physical possessions with the exception of a cell phone without service, a laptop, a backpack, and a few changes of clothes. I gave up the rest of my money and my room in Brooklyn, took my remaining belongings, and journeyed out onto the streets of New York for a nearly year long experience that would change my life forever. The original idea came about because I wanted to have a new experience, find myself and my passions, and hopefully inspire others to do the same along the way. I did all of that and so much more. It was the most challenging, yet most rewarding experience of my life. I spent my days walking around New York City with my iphone taking photos of things that I had never stopped to appreciate before. While I had always been busy letting life consume me, I had forgot to stop and really appreciate life, the people, and the world that surrounds us. The images that you will see in this book are those same photos taken with my iphone between July 1, 2012 and May 20, 2013. Along the way, I would also write blog entries on a website that I owned, however that was lost due to not being able to financially support keeping it running and with that loss I also lost all of my entries. This book gives me the opportunity to tell the stories and share the photos in a very special way. It all couldn’t come at a better time as I prepare for my next journey- a 5-Year Journey where I will travel everywhere I have the opportunity to, stay with friends and strangers for a week at a time, make new friends, share experiences, capture as much as I can in photos and videos, and share it all online. I hope you enjoy this book and I look forward to seeing you out there on my next journey. Jer
The first stop on my journey was where the World Trade Center once stood. It has since been replaced with what is being called ‘Freedom Tower’. The photo to the right is what it looked like on the first day of my journey, July 1, 2012. Looking back, this was an interesting choice for a first stop on my journey being that living on the streets was about me finding myself. Freedom tower is symbolic of America finding itself again after having gone through 9/11. When we’re honest with ourselves, 9/11 was just a wake up call to what is going on in other places in the world. More than 12 years later and we find ourselves in a world torn between opinions of what would make this world a better place and going nowhere very fast in the process. It’s sad really.
America, where art thou?
We are a world torn between doing what is right and doing what is popular. We can see wrong going on and ignore it, because saying or doing anything about it isn’t popular. Conversely we can do what is popular even if we know it’s completely wrong. Just because it’s popular. We all want to be accepted and some would do just about anything to be accepted, without realizing that acceptance isn’t something that’s earned. Acceptance is something that comes naturally from those that see and accept you as you are, not as they want you to be. Accept yourself and do what you feel is right. It’ll benefit the world, I promise.
Angels Among Us
I hadn’t seen this photo since I had taken it and was afraid I had lost it until I was going through all the photos from my time on the streets. This photo was taken on my first day out. She walked past me and it felt like an angel had just past by. It was an interesting feeling to say the least. On top of that feeling, she was wearing all white. I took the photo and edited it to have the white surrounding her. Just so you know and don’t assume that she was out walking around wit this white light shining from her. ;)
ART IS SHIT, SHIT IS ART!
This will offend people. Good. I am tired of hearing, “That’s not art” or “Now, this is art” bullshit. Everything is art and everything is shit. It’s seriously all in the eye of the beholder. A guy took a Cambell’s Soup can and turned it into what he considered art. Did everyone consider it art? No. No, they did not. Do those pieces that he created sell for millions of dollars in auctions? Yes. Yes, they do. What I think is complete shit, others will see as art. What someone else sees as shit might be something that I consider art. Art is about connecting. I can see something and connect with it emotionally because of my history; whereas,you can see the same thing and not have any feeling about it at all. We’re all different. It should be accepted by now. It’s usually not. Btw, before you get your panties in a twist-Andy Warhol is one of my many inspirations.
You-The Artist
While I was on the streets, I learned a very valuable lesson. The lesson that I learned is that we are all artists. You are an artist at your trade. Regardless if you’re creating “fine art”, designing or building structures, fixing people or things, running a register at a retail store, or whatever you do-You are an artist! You don’t have to wait for anyone to throw the label or title on you, you’re already there. If you enjoy what you do, keep doing it and getting better at it- improving your art. If you’re not doing what you love, work hard to find a way to be doing what you love. If you truly love it, you’ll become great at it regardless of what obsticles stand in your way. A living is bound to follow. Be patient.
Aww, a cute little boy on a fish. Dream big, I guess.
The Art of Storytelling
We all connect through stories. In fact, our stories are all intertwined in some way or another. Regardless of how hard some try to fight it, we are one as a human race. While on the streets, this became even more evident to me than it had ever been before.. I could overhear people talking as I walked the streets and of course hear the stories being told. The reaction from the listener meant that the story had connected in some way or another. I would see random things like the Mickey doll in the photo to the right or the AMC theater in the photo to the far right that would remind me just how important stories are in our lives. Stories are what keep us going. We wait for, create, watch, and take part in stories. Most of us (if not all of us) live for it. We want to see what happens next. The art of storytelling is one of my passions. Creating and sharing stories through multimedia is a passion of mine. It’s one of the many things that I discovered while living on the streets.
Shocked There was no amount of preparation that could have fully prepared me for living on the streets. I really believe that. I got out there and the first part of the first day I was okay, but then a bit of panic set in. I had no idea how in the world or if I was going to survive. Being homeless had always been my biggest fear and yet here I was facing and turning it into some sort of adventure. Some said I was crazy. I am. It’s the first of July, one of the hottest times of the year and here I am with my backpack overstuff with clothes, a laptop, sweating all over the place and no plans or ideas as to where I was going to go to take a shower or if I was even going to get a shower or bath anytime soon. Along with that, I had made myself a promise that I was not going to sit around and just watch as the world passed me by. I had done enough of that already. So, not only was I going to sweat from the heat, but I was going to be sweating from walking around and staying active in the heat. By midday on that first day, I became very concerned about all the sweat- where I was going to clean myself and my clothes, how I was going to brush my teeth, where I was going to sleep comfortably at night, where would I use the restroom. Everything, all the worries just flooded me all at once. And for a few hours I became very selfish and concerned with only my wellbeing. I was without a doubt, scared. On that first day, just hours into the journey, I wasn’t sure if I would make it out alive. I had given up everything and put myself in a position, at least in my mind, that I woud either have to figure a way out or die trying and to do so without sacraficing the goal of the journey which was to find myself and my real passions. I did the only thing that I knew would keep my mind off all the fears, I walked around and took photos and videos with my iphone. It was a stress reliever. I felt at peace in it. Not only was I walking around taking photos and and videos, but I was actually taking the time to stop and appreciate the world that surrounds us all. It was quite amazing. Something else that happened while I was walking around was that I started noticing “homeless” people everywhere I looked. I say “homeless” not because I doubt that they were without shelter, but because on my journey I learned that home really is where you are. Home is more emotional than it ever will be physical.
