By Lydia Theon Ware i | Contributing Columnist The Emily Dickensons, the Octovia Butlers, the Chaucers, are being lost in a sea of murky laws and regulations. Statistics about homelessness, the number of homeless individuals in the surrounding areas, the median ages of the unhoused, the money required for continuous wrap-around services, all of these numbers do not include how many writers and artists who will never have their voices heard or recorded. In the midst of the river of silent unseen talent is a raft of inquiry and compassion. This raft is called “Cartless: The Magazine.” “Cartless: The Magazine” is a collection of creative work submitted by the Inland Empire homeless and consists of a quarterly 12-week workshop held at shelters and outdoor writing pop-ups in homeless “neighborhoods.” The workshop’s writings are then edited and published in their magazine. The “Cartless” ’24 workshops were held this year from August to October at the Valley Restart Shelter on Menlo Avenue, San Jacinto, where a dozen participant writers works ranged from personal musings to freestyle original art. Here is an excerpt from class, written by “Queen”: “My definition of QUEEN is simply a strong woman. I feel I have superpowers. They are to always keep pushing through. Endure what I have to do to get by. Knowing when to meditate on the next lesson. To choose to be a good QUEEN. On my way to the top of the mountain. There’s so many mountains to climb, but I know each mountain top is different when you get there.” “Queen” has two sons with her, and her time at the shelter was coming to a close. She had ideas of writing articles about the circumstances for women who have been without a consistent address. She was excited to participate in writing for a magazine that told her side of being outside. The first night at Valley, I was just taking interested participants names; they lingered and sat staring at me, wanting to share, wanting to be seen, yearning to begin. And so we did. 13 weeks later, “Cartless” ’24 was ready to be edited. I thought I would use Canva. It’s not yet done. Here are nine observations regarding using technology like Canva to edit your work: 1. A blank screen is better than a paparazzi-shiny Canva template. The words from your heart and your mind have an energy field that goes beyond the algorithms of a “smart” machine. 2. No amount of YouTube tutorials about the steps to take to create a publishable piece in Canva can replace an assist from someone who is well-versed in its bells and whistles. 3. Uploading content that has images needs to have the images locked in place in the document, or the entire formatting is ruined. [Microsoft 101] 4. Listening to the music of your choice, at a sound level of humming with the tune, will distract your “logical” mind so that your imagination can come forth and rise to designing your best template from scratch. 5. Taking a sky break, going outside to gaze at the blue and to absorb the sunlight once an hour and stopping at sunset, refuels your spirit and your vocabulary. 6. Homeless writers have a right to be heard. The homeless have the talent to grace the covers of Time, Newsweek, and Glamor magazines. Their stories and their lives have a graininess that does not translate into a 12-point Garamond font. Their raw sorrow of being outside, without a space or place; and the minor triumphs of completing their chores, eating dinner and putting their children into a borrowed bed, deserves an original design. 7. If there is no sky, if you are not free to go outside and your smoke break is hours away, pick up an imaginary “phone” and “call” your favorite cartoon character. Have an animated conversation about the good ol’ days of Saturday morning cereal and tent forts in the den. Just laugh. Be silly. Life is for fun. And fun is love. And then the words will flow again. 8. There are good uses for Canva. But old school people who still use a mouse to navigate their documents, well, the blank screen is still better than a paparazzi-shiny template. 9. If you take a walk around the block, when you have writer’s block and you don’t know how to finish, you will discover new ideas, and one of them may one day become a bridge from Homelessness to Home. New “Cartless” workshops will begin in January 2025 at The Valley Restart Shelter in San Jacinto. Lydia F. Theon Ware i is published in “MUSE,” the Riverside City College literary magazine. Her latest body of work includes “Howling Butterflies Need Water Too!,” “Awe; Love Letters to the Most High” and “17 Letters for Jesus and Me.”