My observations 4 (Journal)

These are my observations of interesting things sent to my dear friend via iPhone text messaging since Aug 2010. These are ongoing as inspiration is.

©Shaun Rudie

36 At the Mall

they don't know her strength watching her order coffee, see a weakness perhaps, but certainly not her strength. Creative wonder is not expressed, though happy curiosity lights her face…and mine hearing her giggle. She is strong, strong enough to move me.

37

I was introduced to pumpkin spice latte…okay, now I understand. Hot cups filling warm bodies, exciting pathways until they are comfortable that way. "Return to comfort" counters, dispensing distilleries with starry names and grumpy, edgy patrons willing to lose their grumpiness.

38

His animation stops. Water light dances across his face. He looks into the mirror of dreams and contemplation; at 5 years old, his contemplation is profound, enough to still his play-thought. His mind dances at the wish fountain.

39 Hao Wah Restaurant 

A happy birthday with a one candle cupcake and family members retiring from a morning of church. Two men, serious, as that is how men are to be, sit with a pleasantly round mother and daughter and red head child of about ten who seems perhaps visiting with them rather than a direct descendant. He is kind, gently animated, readying their umbrella, clearly not befitting them all, for the dash (I think not) to their car. All while two man-sized Chinese dragons in gaudy color face off above them, giving us full view under their skirts and the framework allowing manipulation to stir imagination and fear. Between them, a red ball lamp covered in thin fabric, diffuses light into their eyes, as if hypnotizing them. The family below is safe for now, the dragon's timeless flowing dress moving with the air from fans keep them aloft.

40

Damp chill, a clutter of cars, colors dulled by a grey sky and dripping with moisture as thunder crumbles the air. Just inside the restaurant, a cache of elderly women poised in their flex-slacks and polyester and loose cotton blouses stand with their suspender men, all grey and white-haired, waiting for their break in the sky. They are together, comforted, enjoying the closeness of each others thin skin and experienced minds.  A few feet away, a man talks to himself as he watches cars push through flooded streets, his voice a mild timber, hands in his pockets. He rocks back on his heels with his words and waits calmly for his ride to make the watery journey to him. He is smiling.