As I noticed more and more people down on their luck, I began to cry as I walked. For way too long I had gone through life not showing much care for the strangers of the world that I had never met. You either impacted my life through friendship and connection or you didn’t matter. Sadly, and I hate to say it, but people down on their luck living on the streets fell into the category of people that I hadn’t connected with. So, I didn’t care so much. I’d give a dollar here or there, but then leave it at that as I continued on in my happy-go-lucky life. Now I found myself amongst them and a problem that we face in humanity became more of a reality for me than it had ever been before. All the sudden I didn’t care about myself and when my next shower would be or where I was going to use the restroom. My concern went to these people that had been facing these problems much longer than the few hours that I had been facing them. Here I was in public, walking and weeping. I didn’t have 4 walls of safety to hide behind and cry, I was surrounded by strangers. This was what I had thrown myself into. This was the journey that I had chosen for myself and there was no turning back now. I, of course, knew of people down on their luck prior to this experience, but seeing it up close and knowing that you are right there with them with no place to go home to at night, is more intense. I started to wonder more and more what their individual stories were; how they had got to this point; how long they had been down on their luck; what plans they had to overcome it. Time slowed down. That first day felt like days, but eventually it got dark and I started seriously thinking about where I was going to sleep. I had remembered seeing people down on their luck outside Macy’s on 34th street near Herald Square when I would walk through there after a visit to Times Square. I decided that that area would the best place to go at night to stay safe. It was well lit and almost always populated with people. I decided to start looking for a place to sleep around 10pm that night. I went to Macy’s but there were still a lot of people hanging out that weren’t so down on their luck. I was so worn out after such an exhausting day. I just wanted everyone to leave so I could sleep in peace. It was already going to be hard enough with having to sleep in a chair or on the cement ground. When you’re living on the streets, you can’t just tell everyone to be quiet and go away, they’re always there. I decided to wander around and see if I could find another place that wasn’t too dark or underpopulated, while still not being too overpopulated and noisy. I wandered around for 3 hours and ended up right back at Macy’s just waiting for enough people to leave for me to get a little rest. Rest came at around 2am. I found an area in the fence around Herald Square that indented and left space for a lightpost and some ground around the lightpost. I laid my backpack down in the corner to use as a pillow. I didn’t want anyone to be able to get ahold of my backpack without me having a chance to protect it. This was the last of my physical belongings and I didn’t want to lose them.
I didn’t sleep that night. I couldn’t. I was able to close my eyes for a bit, which was good enough for me. I kept worrying about having my stuff taken. It was foolish really. Here I was living on the streets and consumed with physicaly belongings. Meanwhile most of the people that surrounded me sleeping near Macy’s, had no physical belongings. Another fear and probably more of a legitimate fear was that there was this guy that was nearby sitting in a chair and every 10 minutes or so he would stand up and scream at the top of his lungs and then just start laughing. I won’t lie. It was scary as hell. I had no idea what he was capable of doing or when he would really break and go beyond the screaming and laughing. I wanted to get up and leave, but still figured that Macy’s was the safest place to be even with this guy screaming and laughing. My rest ended at 5am when the water sprinklers for the park started. I quickly gathered my bag and went to the nearest table. This is also when people start coming through to begin work. I don’t know that they could tell that I was living on the streets or not, but I felt embarrassed to have been sleeping on the cement ground near Macy’s all night. Then came something even more embarrassing (at least for me) one of the guys that had been sleeping out there all night at one of the tables, came over to where I had been sleeping and took a piss right where I had been laying. Sadly, it wasn’t just a one-off as one guy after another came and took a piss right where I had been sleeping. Basically I had been sleeping in these guys’ bathroom all night. I wasn’t about to do that again. So, I started to think about other possibilities for the night and also started considering options for bathing. Getting sick was the last thing I wanted to happen.
Home
Home isn’t a place, it is an emotional state. Home is where you’re most happy. Home is where you find yourself when you’re surrounded by the ones you love. It’s knows no physical boundaries. It can be in a hotel, apartment, school, or even in the outdoors. The sooner you discover that home is a state of mind, the sooner you can make the decisions needed for happiness.
ALONE
The absolute toughest part of living on the streets of New York was being alone. It was challenging. You have all the stresses of get through and making sure you survive from day-to-day. You manage it all alone and you do it while being surrounded by tourists from all around the world. After a while of sleeping at Macy’s, I figured out that if I stayed up all night that I could go to Central Park during the day and sleep. My routine had me entering the park around 5am and lying under a tree still using my backpack as a pillow. I would sleep there until around 10 or 11 and then would head to the swimming pool on Houston street and shower there, usually without soap and in cold water, but still it was something. Prior to going to sleep; I was, usually for the first time of the day, left alone in my thoughts. I would think about what my future held and wondered if I would ever find someone that I was truly meant to be with. It added to my drive to make it through the journey alive, but still it was a difficult, nightly thought.
The Saving Graces of Dollar Pizza
I’m thankful to say that while on the streets, I didn’t have to beg for money or food. I had out-of-state friends that made me promise to let them give me money through paypal occasionally for food and water. When I got the money, I would go to dollar pizza place and order myself a slice and then order slices for the disabled underprivledged people in the area. That or order from fast food chain dollar menus. It wasn’t healthy, but when you’re living on the streets there are not a lot of options. As much as I became a witness to how some underprivledged people are living and became compassionate about learning more, this journey was not about me being homeless. If that were the case, I was emotionally homeless long before ever beginning the journey. This journey was about finding myself and this place in the world. I am very thankful to have had discovered amazing people along the way.
ALWAYS
Regardless if we stop to see it or not, there is always something going on in the world around us. Just because you decide to not be involved doesn’t mean the world stops. It just keeps going.
