I swear this guy might be Bob Dylan. The sound of his voice is epic, melodious and perfectly sums up the sound of the streets of California. I don't spend alot of time out in the wild west but every time I go I am floored at the characters that have sprouted up along the streets on on their perfect beaches. The warm weather lends itself to the creme de la creme of crazies and I spent a full day sitting and just listening to the songs they had to sing.
So here we have Paul, a heroin addicted felon who was incarcerated for 20 years living on the boardwalk in Venice. Surrounded by cheeky signs asking for drugs, sex, and money he was drinking a cocktail so foul it was an epic battle to just sit next to him. He smelled like 20 years of sadness. He had deep tourquoise eyes, made even brighter by the lightning bolts of red that shot straight into his pupil.
He lost his wife, his son, and his only family his daughter won't speak to him. He's got an ant farm of needle tracks criss crossing his tatted arms but he had this quiet dignity to him that was powerful and palpable.