Puck

Meet Puck. Chilling close to the entrance of Dolores Park in San Francisco. At first glance he appears to be a young vagabond hippy resting his weary limbs, but suddenly you notice a blanket spread out before him displaying intricate woven jewelry. You ask if it's his or someone elses. Almost offended he replies, "It's all mine." Selling to stores isn't really his forte. As he explains, "They only take on consignment. I can have a piece worth thousands of dollars sitting in a shop, not being sold. It's a waste because I can sell it a lot quicker on my own. This way I get to meet my customers and put certain energies into the stones that are right for the person. In a store you might have a cow herder pick something up for a cattle rancher. The energies get confused and it's counter-productive. I make sure that doesn't happen."

To ask Puck where he originally came from seems irrelevant for he lives everywhere. Always traveling, always moving on to a new spot, especially when the cops get into his business. He glances furtively down at his blanket of wares. I suspect he does not have license to sell. He says he started his trade out of necessity. He has his stones and his dog Roxy.

He talks about the properties of the different stones. I pick-up white moon quartz which reflects rainbows and quickly put it down, yet I want to keep touching it. The stone makes me feel high, ungrounded, somewhat dizzy. It feels powerful. He says, "Moon Quartz is reflective to the energy around you." He adds, "Crystal with rainbows are spellbinding, particularly for women. Take diamonds for example. Every time a woman looks at her wedding ring, she remembers she's married, not just because of what the ring represents but because it puts a spell on her." If it was up to Puck he would have couples create their own rings, work with the gold too and put their own special energies into it to make marriages really last forever. 

A very dark stone attracts me, it's a meteor he tells me. It almost feels otherworldly, somewhat dark. I want to touch it and put it over my heart but it feels like the wrong thing to do. It feels like a magnet that will attract energy towards me. But I'm unsure if it's the right kind. It feels manipulative and somewhat frightening. He tells me that the first time he wore a meteor it made him dizzy.

He explains how these stones are all part of the earth, they're alive and many of the crystals continue to grow. "I've been in many life-threatening situations and it feels like my backpack of stones saved me," he says.

He shows me what I assume is a belt. "Yeah, women tend to wear it as a belt but I wear it over my chest," he says. Woven together with powerful amulets, the piece feels very strong and protective. I ask him how long it took to make and he answers something like 240 hours. I laugh at his speech. Refreshing at someone seeing life in hours not days. He works when he can. Life for him does not seem to be in chronological order.

What attracts me most and what I eventually purchase is black opal from Honduras. It feels magical to me. "It's only been three years out of the earth," he says. It's dark but sparkles rainbow glitter when held up to the light. He's unsure of its properties but he says he thinks it prevents people from becoming zombies. This is based on a dream he had. People were entering a big room where they were invited to eat sushi. What they didn't know was that the sushi was made out of zombie flesh. They felt okay after eating it but started displaying zombie characteristics the moment they left the room. This is because on the walls of the room there was black opal. The moment they were out of touch with the black opal they went crazy. "I managed to escape a different way," he says, "So I was okay."

I sit and and talk for a few hours with Puck and his dog Roxy lays near me, allowing me to gently pet her. Passer byes mistake her for mine. Puck ask my permission before rolling a joint. It's his blanket not mine, so I'm not one to refuse. He offers me a hit. I politely decline but ask, "What about cops."

He says, "They won't bother me, besides I have have a medical marijuana card." 

I tell Puck that I just moved from New York to the West Coast. "I'm currently staying in Los Angeles with my sister; trying it out."

He says, "That's good. People are very cool there with you figuring out what you want to do. Everyone seems to be doing that in LA." 

"And they're not okay with that here?" I asked.

"Not as much," he replies. "In San Fransisco people come to heal so they're a little more selfish."

He barters to survive. Some girl drops off a sandwich for him; a guy some weed. He asked a man standing over the blanket if he minds putting out a cigarette since Puck has Asthma. The man gets mad and grumbling that he can buy from someone else slinks away. Puck excuses this behavior saying that the man was smoking because he feels he needs it, miserable in some way, using the cigarette as an escape.

Puck doesn't have a phone anymore because he says he doesn't need it. He's able to get along just fine without one; connecting with people and getting in touch just naturally. Tapping into the energy and being in sync with frequencies of being in the right place at the right time. He says that radio waves destroy these frequencies and the more you're in touch with radio waves the more out of touch you become with yourself and you need more. He briefly twists his body into hunchback form to demonstrate someone bent over a computer or phone.

Puck mentions that he's going up to the mountains soon to work on a farm and other odd projects. He's a vagabond, riding the highs and lows of life, seeming to get the deeper lesson behind it: just to be. He uses his talents and he is. "One day I hope to settle in one place but for now, I have mountains, farms, festivals and Roxy." He says with a sidelong glance and adds, "Though it's hard having a dog sometimes when it comes to finding a place to stay and I can't really go to late-night-parties since I can't bring her with me." But he laughs, "It keeps me out of trouble."