Imagine
Imagine for a second if you will, waking up to a ballerina dancing in your living room. That is what capturing this image felt like. In life there are so many possibilities. I don’t know that this ballerina makes a lot of money, but I guarantee that she creates a lot of smiles. Happiness isn’t all about money. Most of the things that make us truly happy, have nothing to do with money. On this journey, I had to stop and realize that I had for the longest time been chasing others dreams and all because they looked pretty when described to me. They weren’t what I wanted tho. I could have easily been a District Manager or a Regional Vice President for a retail company by now, but that wouldn’t make me happy. You have to figure out where to draw the line between everyone else’s dreams and you own. Just because it would make them happy, doesn’t mean it’ll make you happy.
5th to Central
Every morning usually between 3 and 5am, I would walk over to Central Park so I could lie down in my spot under a tree and sleep for a few hours before heading to take a shower. I would take 5th Avenue down to the Conservatory Water pond in Central Park. Every morning without fail I would come across people sitting up sleeping on benches. They would probably be laying down if it wasn’t for police officers coming through telling them they had to sit up to sleep there, but I digress. Every morning there were people sitting on the benches and every morning I tried to find at least one person to talk to on my way to going to my spot to sleep. Some people living on the streets sometimes go days, weeks, and even longer without ever having a conversation. I’m not sure, but I would say that that would have a negative mental impact. That’s just my opinion tho. One morning while making this walk, I came across this young lady. She was probably in her mid 20s at most. She was sitting on one of the benches crying. I, being me, was not about to just walk by her. I sat down on the other side of the bench and asked her if she was okay. She was startled at first, but then she said no and then explained to me that she had just had a really bad day and was struggling with life in general. She continued and told me that she had been a prostitute since being a teenager, she had 4 kids that had all been taken from her, she was addicted to drugs, and she had been raped numerous times by numerous guys. That day was one of her daughters birthdays and she had gone by the place to where her daughter was now living to see if she could at least catch a glimpse of her. She couldn’t. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to react other than reach out and tell her that she could cry on my shoulder. By this time I had gotten closer to her so I could listen more attentively. She fell into my arm and just started bawling. I would be a liar if I said that I didn’t cry with her. She sat there with her head nestled between my shoulder and chest and just cried for a good 30 or 45 minutes. I had no words, but “it’ll be okay” and I don’t even know if those words were true. I was helpless in helping. I couldn’t help her. I couldn’t offer a place to stay to get back on her feet. I couldn’t do anything but hold her as she cried. It broke my heart. I don’t know how much me holding her in that moment helped, but I do know that had I not followed my heart and went on the streets to find myself, we would have never connected. I feel like, even though that moment was tough, I was in the right place at the right time. I’m thankful to have been the one to listen and then hold her as she cried. I’m thankful that someone was there for her in that moment.
Another morning, I came across a guy in probably his 50s or 60s sitting on another bench. I could tell that he was down on his luck, so I decided to try and talk to him. He wasn’t that talkative, but he did tell me that he was homeless and struggling, but that he didn’t want any money. I didn’t offer him any money, but he wanted to make sure that I knew that if I did offer him any that he wouldn’t accept. He then got up and left. I saw him a few nights later on the same bench and tried talking again. This time he told me that he really missed his family, but that he was confused and lost and didn’t know how to get back to him. I asked him what happened and he got up and left without saying anything again. A few nights later, I was walking and saw him and decided that it would probably be best if I didn’t talk to him and proceeded to walk past. He noticed me as I was passing and got up. I asked him if he was okay and he looked up. His eyes were glazed over. He mumbled something and started slowly coming towards me. It scared the shit out of me. I had never seen anything like it before. I turned as quick as I could and walked away as fast as I could with him slowly following behind me. I got about a thousand feet away and looked back and he wasn’t there. I never saw him again. On another morning I came across a hispanic guy in tears, sitting on another bench. I stopped and asked him what was wrong. He said that he had no food and was hungry. I told him that I didn’t have anything to offer him and that I too was living on the streets. After that, he told me that he was unemployed because he was illegal in the United States but things in Mexico were so tough and he refused to go back. He would rather be hungry in the United States than to ever have to go back to Mexico. I tried explaining to him that he could get food stamps here. He said “Bullshit” and got up and left. 5th avenue between the luxery buildings and Central Park between midnight and 7am is probably the largest contrast in wealth in American society that I’ve ever seen. On one side you have folks that have more money than they probably know what to do with and on the other side you have people who have absolutely nothing. We certainaly live in an unusually pacilluar world.
Golden is the Rule
I have long said that there is only one rule that I follow in life and all the rest are meant to be broken. That rule is “the golden rule”-treat others as you wish to be treated. It’s a rule that has made a huge impact on my life. While on the journey this rule impacted me in even greater ways. I think it was because of how I have treated people throughout life that I was able to make it through the journey safely. When the weather got to bad to be able to sleep outdoors, I had strangers that invited me into their homes. They didn’t know me and yet they allowed me into their homes to stay the night or sometimes even longer during the winter on couches. If that wasn’t an option then there were shelters that would allow me to stay the night. Regardless of the circumstances I managed to always be taken care of. I think it all goes back to karma and following the simple rule of treating others as you wish to be treated. I am a eternally thankful.
It’s Not Right and It’s Not Wrong.
What’s right? What’s wrong? This is the struggle. I have faced it head on and I have no answer. What I have is that regardless of what you say or do, people will think it’s right and people will think it’s wrong. So, should you just stop speaking and doing? No. No you shouldn’t. Some people get offended with anything. You will never get everyone to agree with you with every decision you make. It doesn’t mean you should stop making them. As long as you’re not hurting others and you believe in what you’re doing, you’re okay. And, by hurting others I don’t mean saying something that hurts their feelings because you aren’t living the life they think you should be. Fuck that nonsense. If I were worried about that, I’d still be deep inside a closet somewhere wishing I could finally be myself and live the life that I’m meant to live. And look at me now, I’m writing this book that might not ever get read and traveling all over the place staying with strangers. Go Jer, yes? It’s not right, but it’s not wrong either. PS. This book isn’t right either, I know. Tweet me about it. :)
Open the Damn Doors, Already!
Here’s a fun tidbit: while I was living on the streets and getting hate (yes, I got hate for living on the streets. I don’t care. I win.), there was a guy that wrote me to tell me that he loved and wanted to purchase one of the photos that I had posted on Instagram (I would post my daily favorite photos on Instagram in the middle of the night in front of McDonald’s in Times Square using their wifi.). I offered to send him the photo file for free, but he refused. He told me that he wouldn’t pay any less than $75. I finally gave in and sent him the file and he paid via Paypal. I knew that every single one of the photos that I’ve taken have had meaning for me in some way or another. I didn’t expect them to have any real meaning to anyone else. Share of yourself. Create passionately and release it for the world to be inspired/entertained by, but do it for you. Do it because you love it and gives you joy. Everyone else will follow when it’s right and if they don’t, you did it for you. (That photo he purchased is the red doors to the right.)
