Homeless in Paris (2014)

///identity.conceptual.risk
What is the effect of becoming homeless in a global city?

Arrive at Kings Cross St Pancras on 08 December with:
- Socks
- Knickers
- Warm Coat
- Warm Hat
- 10 Euros
- Passport
- Blanket
- Notebook
- Pen or Pencil
- Backpack

Do not Bring:
- Phone
- Spare money
- Items not listed above

Collect Ticket from station using Code ******
Board the 1550 to Paris
Return ticket will be provided, ETD 22 Dec

No accomodation will be available throughout
No accomodation can be sought through request, coeercion or subversion
Begging is allowed but must be passive
Gifts can be accepted but never requested
Trade is allowed

___

2 participants take part in the performance
Paticipants attempt to increase value of money by purchasing and reselling art
Participants are unable to raise funds during the period
Participants attempt to abandon performance unsuccessfully
Participants are unable to find stable accomodation
Participants are unable to find stable sources of food and water
Participants return to UK without lasting physical harm

___

Counter man

Being outside is difficult.
But it gave me a space to see what I am really like.
As I board, I feel the crowd around me, “watch out”

I sit opposite,
They don’t sit next to me.
Nothing has to be said for me to understand what they are saying.

The train arrives at the platform,
We are all relieved that we are leaving.
I feel their gaze, but the grime on my skin protects me from their disgust.

I wait for them to leave,
Neither of us wants to risk a collision.
A mutual boundary I’ve learned, a position that has long become inflexible.

The station holds freedom,
A bag of goods, a previous life that has become so far away.
I long for the security of my little world, where my anonymity isn’t enforced by their avoidance.

He see’s me approach,
Tentativley peeling the ticket and passport from my gritty hands.
See sawing between avoiding our interaction and communicating his disdain at having to endure it.

“This isn’t yours”
“Yes, it is”
I want to be free of this life, I have a way out, and all that stands between us is the counter man, and his disgust.

The bag falls against the floor,
He reaches for a phone, a supervisor is needed.
A second set of eyes, one holding the bag, the other my ticket. My pockets are empty, my heart is broken.

The zip opens, the hands rummage
I am without power, I am without energy
“this isn’t yours, you need to prove it” “prove what?”

Being outside is difficult.
But it gave me a space to see what you are really like.
As I take the bag back, I feel the crowd around me, “watch out”.

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