The Routine of the Day

I feel as though I need to preface this with an emphatic declaration that I honor and respect and awe at all of the subjects presented in Poetry in People. When I snap their photo (or share the photos that are not mine), it's because I feel a certain emotional or even spiritual connection to each of the people pictured.  They are never presented as a commentary, judgment, or mockery, but simply as a shared experience of being.  They are, as I have said before about this project, a moment of humanity in all its mystery and emotion. 

And so this man...

This man is known in our small town for sleeping outdoors in all weather -- including during Hurricane Sandy when a number of residents called police to do a welfare check on his behalf as he remained on a bench near an elementary school as the winds and rain grew increasingly oppressive.  His status of shelter and mental health has been the subject of public posts on Facebook with kind words ,myths, and personal testimonials of interactions all shared about him.

He is, by no means, invisible to me and any distance I give him is out of the utmost respect.  But I do have a series now of photos of him spanning about a year's time.  In each, they are taken at the same time of day, on the same square of sidewalk, facing in the same direction.  He stands there still, nearly every day in the exact spot, for a considerable amount of time (enough time that I can take my dog for a significant run and return to find him still there or just heading off) before moving along down the road.

Perhaps he is in prayer.  Perhaps a moment of meditation.  Perhaps neither of these.  But his routine speaks loudly to me for many reasons.  It speaks of freedoms and visibility and oppression, as well. 

I felt -- and still feel -- conflicted for stealing his moments like this and in sharing it.  I evaluate carefully my motivations to be certain there is purity in my intentions. We may, of course, speculate (that is only human!).  But we may not judge or interfere. In the end, I say with confidence, that it is with honor and respect that I photograph him. And it is for the gift of connectedness that I share it, hoping that in seeing him in his moment, on his square of sidewalk each morning, for whatever it may be, we may recall -- or find! -- our own.