Self Meet World
I am one helluva cocky, self-centered, egotistical, narcistic, son of a bitch. I will never deny that, ever! I won’t say that I’m proud of it, but I will say that it is who I am and I will even do so in printed/electronic word right here for anyone to read. Throw some rocks at me, I don’t know. With that being said, I was constantly reminded on the streets; regardless of how alone I try to be or feel, I am not alone. There is a whole world around me and each and every person, well, they matter just as much as I do. EVERY SINGLE ONE. You included. There’s a big world out there. It’s huge and it’s filled with PEOPLE. Stop and take notice. That issue of your internet being slow or the line at the coffee shop being long or even the person that you want to like you not liking you. Yeah, those aren’t issues. It’s time to wake the fuck up. We have bigger, real issues. Just saying.
On Love, Not In It
Love is a funny thing. It’s amazing, but funny. I, like so many others, have tried so hard to figure it out. I haven’t figured it out yet. I can tell you stories about my experiences, but they’re my experiences and you might not relate and that’s fine. We’re all so very different, which is some of what makes figuring love out so difficult. Maybe it’s like life, not intended to ever be figured out. I mean what kind of fun would that be to live life already having all the answers? What’s the use if you already have all the answers? Now, let’s talk love-my love, not your love. My love has been an adventure of sorts. It starts with growing up in the midwest United States in what is now known as the “Bible Belt”, Yay! I grew up in a single parent home. My mother lived what some would consider a full life. When she wasn’t busy working a part time job to support herself, my sister, and me; she was trying to have a social life, which meant that I got the honor of raising my sister. I say that, not to throw shade on my mom, but because it’s the truth. Here’s the thing, as an adult, I understand the need to have a social life outside the home and I can’t judge. She did what she thought was right and she always told my sister and I that she loved us even after her 3rd husband held me up by my throat in the kitchen (at the age of 6 or 7)and threatened to kill me. I was old enough that this was okay, right? Well, she thought so or at least it appeared to be afterall she stayed with him. Such is life and she was in love, apparently (She was married twice after him. Not judging, tho). When I was 10, I was sat down by the only guy that I had ever known as a father and told that he wasn’t on my birth certificate and that it would be highly impossible that he was my dad. That was a tough cookie to swallow and not exactly a showing of love, but it is what it is. In life we are handed what we are handed and we have to take it and figure out how to work around it. I need to say right here and right now that I am not bitching about my life. I love my life. I am just saying that, I, like you have had some challenges to make it through with love. I have a son. My son is a blessing for me and I love him. I didn’t have him in a romantic relationship. I had him in a marriage with a friend. She and I were not married for love, we were married because she wanted to be able to come back home after joining the military. I was in the military and getting married to me, a military member stationed locally ensured that she could come back home. I did it because I loved her as a friend and wanted her to be close to home. We had a child together because we both wanted a child. With that being said; she knew I am gay and I knew she was bi. We knew that we could love a child together regardless of our individual sexualities. In 2008; after we served in the Air Force, she ran off with our son.
She for some reason or another thought that she would get away with it and not have to worry about me wanting to be a part of his life. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I had never been without my son before. Then, in an effort to keep me from seeing him, she filed a restraining order against me stating that I had abused her. The whole order was filled with lies and I didn’t even know what to do. I went to see an attorney and together we gathered enough information to prove that the events that she spoke of in the order, were indeed lies and this was just all an attempt to keep me from my son. I spent over $30k in fees for divorce and fighting off not one restraining order but two (she filed a second one in California after being defeated in Colorado where we were living after the Air Force). 2008 was also the year that I came out. I wasn’t where I grew up, I was in a new place- Colorado, working as a retail manager. I had met a guy and we had dated and I was ready for him to be my first boyfriend, but I wanted to come out first. I wanted, if I had a relationship, to be able to be open and proud of it. So, I called and messaged family and friends to let them know. For some reason, I expected them to be excited about it. They were excited, just not in the way I expected. One-by-one, anouncement after anouncement; I was “disowned”. My own mother told me that she thought that I was going through a “phase” and that she wished “all gay people were dead” and that if I was gay that she wished I was dead, too. Then she told me to call her if I ever “changed” my mind. As if it were a a decision that I made to be gay. The only decision that I made was to come out, not to be gay. I was born gay. It was tough. Most of the females in my family (other than my mother) were accepting of it, but the men weren’t. My grandpa said he never wanted anything to do with me again, while my grandma said she would always love me regardless. All of these people had told me my whole life that they loved me, yet so many of them were walking out of my life for being gay. I probably cried enough over all that loss to fill at leat 10 5-gallon buckets. I believe that. I cried a lot. It broke my heart. It tore me apart. I cry now thinking about it. Not because I’m not over it. I am. I just don’t understand how people can “disown” others based on how they were born-something they have absolutely no control over. It’s frustrating and disheartening. I handled it and I’m a better person for it, but still many people can’t handle it and end up taking their lives because of it. Since coming out, I have had 3 serious relationships. Each of those relationships, I can honestly say that I loved the other guy. We weren’t intended to be or we would still be. No finger pointing from me. In fact, one of them sent me a message while I was living on the streets that said, “you’re not budha, give it up!”. So loving and supportive.
Fast forward to me living on the streets, I struggled with being alone. I needed to struggle with being alone to come to the conclussion that I can make it through life with or without a guy and a relationship. Now, I would love to get to the point of having a relationship with a guy where the love is mutual, BUT I’m not looking for it. I want it to happen when it happens and to happen naturally, not with me looking for it. I’ve gone through most of my life thinking that I “needed” love and a relationship. I would search and search for it, thinking that if I didn’t search for and find love, I wouldn’t be happy. I have to say, in complete honesty; I am not in love (at this moment) and I am really genuinely happy. On the streets, I learned to love myself. I learned that if I didn’t love myself, I couldn’t depend on others to love me. That’s truth. I have seen more love from complete strangers than I have from the people that “disowned” me for being gay. That says a lot. Love can come from anywhere. You have to let it. You can’t force love. That’s just now how love works. It’s not. The sooner you learn to love yourself, the sooner you move on to happiness and I can’t be sure, but I would say that that is when you open yourself up to really fall in love with someone else. And for god’s sake please stop the lonely social media updates AND if you have love, cherish it, but please stop flaunting it on social media. We love that you’re in love and we’re happy for you, but every other update is a bit too much. It’s not jealousy speaking. I just think that some things are better kept private and enjoyed in the relationship, not with the rest of the world. Maybe that’s just my own opinion tho. That is all. :)
Empires and wooden horses don’t usually get along, but hey, this is my book. Onward we move.
