Tales and travels of a street musician - Fiction based on a true story

In my youth, I traveled the country as a free-spirited street musician. Every town had its tales. I would set down my violin case which I had painted and decorated inside and out, on the pavement. Crystals and other shiny things would be carefully arranged on a green velvet cloth inside the case. In this way, I hoped to inspire passers-by to add to the small collection of coins that I had sprinkled around the sparkling trinkets.

For a moment I was a magpie. the case was my nest. Decorated with all that might attract that special someone or something.

Next, I plugged my violin into a little speaker, set up some backing tracks on my phone, and allowed the music that began to flow through my amp to inspire me.

By the end of the day, the case was sometimes full of the most surprising things. An apple pie, chocolate biscuits, & a bracelet from a rejected suitor. Tickets to a Lionel Ritchie concert, & a telephone number with an invitation to play at a polar bear release party. (The stuffed polar bear had finally made it through customs after it was officially certified as antique, and not a newly purchased recently deceased animal.)

I treasured the unique and personal gifts that I received, but it was the memories of the more intangible gifts given that etched a permanent place in my heart. In each place I visited, I collected stories from people of all ages and situations. One such treasure was the fierce flirtatious 90-year-old woman whose fingers had only just failed at allowing her to play Flamenco guitar. She wanted to go out in a blaze of fiery passion at the hands of a jealous lover she said. She made my day.

I felt sad that one man had given up his love of saxophone for his wife. She saw it as an intrusive and unwelcome noise. Competition to the life she envisioned for them. 40 years later he still yearned for his sax. Then I celebrated the 80-year-old woman who was still touring rest homes to perform Bach on her cello.

Sometimes I would put my violin down and just listen. To the young people, rejected by their families and living on the street. Or the addicts always looking for their next fix. I learned not to judge a book by its cover. The street dwellers' tales broke my heart, but their strength also inspired me.

I will never forget the man begging outside Louis Vuitton. He looked about 30. He shook his cup as I passed. I bent down, weary of the constant demands for money from people begging. I said to him gently, perhaps you could find a way to develop a talent while you are sitting there. Further yourself in some way.

His eyes shone as his voice loudly struggled to form words at all. I made out the sentence "I've got a brain injury" and I suddenly realized the strength it took for him to be sitting there at all. He didn't just sit there though. He blessed every person who passed with good vibes regardless of their contribution, or not. He would raise his hand and yell a broken sound that could be translated as YEAH!! his whole being would light up. His enthusiasm for life was contagious.

When he died I went to his funeral. His parents had a unit for him but he chose to live on the street. He had lived an adventurous life before his injury. He didn't want to live as a disabled person in a room, in a suburb, where the walls blocked life out.

Then there was the man who was a hoarder. He was living in the bush because there was no room in his home for him. He was also the sweetest kindest man. I came to genuinely think of him as a friend. Sometimes his words were the only kind words I received all day.

I visited many towns on a regular basis. So I got to know the characters featured in each town's dramas. The hardest to witness were those whose lives didn't seem to progress at all year after year. The young people who still didn't have a home 3, 4, 5 years later.

I would see Scott every time I was in Birkenhead. The last time I'd seen him, he'd missed his welfare appointment. His phone wasn't charged. He couldn't set the alarm on his uncharged phone. so he'd fallen asleep under a tree somewhere, sleeping through his appointment & losing his slight chance for food or money.

Scott was skin and bone. Obviously going hungry. He seemed unable to do even the basic functional things he needed to improve his situation. I was only in town for a day or two, I gave him some of my meagre earnings to buy a meal and left him with words of encouragement. Inside I felt his hopelessness & despair. There was a prayer in my heart for him as I got on the bus to leave.

It was a long time before I came back. I was sitting outside the coffee shop at the entrance to the mall when he walked by. He looked clean and had shaved. His clothes were also clean and fresh. There was a spring in his step as he walked up to say hello.

I couldn't believe the transformation. It turned out that the local Salvation Army thrift store had taken him on as a shop assistant. They had helped to pull him out of the gutter and given him a sense of purpose and value. In return, he blessed them with his diligent work in their store. A situation where someone's life had seemed hopeless and only on a downward trajectory had turned around. They had reached out to him with true faith and love and his spirit had responded. This made me very happy.

There were 2 others who made it off the street, after many years where it seemed their path was set in stone to live and die there.

To be a witness to these transformations was the greatest treasure from my years of playing music on the streets. I don't know exactly how the others found their way out after being lost for so long. But it's enough for me to know it happened. Now because of that witnessing, I can pass on hope to others from a place of knowing.

Transformation can happen at any time. Be open, be willing. Allow grace. I no longer work on the streets playing music. I found another path too. In my most desperate moment, I followed a trail to a cherry orchard. I worked there pruning trees for four years. From that, I was able to buy land and begin a whole new journey.