For most of us, the word “home” evokes feelings of safety and warmth. But for Northern Rivers local Steven Harris, this has not been the case. Like thousands of Australians, Steven has lived the reality of homelessness, spending years walking or hitching between places, or living in bush camps out of the sight and reach of people.
“Homelessness started when I suppose I was in my early twenties,” Steven says, “I was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder and complex PTSD in the eighties. And I just liked hitchhiking. I moved around. I developed a terrible gambling habit, which always saw me without finance. And I just travelled somewhere new each day, each week. You could hitchhike back then.”
For Steven, being homeless was, at times, a way to cope by seeking solitude, often in the outskirts of towns or remote bushland. “The only way I could survive on a daily basis was to be removed from people,” he shared. Living in a bush camp near Ballina for two years, Steven endured harsh conditions, including being flooded out twice, with water rising to his hips in 2022. He paints a vivid picture of survival, describing the changing environment, from the disappearance of native wildlife to the encroachment of vermin, and also the constant fear of being discovered by unfriendly strangers.
“When they shut down the rubbish tip, all of the vermin left the tip and came into the bushland. Rats, red belly snakes… it just destroyed the ecology. There used to be echidnas running through there, green tree snakes – they’ve all gone now.”
“You had to accept that at some stage you may be discovered, and it may not be by someone friendly. But luckily for me, I was in an area where no one else would want to go, it was ridden with mosquitoes,” he said.
Art has been a fundamental thread throughout Steven’s life, serving as both an escape and a means of self-expression. From an early age, drawing was his way of coping with a turbulent childhood.
“Growing up I had a terrible stutter, I had terrible epilepsy, it seemed as though I had everything against me as a child. And the only thing that I could use to express myself was my art.”
“Told to go to our room, I could escape anywhere on Earth with a piece of paper and a pencil,” Steven said.
His passion for art grew, becoming the one constant amidst instability. He worked briefly as a cartoonist and portrait artist but found his true passion in painting. However, the realities of sleeping rough posed challenges. “Painting wasn’t possible when I was homeless,” he said, noting that drawing still provided an outlet. Now, housed and creating again, Steven is working toward an exhibition focused on homelessness and mental health, finding solace in portraying both the chaos and order of his life.
It was the floods of 2022 that prompted Steven to seek out support. After being flooded out yet again, he connected with Mary’s Place, which became his gateway to Social Futures’ Connecting Home program. He recalls walking into the newly opened Mary’s Place as his funds for temporary accommodation ran out. The staff referred him to Social Futures and through Connecting Home, Steven was connected to Homes NSW, Open Minds for counselling, and other services that provided essentials like furniture and ongoing support.
Steven credits the collaborative support he received as critical to his stability. “To have had the support from Social Futures this time around, it means the most to me,” he reflected.
For the first time, Steven has broken his usual three-month cycle of leaving housing, staying in his current place for eight months—a major milestone for him. He attributes this to the network of care around him, including his Connecting Home case worker Roberta, the Rough Sleeper Program, and the community at Mary’s Place. “Support is what’s keeping me here,” he said, “It’s almost like you have a family to look after you.”
Steven’s paintings continue to be an outlet, narrating his life story in ways words cannot. One of his works, Finding Calm in the Chaos, captures this balance—an order amidst turmoil. “The cube I’m sitting on represents the order I’ve created in the chaos,” Steven explained. He often depicts water as a symbol of emotion, using dark clouds and ominous tones to convey his experiences.
Despite the struggles embedded in his art, there is a glimmer of hope. “There’s always someone there, a light shining,” he said, referencing the support of Social Futures, Mary’s Place, and others who have helped him in his darkest moments.
Looking forward, Steven aims to complete an autobiography through his art, hoping to gather 20 pieces for an exhibition. Though he acknowledges the ongoing ups and downs of his mental health, Steven is committed to making the most of this point in his life, finding meaning through creativity and connection.
For Steven, programs like Social Futures Connecting Home and Mary’s Place have been life-changing.
“Never in my wildest dreams would I have expected after eight or nine months being on the list of rough sleepers program, that I would be in a place, honestly” he said.
Now, with stability under his feet and a brush in his hand, Steven continues to create, one painting at a time, sharing his story and finding his own moments of calm amid life’s chaos.