YOU
Regardless of who you are, you are meant to do something in life. You are not only meant to be someone, but you ARE someone. Take advantage of it. Don’t let others tell you who you are or what you’re meant to be. Some of my struggle prior to living on the streets was that I had no idea who I was anymore. I had managed in retail, I had done some farm work, I was an Air Force veteran, but I had no idea who I was or what I was meant to be. While I was on the streets, I made the decision to be just be me. I know that sounds like it should be natural, but in the world we live in-with people trying to tell us who we are or what we’re supposed to be, it’s seemingly not that easy. It takes slowing down and sometimes stopping. Regardless of how crazy the world gets, you have to breath and stay connected to YOU. Then move forward with who YOU are, not who everyone else wants you to be. Living on the streets was my stopping and beginning point all at once.
THEM
There is you and then there is everyone else. You can either go against the world or you can be a part of the world. You get to decide. I will also say that there are a lot of haters out there. Don’t let them phase you or slow you down. There are people who will genuinely care about you and what you do in life and then there are those that will be upset that they are not you or that they haven’t found their happiness. Both types of people will stand behind signs that say “I’m just offering constructive critism” or “I hope you can handle critism”. You have to decide what is right for you in the end. Not them. I find myself happiest when I am creating- writing, shooting videos, capturing photos, etc. I create for myself first and then for others. I create because it makes me happy, the outcome of my creations is usually inspiring or entertaining. If I was always waiting for everyone else’s approval, I would never get anything done.
The McDonald’s Olympics
In the summer of 2012, while I was living on the streets, it was also the summer olympics being held in the United Kingdom. I remember because everytime I walked through Times Square, which was most usually daily, I would see Olympic adverts on the big screens. I remember very clearly looking up one night and seeing Tom Daley doing a dive on one of the big screens. I was in love, but I digress. During the Olympics, McDonald’s had a promotional giveaway going on. If you bought certain items off the menu, you would get pull-off tabs and be eligible for prizes. Some of those prizes were food. Now, not only was it olympics, summer, McDonald’s promotional giveaway, but it was raining pretty frequently in New York City. As you might imagine, when it rains, things get even tougher for those living on the streets. You have to seek shelter most of the time and you lose sleep, because the ground is wet. It was a miserable experience when it rained. I still get a little sad everytime that it rains or the weather gets bad because I think of those with no where to go. It is seriously bad.
Something else happens when it rains-people who are down on their luck and living on the streets get less donations from people passing by, because there are less people passing by and if there are people passing by they’re usually in a rush to get out of the weather. This situation is much worse for those finding themselves handicapped and living on the streets. So, me being a bit of a problemsolver, I took all of everything going on around me and instead of focusing on me not being able to sleep because the ground was wet; I focused on these people with disabilities living on the streets. When you let your heart take over, your mind will follow- it doesn’t have a choice. Not only could you find me out in the rain when it rained, but at around 11pm the McDonald’s across from the theatre showing Mama Mia (the show has since moved) would be throwing out their trash for the day. You could find me there. I would open up each and every bag and dig through the half-eaten burgers and fries; the milkshakes that had splattered all over the rest of the bag, the soda pool at the bottom of the bag. I would find every single giveaway tab that I could and take them to the handicapped “homeless” people so they could eat. I have never had my arms covered in so much food and stickiness in my life.
Coming Together
It’s time. There is no room for argument on it anymore. It’s time taht we come together, build together, and accept that we are in this world together. We can all still maintain our own opinions, but destroying each other along the way can not continue. We must stop it. I can’t get on social media without reading something putting down someone else for how they were born. It’s gone on for way too long and it’ll continue to go on, but if you’re reading this, please hear me out. It’s so easy to tear people apart anymore for how they were born. It’s not acceptable. I know that some of us haven’t ever seen anything further than our own hometown and sometimes that doesn’t allow for the mind to open up about other people, but something must be done. I stayed in homeless shelters when the weather was too bad, minorities fill the shelters. You can’t tell me that has nothing to do with racism. You can’t. In most shelters I was one of three white men, at most. We must move forward and correct our wrongs.
Disconnect to Connect
One of the things that made the biggest differnce while living on the streets was disconnecting. When I say disconnecting, I mean that I was able to step away from social media, email, and interaction with the outside world. I was able to focus on me, internally. I wish I could say it was easy, but it was not. I was so used to being able to get on my cell phone and check my email right away or read and respond to tweets or see what friends were up to on Facebook. I couldn’t do any of it anymore unless I was near wifi and I refused to slow down and sit in front of a place with wifi to do it, so most of the time I didn’t even mess with social media until late at night and even then it was limited and only when I was near a place with wifi. It ended up being one of the best things I’ve ever done for myself. I was able to find what I was really passionate aboutcreating to entertain and inspire others. It wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t forced myself to disconnect so I could connect internally.
Tear ‘Em Down
One of the greatest compliments that I receive is on how I am able to open up to people and feel free to be myself. I don’t know why, but it’s who I have become. I became this way through experiences. I have nothing to lose with opening up to people, nothing at all. The worst that anyone can do towards me is to say some harsh words. Words don’t hurt me anymore. They have no impact. Anything that anyone could ever do to me beyond words, is worth it to get my story out and inspire others to step beyond the walls that hold them back from being themselves. If I can’t live my life in a way that inspires others to live freely and be themselves, then I don’t see a point in living. I love people. I love people who can step beyond the walls that others have surrounded them with and just be themselves. These people inspire me as much as I ever could inspire them. The ability to be free to be oneself (as long as they aren’t hurting others) is very important to me and worth any amount of fight that I have to put up for it.
