Blog - Page 9 of 9 - Doug Winter Studio

October 9, 2017 By dougwinterstudio

Tell Me a Story – Leota Canady

I made Leota’s portrait in June 2017 at the Loaves & Fishes library. The key around her neck caught the light; the silver metal winked and touched my eye. Loeta’s key reminded me of the latchkey my Mom gave me that I, too, wore around my neck to get into our house after school when I was a little kid.

I asked her, “What does the key mean to you?”

Stamped into the worn metal key Leota wore was the word “Chosen.” “God has “Chosen” me and He has me here for a purpose. He has something planned for you, too, but we don’t know what that is. But He knows our every step”.

September 27, 2017 By dougwinterstudio

Tell Me a Story – Mama Reba

Many Maryhouse guests go to Reba when they are in need of someone to talk to.

“They call me Mama Reba,” Reba said. “They come to me to talk and I listen. If they ask for advice, I give suggestions. I’m very spiritual. I have the spirit of God in me and I take that seriously and so do they. Sometimes I look into their eyes and hold their hands and let them know that they are beautiful and to smile because God loves them.”

Reba has experienced homelessness for almost a year.

To Reba, Maryhouse is a beacon of safety. Here, she is able to access a warm shower, hygiene products and clothing.

“I love being able to talk to all of the staff – Miss Debbie, Shannon, Judy, Hailey, Marlena, Ella and Kaylee,” she said. “I love talking to all of the ladies and having them watch out for me.” [Read more…]

December 20, 2016 By dougwinterstudio

Tell Me a Story – Spyke and Craig – Loaves & Fishes Sacramento

I got out of prison in 2009 and I’ve been homeless ever since. I’ve been going through Guest House and they are helping me apply for social security and once I get my social security, I can try and get housing. But 99% of housing are apartments and apartments don’t allow large dogs. I have a large dog–half Pitbull and half American bull mastiff named Spyke. Most of the housing will not accept my dog. I tell them, “he’s not a dog, he’s a family member.” I’d like to rent a small house that has a little bit of a back yard. That way, he could have room to run so Spyke has a small yard.

One of the things I’ve had to overcome today is depression and at first I didn’t want to get up and come in. It’s cold out there and Spyke looked at me – “uh, I ain’t going out there, it’s cold out there, I’m staying right here under my blankets.” But I knew I had to come in for my social security paperwork and to get my phone on the charger. Librarian helps me out, and Lisa, she’s always gotta cheerful attitude and always brings me out of my depression. Mart is always there so we can put our dogs in the kennel and do what we need to do, get coffee, eat lunch, and the workers here are always helpful. They are always ready with a lending ear and if there is something troubling you, then you are more than welcome to get it off your chest as long as you don’t start getting violent.

Normally I get up when my alarm goes off at 6:30 am. I get up and hook Spyke up to the bike, come down here because they open the gate at 7 am, and the kennel opens up at 7am, so by the time I get down here it’s a little after 7. Sometimes I don’t get here until 8 o’clock. If it’s raining I stay at camp. [when it’s clear outside] On a day like this I’ll sign Spyke into the kennel, go over to [friendship] park, get my lunch ticket and my coffee but the coffee goes real quick. So, I’ve learned to have a small plastic jar filled with Folgers in my backpack, so if there’s no coffee I’ll use their hot water. Then I come over to the library, read the paper and do the puzzles, sign up for the computer, and after that I’ll walk Spyke and go to lunch. After lunch I’ll get Spyke and go do my [recycling] route and I’ll make it back to camp by 4:30 and get all my recycling separated and get it ready to turn in, I let it build up sometimes up to a week. If I know I need to go to the 99¢ store and get food and snacks I’ll go to the one on Northgate and cash in and then go right around the corner to the 99¢ store.

A friend of mine, Alissa, moved to Idaho last year and she could only take her 2 small dogs and she also had 3 large dogs. One she gave away, the second one she let him out onto the levee, and that left Spyke. She didn’t want to take him to the pound or let him loose on the river because the rangers out here have a “shoot on site” law. If they come into a camp and they see a Pitbull, their first action is to shoot the pitbull, whether it’s leashed or not because they’ve got it in their head that all pitbulls are bread to fight.

So, I said, “Hey I need a companion dog, I’ll take Spyke.” He was just about a year old, so I’ve had him for just about a year and a half. When I brought him into the clinic here he was just about 78 pounds. When I brought him back in August to get all his vaccinations updated, rabies shots updated they weighed him and he was 89.7 pounds and they said he still has 2 or 3, maybe 4 years left of growing to do so don’t be surprised when he tops out between 120 or 130 pounds, that’s the bull mastiff in him. I said, “Cool, we’ll be the same weight.”

March 4, 2016 By dougwinterstudio

Tell Me a Story – Harold Dean Winter

I was visiting my Dad in Thornton, Colorado last year when I made this portrait of him. I asked my Dad what it was like growing up without hair? He never really talked about it with me. He’s from the silent generation. I always knew how much it bothered him, so I asked him about it, this is what he told me.

My hair just fell out one day when I was 10 months old, no one knew why. That was in 1935.

I grew up very poor on a farm in Windsor, Colorado just south of Ft. Collins and west of Greeley. It was just farms and patches of dusty dirt out there and my family didn’t have the doctor visit because it cost too much money.

I was very self-conscious of my appearance and I always wore a hat except when I went to Church on Sundays. I didn’t like going to church because grown up people would walk up and rub the top of my head and throw comments at me. Everywhere I went people looked at me. I hated that so much.

When I got a little older, we moved into town, onto 5th street in Greeley and my Uncle gave me his bike. My Uncle Art rode that bike to work when he was a railroad man for the Union Pacific railroad. The bike was old and it was manufactured before the war. I was surprised it didn’t get donated to the war effort and melted down and used for war metal. That bike might have wound up as part of a gun barrel on a Sherman tank to kill Nazis or blow the head off Hitler but it didn’t, my guess is because my Uncle Art needed it to get to his job.

One day a guy from the Lions club pulled up in a big mercury sedan. He stopped me on my bike and asked me questions about my hair, my appearance, and my history. I never understood why people cared so much about the way I looked. He asked where I lived so I pointed to my house and he walked over to my Mom and they vanished under the shadow of the screen door.

After the man left my house I thought I was in big trouble. My Mom sat me down and said the man in Lions club was upset because I had no hair and I always wore a hat. He said the Lions club would raise money to buy a toupee for me. I guess the Lions Club members didn’t like looking at a bald kid wearing a hat riding around their neighborhood on a bike that should have been melted down for war metal.

The Lions club raised the money needed for the toupee and one day after school my Mom picked me up in our 1940 Ford and I went into town to get fitted for the toupee, see.

It was a strange hairy thing and it felt foreign sitting on top of my head, and it was so hot from the tape or glue. I missed my hat. I wanted to simply be left alone and wear my hat and ride my bike, but a guy in the Lions Club ruined that simple pleasure because he had a problem watching a bald kid in a hat ride a bike around his neighborhood.

Imagine that? He had the problem with me — and he had hair! I did not have single hair on my head and I never would.