Siting in Plato’s Allegory of the Cave, like a glass half full, he saw, through the wall.
portraits
Rose
I stopped to look at a rose bush today. It had tightly wound new buds waiting to open It had partially open flowers. it had perfect fully blown roses, wilting roses, dried petals, shriveled leaves. It had all phases of rose on it at the same time. In a way it defined and defied time. All at once. And so pretty.
Flavors and Colors
My mother liked dark chocolate and mint, my Aunt Martha also. Even though they didn’t like each other, they both liked dark choclate with bright white mint inside. Inside those slim little paper sleeves, with the black and gold or shiny emerald green. Should be a few lying stylishly on the silver tray in Grandmother’s dining room. I hope the elevator works. Always feel a bit like a caged bird in there, singing as I go higher until it comes to a clangy metal, abrupt stop and I have to fight the cranky gate.
Cherry Vanilla was another favorite of my mother’s. For ice cream. Does that still exist? What about peppermint ice cream, the pink kind. Is it amidst the rocky road and the cookie dough?
Who knew they were going to change the names of what I considered centuries old, unchanging colors? Who knew you were going to be able to buy a watercolor set without Alizarin Crimson? My grandchildren will probably not paint with Cerulean or Ultramarine Blue. They’ll be called something else.
Old World Blue and Medium Blue Straight Up, or something..
Real Life. School Supplies
There is a difference between Office Max and Office Depot. Office Max has cooler folder designs. I went back again to get more.
A latina with her small daughter (and small son and husband) is asking us people behind her in line something intensely. I am thinking maybe she doesn’t have enough money to finish the sale and am ready to contribute. But no, that isn’t it. So I ask her in Spanish and she answers in Spanish but I still don’t get it. Either do the other people in line. Then, with the two languages now all-mixed-up and lots of (very important) hand gestures, I get it.
The folders (which she is buying for her daughter’s school) are $0.01 each (that’s one cent) but there is a limit of 5 per customer so she has enough money for the whole school which is like $5. and she is needing people to help her 5 cents at a time. We all of course help now that we understand the situation but there’s only 4 of us in line. Is she going to be there all day, I wonder. I give her some bills also. “For the cause” I say.
I am thinking WTF which is what I usually think about any situation involving public school, and ask her in Spanish the name of her daughter’s school. “Ascend” she says, “in Oakland”.
With a mother like that, those kids can possibly go places, even with school as bad as it is.
Javier
Javier is always thinking. Javier is always day dreaming. Sometimes as he’s walking down the busy sidewalk his eye will randomly land on something, a bruise on a knee, for instance. He will think, “Oh Yeah..” and soften a bit. Where he goes not even his best friend knows.
Sydney
Syndey takes Spanish class. Maybe that’s why he is still so sharp at an advanced age. His mind will never fail him. That much is clear.
He collects interesting plastic bags from far away places he sometimes goes. This is what he carries his homework in. No need for such extravagances as buying a bag. Not for him, anyway, he shrugs with a smile.
Harold
Hariold likes to ride hard. Road ride. He has a beautifully basic slim, skinny even, luciously painted bike and this is where he is finally comfortable in the world. His strongest desire is to conquer that hill. He’d rather ride steeply straight UP than take the easier more gradual route which in the end takes the same time to get to the same place. He likes to do it the hard way. He rides hard.
betweenstops 