Squirrels Love Me
I don’t know why, but I came across so many squirrels on my journey that really just seemed to love me. They’d get so closse and let me take photos and sometimes video with my iPhone. There was a squirrel in Central Park that would always play near my face and wake me up. Then there was this one in a park in Queens that came running out at me as I was getting ready to leave. To be honest tho, I’m not a huge squirrel fan. They’re cute and all, but they also kinda freak me out. They are like half rat and half miniature forest beasts, but still so cute. Like you’d pick them up if you knew that they wouldn’t lunge at you and bite your face off or something. Anyway, I had a lot of squirrel experiences while on the streets so they deserved this page.
Life as a Game
Life is like a video game. It really is. There isn’t a person in the world that could convince me otherwise. In life you have levels, you can’t make it to the next until you learn what you’re supposed to learn in this level. It’s just how it works. If you don’t learn your lesson, you keep going back until you do. If you’ve lived more than a day, hopefully you’ve figured this out. It takes experience. You’ll get it eventually and if you don’t, you’re doing something wrong. Sadly, some people give up or, ummm, “settle” for a “stable” life even if it isn’t what they want or what makes them happy. It frustrates me to no end, but whatever, it’s their life. It frustrates me more to hear these same people bitch about what they don’t have or who they didn’t become. Bitch, get up and do something about it. Others, really settle for a stable life and it really is what they wanted. Those people inspire me.
Money Ain’t Shit
Yeah, ummm, tell that to the homeless guy that slept up on the hill behind me nightly in Central Park. He may disagree. Here is what I will say, money isn’t everything. It’s not. I’ve seen people make it to or be born into a shit load of money and still live miserable lives. And, usually the story includes them thinking that when they had money, they’d be happy. Guess what? Still miserable. Just miserable with money now. Yay! Here’s a little secret that might not be a secret to everyone. Money doesn’t make me. It shouldn’t make you either. It shouldn’t change your course in life. We are all born with a specific reason for living. We all have a purpose. We are all intended to inspire, fix, entertain, and/or create. Not one of us is intended to sit around and do nothing. Now, it should be noted that it takes money (yours or someone’s) to live and it takes effort (work-inspiring, fixing, entertaining, or creating) to come to that money. Even if you didn’t have to do anything for it, somewhere someone did have to work for it. So, I respect the effort it takes to make money in today’s world. Since this is a book about me and my experiences and thoughts, let me tell you what I would do if I had any substancial amount of money. I would create a holding company and with that holding company, I would invest into companies that I really believed in. Along the way, I would also invest into my own art and creations. I would never let my salary exceed $100k a year and it would only ever hit that amount if I exceeded expectations for the year. I want a challenge in life. My worth is not determined by money, but in the difference I’m making in the world around me. I truly believe that. I will not see a financial profit from this book, ever. The ebook edition of this book will remain free for people to read and share as long as it remains free for me to have out in the world. If it ever costs anything, people will only pay the fee that it cost for me to sell it. The printed edition will only cost what it costs the publishers to make. I will not see a profit from this book. I don’t desire to see a profit from this book. I want people to see the photos, read the text, and be inspired. If they can’t be inspired from it, I hope that they will at least be entertained by it. My profit will not be financial and will instead be in the connections that I make with others, if I happen to make connections with others because of this book. We shall see. I would love to see a world where money wasn’t the motivator for much of what we see going on, but as of right now, it is a heavy motivator of a lot of people. It’s sad. My joy comes from being able to live my life
creating visions that I have and being able to share those creations with the world. Money has nothing to little to do with it other than to help me continue to create and share as I go. That’s it. That’s all that money is to me-a device to be able to continue to create and share with the world. As long as I can do that, I see myself being a happy many for a very long time. What helped me get to this point? The single, most rememerable moment goes to being sold out for money. There have been many moments like this, but this one stands out. When my son’s mother was in labor to have him, there was a couple that had helped she and I financially. I had a truck and it started having problems. They paid to have it fixed and they paid for doctor’s visit for her to have a check up that showed that she would need to have labor induced. Now, I’m very thankful to have had them pay for it and to have their support in general. It’s always a nice gesture when people will support you (financially or not). Anyway, it got to the point of having our son. My aunt was there and she knew that this couple, whom was also present, had money. My aunt had a son that is disabled and has disease that causes tumors. She used this child to her advantage as often as she could. She would do fundraisers to raise money that was suppposed to go to doctor’s bills and then blow the money on crazy stupid things. It’s not my place to judge and I won’t. Anyway, my son’s mother started having contractions and wanted everyone to leave, so I requested that everyone leave. They left, but one of the people present- A preacher’s (from my childhood) wife wanted to stay for a second and pray with her. We agreed, she prayed, and then left. The next day, all hell broke loose. My aunt had orchestrated a figuritive blood bath. She had convinced the couple that my son’s mother and I were evil and that we allowed the preacher’s wife to stay longer because we loved her more. It was such a mess and on the day my son was born. I could have lost all hope in humanity that day, but I didn’t. They went on to become friends and went on a crusade telling everyone that I knew just how evil me and my son’s mother was. This lasted for at least 6 months before they finally shut up. It was a hard blow and only because my aunt saw dollar signs in this couple. I never spoke to that aunt again. I have forgiven her, but I don’t need to chance the negativity taking place in my life again. Sometimes you have to learn your lesson and just move on. When people tell me that the only thing that is for sure is family, I always get a good laugh. Some of my family has stuck around, but for the most part they have faded or walked away and I’m actually fine with that. The spots in my life that I held for them have since been filled with people that love me for who I am and I couldn’t ask for better.
Different Colors
I try hard to stand in everyone else’s shoes and walk a mile in what they’ve had to face, but I will not ever be able to do it the way that they have. I can’t. We are all so very different and we all face struggles and challenges. We all have ways of overcoming struggles and challenges. While some of this book might seem like me bitching about the life I have, it is not. I love the life I have. I was born gay. I have had my family and loved ones walk out on me. I spent a year on the streets. I have had my son stripped from me. I volunteered a portion of my life to military service. All of that and I can still say that I’m happy and live the life that I want to live. It gets tough, but everyone’s life has challenge, EVERYONE’S! I say all of this not to gain pitty, I could care less about having anyone’s pitty. I say all of this because I want YOU to know that regardless of the challenge you face, you can conquer it. Don’t waste your energy using your challenges as excuses for not making it, instead put that energy into overcoming the challenges. It makes a bigger, longer lasting statement than any excuse ever will.
