6 July 2007. Continuous gray sky, ripply gray-green pool, wiggle of fingers from Alison as a hello... Later, young Asian man in white cut-offs, striped top, sandals, load of clothes in his arms... Ladder in front of dark window, two men emerge, carefully carrying an unhooked neon sign--clean living...they lay it down on the sidewalk...
Bernice Abbott in New York, sometime in the late 1930s. Figure emerging from basement stairs, the Bowery, three large porkchops for 30 cents, Yankee pot roast, oxtail stew. Meal plates, a dozen or two more, enumerated in white hand-painted script, adjacent window and wall... An expected plethora...
Woman behind me, ordering t-shirts for children and grandchildren, every detail spelled out. "Aren't I a good customer...", and "I do all my homework..." Greg stands alongside... "One, two, three, four, five," pause, "six, seven..." A world of normalcy, taken for granted. Necessary, even. Mrs. Bridge, in her large car, lodged in the doorway of the garage, unable to get out... The midwest, late fall, snowstorm on the horizon...
No comments:
Post a Comment