For some reason, this snow-covered bicycle, chained to a signpost and probably untouched for weeks, appeared to me purposefully situated in place. On its side, the front wheel twisted up in the air, the rest of the frame perpendicular to the sidewalk, it looked like a sculpture dutifully covered in wet, white powder. It looked fake.
Seeing it there, seemingly by design, I imagined some artist in a long wool coat, quieted by the snow, finding the bicycle standing and, seeing possibility everywhere, twisting the handlebars until it fell to the ground in just the right way to capture the early blanketing of snowfall.
I’m sure someone already accidentally kicked the tire and disrupted the snow that caked the frame so evenly, but before that it exuded the same sense of contrast to its environment, or one-ness with it, that any well-made sculpture might.
Espressoing
A few more days
A final Hi meeting
The local neighborhood bar has a quiet time between six and nine. It is a place that specializes in coffee, beer and seasonal menus. There is just enough of each for a satisfying snack and effective buzz. After the time when the laptop lids close and before the social gatherings start -- there is a sort of twilight*. Often this time is a fugitive ground rife with creative inspiration and meditative work -- of the kind that results in personal reward.*twilight may refer to civil, nautical or astronomical variety depending on your social or terrestrial condition
A man positions his mouse on the edge of his browser window. He clicks, holds and drags the viewport first left then right. The content of a video game promo micro site responds and adapts to the available space. To the man, this is more delightful than the game itself.
A man laboriously moves his piano down three levels onto the subway platform. Classic vocals and strided chords -- he played so well I swore he was blind. Oblivious to the heat on that August stage, he was most in touch with his audience -- whom he elevated with his music.
A woman should do exactly as she pleases no matter what a man may think.
As the Dalai Lama once said, "It is a time when there is much in the window, but nothing in the room."
"No one understands me," she said. Her grandmother was silent for a minute. It seemed she was searching for an answer in the star speckled sky. "But no one understands anyone in this world, darling. We are all unique. It is what gives us a sense of wonder."