22 May 2020. Begin Again.
Yes, always a good idea--and things can change. A truism, but still important to remember. The patterns we so much enjoy--they're also our confinement. Return to find something new, maybe that's a better approach. For instance, the sound of Andrew's voice just now, from over the fence. An attorney, teaching law at Cal--you hear it in the timbre, and the articulation of his phrases. And yet he's young, so the bounce is there, too--lifting at unexpected moments with each utterance. I don't really hear the words, just the sound of his confidence. At ease with making sense. Can't quite decide whether it's a distraction--but why not notice?
Like the muslim man yesterday outside Rivoli on Solano. Sliding himself into a sedan, the door ajar. I see his cap first--that characteristic short cylinder, unadorned--a funny way to describe it, I admit--and then follow to his garment--a dun-colored kurta--which confirms his faith. Maybe Afghani, though? Should I not recognize the difference?
I try not to make assumptions, that's what the young Palestinian woman said, at a time when I very much needed to be reminded. Assumptions that close us into a form, even as it recapitulates the world.
Better the young couple on the right. They cross the Alameda together, hand in hand. I wondered at that--clearly a case of youthful infatuation, way too young to be permanent, and yet the way she offered him her hand--and the casual assurance with which he took it, spoke of forever.
At one point she reached around and moved her phone to the other pocket of her shorts, Felt for the pocket on the right, tucked it in with assurance. Make sure not to slip. I felt that I should know why she'd done this--shifted the phone--but it became clear I had no idea--no idea at all...
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She played a song on the speaker as they walked. Sounded like his music, too. And just now, the dove, calling out somewhere nearby...
