The Walk Home
15 June 2006 21:18![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
I saw these on the walk home.
A black man on rollerblades with an acoustic guitar. When I say black, I mean BUH-LACK. I mean dark African black night time skin. He was wearing a black leather trenchcoat and black fatigue pants and a black shirt. His long well kept dreads were tied back. He was not wearing sunglasses. He was carrying a regular acoustic guitar by the neck as he rollerbladed elegantly out and between the flagpoles in front of the Terry Fox Memorial. His rollerblades were black as well. He was wearing a black backpack guitar case with a diagonal shoulder strap. The bright orange natural wood of the guitar he carried in his hand stood out against the intense blackness of his clothing, skin, and being. He was out and past before I could get my camera out.
A beautiful woman starting to go grey. I was waiting to cross the street. A rather loud drunk guy was having an animated conversation with a really old man who had blood down one side of his neck. It wasn’t fresh and he didn’t look hurt but it was disturbing. I thought that the drunk guy was accosting the old guy until I was standing beside them and I realized that while the drunk guy was indeed angry about something, the old guy and him had spent the afternoon together and were on their way somewhere else. There was a woman waiting to cross standing beside me. We both ignored the strange drunk men. She was starting to go grey. She had such grace, such poise, and looked way too young to have wisps of white in her hair but they looked natural. She walked quickly away and ahead of me and crossed later. Maybe she caught my naturally looming figure staring at her a second too long.
I saw a couple like that a few weeks earlier. A couple straight out of a Freedom 55 commercial. Both well tanned. She was possibly dark Eastern European or light South American. Lively dancing eyes and round happy cheeks. He was tall and well groomed with a sweater around his shoulders and an expensive pair of sunglasses perched on his head. There were both wearing light colours and clinging to each and smiling, having a whale of a time. They both looked like they were late twenties but they both had wisps of grey in their hair. They glowed with a perfection and health that looked neither feigned or manufactured.
I saw a couple on the walk home today and sometimes….sometimes. You know when you see a couple that’s so good looking it makes you almost sad? You see a woman that you would never have a chance with walking with a guy who cuts through your heterosexuality enough for you to notice his good looks. And the thing is, they’re laughing and the snippet of conversation you catch actually sounds intelligent. Other Planet People. A whole other world. I met a guy in New York who used to be an agent for models. An agent…..for models…..in New York. The night I spent in his company going from snazzy place to snazzy place was ridiculous. Creatures that ignited every insecurity I possess walked up to him every five minutes and talked with him and laughed with him and joked with him.
I wish I didn’t care but something just takes over. But enough.
On two separate occasions on the walk home, I saw people I work with pass me by and not notice me. I understand that there are a lot of people on Robson Street but I’m 6 foot 6 inches tall and we passed close. And I had seen them during the day already. I know that at parties and concerts I’m rather famous for just suddenly not being there and then being found just as suddenly standing right behind you a half hour later. I wonder if that has something to do with it. I seem to have a negative aura on occasion.
They were filming something that called for rain in front of the Art Gallery. A giant crane was up in the sky holding a bar with sprinklers on it that they turned on for rain when the shot commenced. I found it funny that they were manufacturing rain in a city famous for its rain. There was a crowd watching.
A young couple sitting on the Library steps sharing Ipod headphones. One ear turned to the world around them, the other ear sharing the same soundtrack. I’ve seen this a couple of times now and it always strikes me as a really vivid image. One time I'll get a picture.
I'm home now, I left work early at 8:30 PM. I'm going to watch The Lion The Witch and The Wardrobe that my friend Rebecca worked on. Them I'm going to get an early night.
3,6,9
The goose drank wine
The monkey chewed tobacco on the streetcar line
The line broke, the monkey got choked
They all went to heaven in a little rowboat
Clap Hands.
tags
A black man on rollerblades with an acoustic guitar. When I say black, I mean BUH-LACK. I mean dark African black night time skin. He was wearing a black leather trenchcoat and black fatigue pants and a black shirt. His long well kept dreads were tied back. He was not wearing sunglasses. He was carrying a regular acoustic guitar by the neck as he rollerbladed elegantly out and between the flagpoles in front of the Terry Fox Memorial. His rollerblades were black as well. He was wearing a black backpack guitar case with a diagonal shoulder strap. The bright orange natural wood of the guitar he carried in his hand stood out against the intense blackness of his clothing, skin, and being. He was out and past before I could get my camera out.
A beautiful woman starting to go grey. I was waiting to cross the street. A rather loud drunk guy was having an animated conversation with a really old man who had blood down one side of his neck. It wasn’t fresh and he didn’t look hurt but it was disturbing. I thought that the drunk guy was accosting the old guy until I was standing beside them and I realized that while the drunk guy was indeed angry about something, the old guy and him had spent the afternoon together and were on their way somewhere else. There was a woman waiting to cross standing beside me. We both ignored the strange drunk men. She was starting to go grey. She had such grace, such poise, and looked way too young to have wisps of white in her hair but they looked natural. She walked quickly away and ahead of me and crossed later. Maybe she caught my naturally looming figure staring at her a second too long.
I saw a couple like that a few weeks earlier. A couple straight out of a Freedom 55 commercial. Both well tanned. She was possibly dark Eastern European or light South American. Lively dancing eyes and round happy cheeks. He was tall and well groomed with a sweater around his shoulders and an expensive pair of sunglasses perched on his head. There were both wearing light colours and clinging to each and smiling, having a whale of a time. They both looked like they were late twenties but they both had wisps of grey in their hair. They glowed with a perfection and health that looked neither feigned or manufactured.
I saw a couple on the walk home today and sometimes….sometimes. You know when you see a couple that’s so good looking it makes you almost sad? You see a woman that you would never have a chance with walking with a guy who cuts through your heterosexuality enough for you to notice his good looks. And the thing is, they’re laughing and the snippet of conversation you catch actually sounds intelligent. Other Planet People. A whole other world. I met a guy in New York who used to be an agent for models. An agent…..for models…..in New York. The night I spent in his company going from snazzy place to snazzy place was ridiculous. Creatures that ignited every insecurity I possess walked up to him every five minutes and talked with him and laughed with him and joked with him.
I wish I didn’t care but something just takes over. But enough.
On two separate occasions on the walk home, I saw people I work with pass me by and not notice me. I understand that there are a lot of people on Robson Street but I’m 6 foot 6 inches tall and we passed close. And I had seen them during the day already. I know that at parties and concerts I’m rather famous for just suddenly not being there and then being found just as suddenly standing right behind you a half hour later. I wonder if that has something to do with it. I seem to have a negative aura on occasion.
They were filming something that called for rain in front of the Art Gallery. A giant crane was up in the sky holding a bar with sprinklers on it that they turned on for rain when the shot commenced. I found it funny that they were manufacturing rain in a city famous for its rain. There was a crowd watching.
A young couple sitting on the Library steps sharing Ipod headphones. One ear turned to the world around them, the other ear sharing the same soundtrack. I’ve seen this a couple of times now and it always strikes me as a really vivid image. One time I'll get a picture.
I'm home now, I left work early at 8:30 PM. I'm going to watch The Lion The Witch and The Wardrobe that my friend Rebecca worked on. Them I'm going to get an early night.
3,6,9
The goose drank wine
The monkey chewed tobacco on the streetcar line
The line broke, the monkey got choked
They all went to heaven in a little rowboat
Clap Hands.
tags
no subject
Date: 16 Jun 2006 05:03 (UTC)no subject
Date: 17 Jun 2006 10:17 (UTC)That other vidfeo is remarkably... perfect.