This is #50 in a series of month-end reflections on the state of the world, and other things that come to mind, as I walk, hike, and explore in my local community.
image by AI based on the ‘word portrait’ below; my own prompt
Sometimes I try to draw a ‘portrait’ of my community, just as it is. Not as I judge it to be, with my dubious interpretations of the ‘meaning’ of people’s actions. Just writing what I see, in its entirety, uncensored, un-retouched, un-selective.
Do painters, when they make portraits, toy with the truth the same way writers seemingly can’t avoid doing? Is this why we are so fascinated by photographs, which purport to represent exactly what we see, nothing more or less?
I’m sitting in my local café, just trying to notice without attaching meaning to what I see.
Two young Korean women are talking excitedly in the café. Lots of animated, unrestrained body language and facial expressions. They’re speaking loudly, in English.
I think the above paragraph is factual. No judgement or interpretation or meaning-making. I could have said they were talking “happily”, but then I’m adding my own layer on top of what is just, apparently happening. They are smiling, so it wouldn’t be an unreasonable assumption. But still, it’s an assumption. A puppy watching them, if puppies could speak with us, would not quibble with the paragraph, but would assuredly not judge the women to be necessarily happy, as human observers would be inclined to do. And the AI image the word prompt produced, above, is eerily close to what I am observing at this moment.
It’s quite a performance. I find it hard to resist watching them. It’s like watching theatre. Confident, seemingly-almost-rehearsed, exaggerated, demonstrative motions. The words, which I catch only intermittently over the café’s music system, don’t really matter. (A large proportion of them are the single interjection/filler word like, anyway.) The above paragraph captures, I think, more than a photograph could. More like what a video might capture, perhaps. But their actions seem larger than life, more than mere pixels could ever represent.
How would a painter portray this scene? How could she capture more than a photo could? Could she avoid adding her ‘interpretation’ of what she was watching? Would that be a good thing or a bad thing? She might use colour and framing to suggest dynamic focus and movement. Her painting might simultaneously capture several actions that actually happened separately — artistic licence. How might she draw their faces to capture something that I, a casual observer, miss? Something no camera could convey.
And of course I can’t remove you, the reader, from this ‘picture’ either. As I write, I’m making assumptions about you, like: When will this guy stop with this boring tangential stuff and provide us with some heartwarming anecdotes showing the humanity of his community, and bring a smile to our face or a tear to our eye? Entertain us, Mr Pollard!
I don’t suppose you’ll buy my ‘no-free-will’ argument. Not again.
If I were to draw some more unembellished ‘word portraits’ about what it’s like here, now, on a chilly January west-coast winter day, they might include:
Four grizzled-looking men of mixed ages are sitting together, smoking, and drinking from a shared thermos, in a small clearing at the picturesque intersection of two walking paths by the river. They’re wearing threadbare coats, some cloth, some ‘puffy’, against the 5ºC weather. They smile (a bit inauthentically, or apologetically?) as a woman walking a small dog passes by, and again as I pass by.
Damn it’s hard to avoid adding ‘interpretation’. Words are so f*&$% lame!
At the edge of the kids’ play area in the local park, two parents reach down and zip/velcro up their impatient kids’ winter coats. The kids race off toward the swings and, laughing, grab the last two unoccupied ones. The boy has already unzipped and tossed his coat aside. The parents stand nearby, gloved and scarved, rocking back and forth. ‘Mom’ wears a grim smile and raised eyebrows.
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In the mall, a teenaged girl takes the hand of the boy walking beside her. He shakes it off. She stops walking. He stops walking. They exchange words. He shrugs. She walks around behind him and puts her arms around him from behind, whispering in his ear. Then she walks around beside him and offers her hand. He takes it, and they continue on their way.
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Walking back from the mall, I see one of the community’s ‘regulars’, to whom I often give small amounts of money, sitting on the cold cement outside the Walmart with his cardboard sign lamenting his illness and poverty. He is being pressed to ‘move on’ by the security guard. Two women are shouting at the security guard, insisting the homeless guy’s not hassling customers, or trespassing, and hasn’t the guard something better to do with his time? The guard responds that after ‘three warnings’ the Walmart boss told him to call the cops if he shows up again. When the women threaten to complain to management or even organize a boycott of the store, the guard asks them to please not do that (he clearly can’t afford to lose this miserable job) and to try to understand his position. The women tell the guard that he should try to understand the homeless guy’s position.
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Later that day, I am taking the pre-sorted garbage down from my apartment to the basement garbage room. A woman gets on at a lower floor, likewise laden with bags full of garbage and recycling. She nods and smiles. I comment “It’s like an obstacle course, isn’t it, navigating the heavy card-controlled security doors with your arms full? Not fun!” She replies: “I don’t know. Anything can be fun. It’s all about what you make of it.” She laughs as she exits the elevator.
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And my favourite from the past month:
I’m walking outside the mall in an area set up with ping pong tables (usually in use even in the coldest weather) that, in the summer, features a DJ, foosball, and organized games with prizes. In January, it’s empty except for ping pong players and people entering and leaving the mall. There’s a woman walking with two little girls, one on either side of her, both of them wearing wireless earbuds. Suddenly, the girls break stride and call for the woman to stop. Then, they do a synchronized clap, eight times, and then break into a line dance! Several people (including me) stop to watch. They continue, completely in step with each other (I later found out you can sync bluetooth signals to be heard by more than one listener at the same time). The dance continues for probably a couple of minutes. Then they stop, and announce to the woman “Canadian Stomp!“. Applause from the woman and the small audience. Bows from the girls. The woman replies “Why’s it called the Canadian Stomp?” to which one of the girls replies: “Shania Twain, duh!”.
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That’s what seems to be happening here, now, anyway.
