I have long admired street artists - especially the musicians. I rarely pass without giving them something for their effort. Of course there are the usual frauds, folk who have picked up a cheap instrument and can barely hold a tune - like the squeeze box player in Ayr High Street who has one snatch of a tune that she plays over and over again. There is also, in the street artist population as in any other subset of society, those with mental health issues, forced onto the street by their inability to conform to societal norms or who refuse to wear the strait jacket that might enable them to "fit in".
But in my rose-tinted romanticised view I see street artists as free agents, liberated to indulge their gifts and to share those gifts to lighten others' days by providing bright spots in otherwise gloomy landscapes.
In street artists I see the calling fulfilled that belongs to us all - to share our gifts for the benefit of others, creating a world in which our mutual sharing lightens the load and makes each day that bit brighter. We are all called to practice our street artistry.