Goals, Plans, and Such
A section on goals and plans from the guy who journeyed out onto the streets for a year? WHA?!? First, let me say that I make it both a plan and a goal to dance at least once every day. Regardless if I feel amazing or feel like shit, I dance every day at least once. It reminds me to be thankful for everything I have and everything that I don’t. That is the only goal or plan that is set in stone every day for me to accomplish. Now then, I have what I call “bendable plans and goals”. They are goals and plans of visions that I have of places that I would like to one day be in life, but they are bendable and can change. No plan or goal is ever for certain, I have allowed for my mind to accept this fact. Take this book for instance. I planned (about halfway through my journey) to create a book with photos and text about the journey. I originally thought my journey was done in Decemeber of 2012. I was wrong. In January I found myself in a shelter to avoid the snow for the first time ever. I had written a book with over 150k words at that point. The book was pointless, the journey wasn’t done. A year later I am writing this.
Less Traveled
I beleive in following intuition. I believe that if you follow intuition and it’s truly intuition that you’re following, you will end up being okay in the decisions that you make. I believe that. Now, I am not saying that it will be an easy journey. Intuition will lead you in ways that some people will tell you are the wrong direction. It’s like walking on a path in the woods. You follow this path because it’s there. Someone else came before you and made the path for a reason so you want to find and see what they made this path for, but then halfway through you get this feeling. The feeling speaks to your from within and says “What if you stop following the path and go find something for yourself? What if there is something better if you go a different route?”. This is how me and my intuation approach life. It’s almost a less traveled (or never traveled) path. I’m a curious person, I want to discover. I want to experience failure. I want to have lived a different kinda life. What’s life if it’s not worth LIVING through.
Give & Take Balance
If you know me, you know that I’m the kind of person that would rather give of myself all the time over ever taking anything for myself. I almost always would rather put myself and my selfish wants on a back burner and instead focus on making the world around me a better place. I’ve always been this way. I have tried changing it, because sometimes it sucks being different. It doesn’t always feel right even if it is. I have tried being an asshole and it’s not fitting. Assholes would score the guys that I thought I wanted or make the money that I thought I should make or just seemingly advance in life. I always thought I wanted that, but I didn’t really want it. It just kept my interest and distracted me. I will say that if you are always giving of yourseld and never stop to take in, you eventually run out of anything else to give. I have figured out a balance of giving and taking. I have opened up to letting people help me do my work and inspire others. I take breaks to take in the work of others and be inspired myself. It’s needed. It really is. You can’t do it all alone forever. You’ll kill yourself trying.
Isn’t he cute? And, look he’s breaking out of his box, aww! It’s about time, yes?
Pain
We all have pain. Every single one of us has pain. I promise. While what causes me pain won’t be the same thing that causes someone else pain, it doesn’t mean that their pain is any easier or any more difficult than mine. It’s all pain and it all hurts. At multiple points in my life I wanted to give up and just call it quits. The pain was felt so unbearable. I didn’t know how to handle it. The only option in my eyes was to just give up and call it quits. Then I looked around me. I saw all these people going through things that I thought were impossible to go through and they weren’t slowing down. They weren’t letting these things hold them back from achieving their goals and getting the things they wanted in life. This changed everything. If they could keep moving forward, then so could I and I have. Never let the feeling of pain convince you that you can’t go on, you can. You will never be handed anything in life that’s makes life too painful to continue. Someone depends on you. Someone needs to hear your story. If anything, the pain is a reason to live. If only to tell your story.
Look, it’s art!
Struggle
Struggle is waking up day-after-day and knowing that if you want to take a shower, you have to walk more than a mile to get it and then walk a mile back or not taking a shower or bath at all. Some people consider this a luxary-to be able to have a shower or even having running water accessible. Struggle is waking up and not knowing if you’ll eat at all that day and just being thankful that you have water to drink. Again, this is a luxary to some. Some people go more than a week without eating on a regular basis and they do it without realizing that there are counties of people that don’t have this struggle. Struggle is waking up in a world where religion and the ability to say “I am a.....” is more important than spirituality and being connected to one self (and God, if you believe in God) in a deeper way. Struggle is taking a bite out of a burger and being pissed that it wasn’t the way you requested it be made and thinking that you deserve better because of where you were born, the color of your skin, your gender, etc. No one was born with the right to anything in life and to expect such should bring embarrassment to oneself. One should be ashamed with the assumption that they “deserve” anything in life. Struggle is going any amount of time without sleep because the ground was too wet to sleep on due to weather. There are people that face this struggle daily any time that the weather turns bad. They can’t go to shelters due to strict rules or overfilling (yes, it happens, especially in bigger cities). But again, struggle goes deeper when you realize that there are people that have never had the comfort of sleeping in a bed before. Struggle is waking up and going to work and not knowing if you’ll still have a job or not or if you’ll be fired or pressured out because of the way you were born. I had a manager above me at a retail store once that made fun of one of my subbordinates for being gay to me. He didn’t realize I was gay and the jokes kept coming. I eventually left the company because of it. I am a different, stronger person now. He would be the one leaving the company if this were to happen today. Struggle is when you give of yourself selflessly and have faith in karma to give a greater return, but you do it not for the return, but just because you want to see the world become a better place. Struggle is doing what is right regardless of how many “friends” or “family” you lose because of it and the pain that that lose will cause.
