And so, without any further ado I give you Summer of 2009.
We popped out into this with the most shocking of transitions. On Memorial Day, Zoe Sarnacki, a young lady who lived just around the corner from me - directly across from the W's - was murdered - decapitated, stabbed, necrophilized and then her body set afire.
The young man suspected was caught shortly thereafter.
"Shocking" doesn't come anywhere near describing how this felt and I'll have more to say about it soon. Two nights ago, Monday, there was a candlelight vigil to mark her loss. Very intense. Very healing.
But that's how it started, like it or not.
Since then - only a week ago - I've been working pretty much every day for the last 12 days at the Orchard. This has been a lot of fun and very useful - career and knowledge-wise.
Still, taking a couple of days off is a good idea. I have a new tango to orchestrate (still have to resolve an accordion problem) but for this moment I'm at my usual Wednesday post at Mousse, chillin' and a little chill as it's just a little cool here in the shade.
I dropped my annual pledge at the Museum - not anywhere near as large as suggested but a very sincere donation nonetheless.
The bike pictured above was across the street. It looked brand new - "cherry" is the word the kids use today, I think - and it was fun to play with the camera and experiment with shots.
The Market is in full swing today. People are out and about - the great Cubano-Afro drummer Micheal Wingfield biked by, playing hooky from domesticity as I was, looking at the crowds and checking out the scene.
And, of course, there is a man making balloon animals (as well as the usual jazz band and chalumeau clarinetist).
I like it. There is the usual mix of people, children in strollers, schoolkids on field trips (since a lot of districts can't send kids to Boston they're substituting Portland).
And then there are my two new friends, Gina and Matteux (long "U").
I always notice long legs in black hose - even if they're on both partners in a straight couple - sue me - but these two, walking across the square, inured to the gawks of less enlightened shoppers, caught my eye when they suddenly raced across the bricks to the man making balloon hats, barking with delighted laughs.
THAT was cool.
So when they walked by my station on the plaza of Mousse I asked them to stop and let me snap their picks.
You can't tell - probably shouldn't have taken Gina's suggestion to stand in the Sun - but Matteux has very, very sharp canines.
God, I love this town.
So here we are again. For the first time in four dozen years I don't have an official Summer vacation. I can't say, right now, that I miss it. Perhaps if I wasn't doing such interesting work or if I didn't know such interesting people I might not be so content.
But I don't seem to miss it.
And I am content.
From the hot dog man to the friends of poor Zoe, for good or ill I'm a part of this community.
"Shakespeare In the Park" will be firing up in the next day or so. Fenix Theatre is carrying on the tradition set more than a decade ago - and all of Portland will come rolling up.
Meanwhile we'll keep meeting, dancing, singing, thinking, crying and living together, connected and blended into each other's lives.
Sometimes that thought - a connected sense of feeling, feeling a sense of connection - scares the screaming fantods out of me but sometimes that can't be helped.
We can only do or be what we are given to do or be. The rest is revealed as the game is played out.
No comments:
Post a Comment