Art gives a person who is suffering from mental illness a way to communicate their inner world to those on the outside. A projection of the mind into matter through paint, ink, words, movement, film, or ones and zeros. Each artistic medium provides an inner circle of practitioners to commune with, providing companionship through shared practice. In this blog entry, I present a man I met near The Majestic Diner of Atlanta known on the streets as Prophet John. I recorded this video of him performing a poem Corporate America. Often self-taught, art of this kind is often known as outsider art:
Yesterday I wrote an article on Medium and WordPress about my own outsider artwork. Part of this collection is a piece called Azrael. Azrael is the high angel of death in Islam and Judaism. Prophet John creates ink drawings of creatures from what he calls The Black Galaxy. I bought the Black Galaxy Raptor from him for five dollars and made the following collage from it:
I asked Prophet John, "What force does the Black Galaxy Raptor stand for in the human psyche?" He replied:
Darkness. Darkness is not evil, look at the blacks on our Atlanta streets. They have to deal with so much crap! I have Lakota Native American blood, and thus share a similar fate as they. Here is my poem Judas.
He then recited a poem called Judas to me:
Prophet John shared with me his struggles on the streets and talked about his strong faith in God. He described God as not belonging to any religion, but rather as potentiality itself. He said that he has a book about his faith that he would like to write with me. I gave him some advice on how to self-publish a book for free and then bought him a milkshake.
We parted ways and I went into the Majestic Diner to eat my dinner. One feature that stands out to me about this interaction is how art served as a currency for exchange. One of the most common trends that I see with how most people treat the homeless is that they seem to see no value in people on the street. It's common for people to walk by the homeless with an aura of fear and mistrust. I put this entry into my blog five years ago:
Why we should give our lunch money to the poor. Every day in June and July I have taken the MARTA train into downtown Atlanta to attend Georgia State University’s education program. Each day I visit this part of Atlanta, I am struck by the sheer amount of suffering and homelessness that exists on the streets of Atlanta. I do not entirely understand why downtown seems to be a meeting place for the poor and disenfranchised, but I know one thing and that is that many people here are tired, worn out, and dirt poor. The sheer size of suffering in our own cities in the richest country in the world is a symptom of a psychological ailment, greed. The society that is needed for America is a culture of giving and sharing. If your neighbor asks of you to give him your cloak, you should give him your tunic too. The Atlanta culture is one of massive isolation and distance between people. People travel huge distances to work, to church, and to the grocery store in steel and glass enclosures that isolate and “protect” people from other humans. What is to be afraid of when you see a poor person? Is is the desperate state that these people are in? Is it the smell of urine or feces? What is it that prevents people from giving freely of themselves to others? I think the situation is complex. People are afraid of giving because they think it is a waste. Why waste capital on someone who you think is disposable and therefore not worthy of economic care?
The culture of Atlanta is in need of idealistic people who are willing to give up comfort, a big home, a cushy paycheck, and the security of isolation. To isolate from the suffering is to be safe. It is to live unchallenged and afraid. There is no reward for giving freely but the satisfaction that you have done something nice for someone else. Whether you give because you think God tells you to do it or you give because you care for your fellow human being with no desire for reward in some promised afterlife, the human gift is divine. I do not care what you call it, gift is the only water in the desert of suffering that exists on earth that can heal someone’s body and mind to live a life of true serenity and peace. To get a job you need to eat and drink and live in a safe space. People that think that it is possible for the homeless and disenfranchised to “just get a job” have never been truly subjected to the cold, harsh reality of being in such as situation yourself. That, or hearts freeze on the street.
Five years after writing that post, I have lived on the street for a time myself due to my mental illness bipolar disorder. In the next entry of this website I will describe this in more detail.
Azrael Atlanta 