Mistakes & Beauty
In this book, you will (or have) found many mistakes. The beauty of it is that I don’t care. Writing a book that include (there’s one for fun) grammar mistakes? How dare me. I’m such a rebel, I know. Nothing that I’ve ever done has been perfect in everyone’s eyes. It just hasn’t. Someone disagrees with something or everything I’ve ever said or done. Hell, me saying that causes disagreement. Such is life. We can’t please everyone all the time and some we can’t ever please. It shouldn’t slow us down from moving forward. Learn from the mistakes and improve or don’t. Just be you. I love people who can just be themselves and not give a fuck about what others think. Those people are making the world a better place to live for all of us and the future generations to come. The entertainment industry/media loves to paint a extreme picture of life. It’s one extreme or the other. There is a lot of work put into either making mistakes look huge or making beauty even bigger. It’s entertainment. The frustrating part is that the extremes are not how life usually is and it’s gotten to a point where we are all entertainers waiting for our next laugh, tear, or overly emotional moment. Most people are truly living for the applause; wether it be in a retweet, “like”, or response. For most, it’s about numbers. Living for numbers (money, social media response, etc) has become the norm. We all see the outcome of people’s success, but rarely notice the work that it took for them to be successful. There’s real beauty in knowing inside what you are meant to be and do and following that dream to make it a reality instead of chasing after someone else’s. Chasing someone else’s dream always becomes a mistake and is never beautiful. Find what you love and do it because it’s what YOU’RE meant to do not because of the money or fame that it might bring. There’s no happiness in that journey, only regret. Furthermore, you are not a mistake. There is not one person living today that is a mistake. You are here because you are meant to be. You are meant to be something special regardless if that’s inspiring others by overcoming obsticles or creating the world’s most amazing wine or raising amazing children-whatever it is, do it to the best of your ability and never let anyone devalue the effort you put into do it. Someone had to do it and you are because you are good at it and meant to do it. You are a piece of this world’s puzze and every piece is just as important as the next. I promise you that.
Nothing makes sense to everyone, but everything makes sense to someone. - Me
Out-of-Business
I’ve lived one hell of a life. I really have. And it’s not all stuff to bitch or moan about, either. I was born in Louisiana and moved to Arkansas. I have a mother and a sister. I could have been given up for adoption at a very young age and raised in the foster care system without a parent or parents. I wasn’t. I was given shelter, food, and the Disney Channel. What more could one ask for? Seriously, I have lived the life of at least 5 different people. Probably more. I was born gay. I went to 13 different schools growing up. I had a family that loved me for the first part of my life and a new one that loves me for the second one. I have a beautiful son. I was in the Air Force. I made a 6-figure income in retail management only to walk away from it to find more meaning for my life. I lived on the streets of New York for almost a year and did so after being there for only a few months. I reached beyond myself to learn more about the people and cultures that surround me in this world. Now, I’m writing and publishing a book. What?!?
I could die right now in this moment and be happy with the life I’ve lived. I’m satisfied with it. I’m happy. I’ve met some of the most amazing people and made some of the most significant connections that a person could make and yet, I’m still going. While I’m satisfied with the life that I’ve lived apparently I’m not done. I still have work to do. If I didn’t, I’d be dead already. I’m not. Here’s the thing, we all have one life to live. We decide if we are happy in it and we decide the difference we make in it. You are the one responsible for making your life what it is meant to be. If something isn’t right, fix it. If you haven’t done what you planned to do, do it. Where there is a will, there truly is a way. You just have to find that way and never expect anyone else to show you how to get there. If they do, great, but don’t expect it. You’ll be waiting a long ass time and it’ll never happen. You have to be the one to activate your life to be what you want it to be. Period. We are not gods, we are only people. We must do our best to make this world a better place for ourselves and the people that will takes these roads after us. The real difference comes from what we do to make ourselves a better people. The world needs great leaders who don’t need a title or label in order to change the world, they just do.
Close to Open
I lived through the experience of living on the streets for a reason. I always say that the reason was to find my passion and that my passion wasn’t only people, but to entertain and inspire people through the art of multimedia and the creations that I make using multimedia. The connections from this experience and through life have made me the person that I am today and while I’m not a world leader, I’m not a celebrity, I’m not someone followed by many-I have turned out to be a man that I am damn proud of being. I’m thankful to have been given the platform of this book to introduce that man and his journey to you. I am honored. The journey of me living on the streets ended when I decided to go back to school. I was able to use my GI Bill from my military service and it ended up paying for tuition and housing. I chose a photography school and the rest is history, kinda. I learned that school doesn’t make you, it just helps mold you. You have to be the one to MAKE you. No amount of school will ever determine how successful you will be. I wasn’t able to share everything about me and this journey, but I hope that it still serves as inspiration and/or entertainment for the people who take the time to read it and look at all the (pretty) photos. There were people and experiences that I didn’t get to share. It wasn’t because they weren’t important enough. It’s because some experiences with people are too valuable to ever put words to. The words would devalue the experience and I refuse to do that. Some things you just have to be there for to get the full impact of the experience. This book brings to close a very important chapter of my life, but it opens me up to so much more. In January 2014 I will/will have set out on a 5-year journey. I plan (we all know how plans work out :-/ ) to travel all over the place, stay with strangers (and some familiar faces) for a week at a time, capture photos and videos, share online, and then do it all over again in an entirely new place. I hope that you’ll join me or this next chapter in the journey of my life. I look forward to seeing you out there and having the chance to hear your story. Thank you for taking the time out to read/look at ‘here: The Journey to Passion’. -Jer
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Acknowledgements:
Kickstarter Sponsors (You rock like sugar cookies, yo!) Rodger Boots Kevin King Daniel Rodriguez David Choi Keith Carney Manny Nunez Also, thanks to (in no particular order, cause that’s how I roll)... Bran (This book wouldn’t have happened without her telling me that I needed to do more with the story. Through everything, this thing became a reality. I don’t know that it’s a book or what it is, but it is and the world must accept its existence now. Like a ugly little baby with three eyes). Speaking of babies, let us all pause for a moment and give thanks to the sweet little baby Jesus. Kevin for the water and friendship. All three of my exes-I would not be the half man that I am today without each of you. You each hold a piece of my heart in your super clean hands. Thank you. The band Creed. The people outside the United States. You guys rock! I’ll trade you the Kardashian girls for the girls from AbsFab. We’ll discuss, yes? Jill. Jill was one of the first people to accept that I was gay and then became my first faghag. Jim for believing in me to one day release a book. Not sure this was what we were talking about, but here it is.
Adrian for keeping me laughing throughout the journey. I almost died. Humor got me through. Thanks in part to you thanks in part to the people who take life too seriously. We got this! Adam for showing me that you can be a millionaire and still live one hell of a miserable life. Brent Corrigan and Brent Everett. Ellen. She came out and the country disowned her. Now they love her. See what happens when you actually get to know someone beyond their sexuality. The homeless veteran near Herald Square who had me playing music in the middle of the night, “because the world deserves music and we deserve to deliver it to them”. People who have anything to do with making or delivering coffee-You guys are like fucking gods or something. Finally, huge thank you to anyone and everyone that has supported me along the way. It was an intense journey, but we made it. Thank you. I can’t wait to see you all out there on the next journey. Here we goooooooooo!
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