Monday, January 10, 2011

A serving of humor, please.

This last week has been filled with more deaths and memorial services than I'd like to count. I realize that that sort of comes with the territory as we get older. When you get close to 60, with friends and acquaintances that are older, actuarial charts will tell you that that is what you should expect. But really, I am tired of these things.

That was what I was thinking last week as I was leaving a service at First African American Episcopal Church on the corner of Penn and Raymond. Beautiful church and lovely folks, but I was in a wistful state as I left the church. I was filled with a bit of a heavy heart and somber thoughts.

And then I noticed these apartments. I've driven by them several times, but you can't see their vibrancy from the street. I loved the dance of forms and colors; like examples in a geometry book that went crazy when it got the printer. The fronds of the palm trees, the tv dishes, the vertical use of cement, iron, and wood. And all of the colors playing off of and against each other. The towels waving in the wind.

Had to take the picture.

It was only as I was cropping the picture that I saw the child who seems to be staring directly at me. He hadn't been there a moment before and wasn't there a few moments later. Have to wonder what he thought of me in my respectful funeral attire with a phone up in the air probably looking as if I was pointing at nothing but air.

Thinking about how silly I might have looked to him made me laugh out loud.

Color, laughter, and silliness: the energy of life reaffirmed.

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