Possibly the best way you’ll spend four-and-a-half minutes today.
People like Jim Power -and the art he creates, and the community it, in turn, creates -are the reason I love New York City so much. But the fact he’s homeless is infuriating. Makes the stuff in Tampa right now a lot harder to watch, much less stomach.
I had the distinct pleasure of interviewing journalist Steve Lopez about his book The Soloist last year; the film version of his story, involving his unlikely (if wonderfully fated) relationship with musician Nathaniel Ayers had just wrapped, and I was curious as to how Lopez felt about his relationship with his schizophrenic, formerly-homeless friend being portrayed onscreen.
I’ve admired Lopez for a while, because he engages in the sort of journalism I aspire to: socially-conscious, full of humanity and integrity, shot through with passion. He writes about the most marginalized people in our society -people like Mr. Ayers, whose stories, while incredible, might never get told were it not for his bravery and heart. Yes, heart. Some journalists have them, you know.
After being moved up from its December release, the film The Soloist was finally released yesterday. I’m curious to see how it will marry the hugely important artistic sides of the tale with the terrible, sometimes-frightening twin realities of mental illness and homelessness. At the end of reading Lopez’s book, I was moved beyond words, and the only thought I had was to put on Beethoven. I’m sure Mr. Ayers would like that.
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