Love sitting here, munching my fruit parts, sipping decaf, reading and watching the crazies walking the street: Nigerian touts harassing foreign tourists to check their strip-clubs, punch-permed guys with gold chains and track suits, big-haired, low-necklined hostesses shuffling to work in super heels, b-boys with baggy jeans and bad hats askew, teenagers doing their best to delay the inevitable walk home, Chinese hookers and Russian dancers and Korean businessman and buzz-cut soldiers seeking dollar-bees and girls who need a place to spend the night...
... In everything that can be called art there is a quality of redemption. It may be pure tragedy, if it is high tragedy, and it may be pity and irony, and it may be the raucous laughter of the strong man. But down these mean streets a man must go who is not himself mean, who is neither tarnished nor afraid.
ReplyDeleteAlso, I <3 that chair. I'm a country girl through and through. I will always choose open, green spaces (if it's available) over cities, but I admit that there's something beautiful and intriguing in the chaos of city life.
ReplyDeleteI don't do green. Concrete and glass and steel for me. Nothing finer than finding a comfy corner from which to swivel-head the masses.
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