Ways of Seeing
This picture was taken in central park new york in turtle pond
This picture speaks out to the world we live in today with racial profiling and the crazy thing is is that these two young boys are cousins.
“A weed is not more than a flower in disguise.” – J.R. Lowell
I’ve been weed whacking the west end, the part of town people think is trash. Only where scum and villainy lurk. Or that’s what I keep being told by friends and family. Yet my employment there has shown me otherwise. Everyday, I encounter a new individual who brightens my day, gives me a new perspective, or makes me laugh at how wacky they are. Though I might laugh at their actions, I’m not laughing at them. They probably come from a background that can be described as poor or impoverished, or maybe they don’t.
They could be that Portuguese man on Young between Ellice and Cumberland who just wants his street respected (and not trashed) who informs me that it’s lovely to see youth out cleaning up trash. Or that man who pulled over his truck on Notre Dame (in the middle of traffic) to ask me how the weed whacker works. Could be the man with a pot belly that pokes through his unbuttoned shirt with a rough shave and tie around his forehead, always holding a joint and walking the west. The man who pushed a cart down Ellice (on the road) overfilled with hallway lockers with his pants falling and butt crack peaked. The sex worker on Ellice at 8:00am chatting to the business owner across the street over top hustling cars, and heavy steel toed boots hitting the pavement.
What might appear as a weed, may really be a flower. It’s all a matter of perspective and outlook. And as I move the motorized noise maker and plastic spinner over top “weeds” on Sherbrook street, I’ll be thinking “Whens the next time I see a flower?” and turn to see a friendly face walking down the sidewalk towards me. That’s the West End I see, that’s the West End I know.
Although we are adults but we are kids in the depth of our souls. We expect christmas miracles like our children. We pationately wait and dream till the end of our life…
My grandmother passed away last year in December at the age of 94. This photo shows my grandmother greeting my rabbit Sandra after she was introduce to her. I have a very strong bond with my rabbit, and missing my grandmother makes this a very unforgettable moment that I will treasure for the rest of my life.
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