When people think of the homeless, their mind often takes them to standard images of who they are and where they, supposedly live. Splayed out on the concrete of ski row; inside of tents lining major boulevards or underpasses; scrunched in a fetal position with a thin blanket in the doorway of a business late at night or early in the dewy morning. But such is the diversity of Southern California’s landscapes that there is a scarcely a corner of the region that homeless men and women have not adapted to. They take pride in their creations, however dystopian or unfortunate. Return to story.