March 3, 2005


Sometimes I walk down the street, or am sitting at the corner doing nothing, and I see someone who is absolutely stunning. I saw two today.

I spotted the first woman while sitting on the corner at Strada. She was crossing the street, and looked like an architect type. She had a soft, aged face that was very kind. She was caucasian and I suspect to be in her late-40s. It was the lovely curl of her thin grey hair with just a little bit of color in it, in waves around her face. The cut of her clothes, the simple way she walked. The pants were just so slightly tapered black pinstripe with a little cuff that stopped just above her ankle. Her coat was a solid black felt mass from her shoulders to a little below the hip. A soft black scarf wrapped so you couldn't see her neck. She wore a pair of black-framed glasses.

The second woman I saw at the laundromat. She was an asian woman in her late-30s, I suspect, with a beige woolen short duster, collar gently draped over her shoulders and back. Her expression was defiant but elegant, like she knew something utterly. Narrow dark jeans revealing a light 1.5" cuff. Also, the skin of her ankle showed. She wore beige bowling shoes with a red stripe that wouldn't think anything of, but she was so lovely, they were wonderful. She loaded her laundry, sat on the bench, and went outside to smoke. Her hair was pulled back taughtly in a ponytail. She also wore black-framed glasses. It was something about her face, it was like it was dull but radiant, tired but thinking. She had a beautiful nose.

The last time I saw someone as stunning was in Tokyo. I was walking east toward Omotesando, a little across the street from the JR station. She was walking with a friend, but her friend paled compared to her. Maybe in her 30s. Because we walked past each other so quickly, I can only remember her from a one second glance. She had a hair pulled back, with a few wisps standing up from the back. A short, plush red wrap around her bare shoulders and arms. A thin white fabric shirt, and black draped (rayon?) fabric pants, which were wrapped perfectly right above her ankles. Simple, small, red, flat shoes.

Something about her takes your breath away, if only for a minute. Life has aged her, and, but everything about her alive-ness comes forth to the surface. You see her, and she takes you to another time, a place that is ever wiser and more beautiful than where you are today.

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