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My steps echo slightly down the wide and tiled hall. Mobile computing stations stand guard in front of heavy doors.

The walls are neutral pinks, eggshell or blue. No longer the traditional greens.

Landscape art satisfies like dusty wax fruit on a dinner table.

Perception is a funny thing, unique and at the same time shared. The overlap is what we agree to call reality, but the edges are frayed.

Opening the door to her room, laughter, unexpected and raucous, punctuates the quiet, and the seconds tick inevitably by.

#mymorningwalk

What did you see?

Today my path twists through several groups of men.

Men wearing safety yellow vests as they gesticulate and sigh and look about with knowing eyes;

Men wearing matching oxfords with indistinct logos, jeans, and precision cut hair;

Heavily-muscled men in a small, closed circle wearing black t-shirts, black pants, carrying belts with guns and sticks, with pockets that I envy.

None of them seem to see me.

Beyond them all, a pop-up home and refrigerator block the sidewalk. The fridge is empty, ready for the daily bread, but a cheery, disheveled face, still sleepy and slow, pokes out of the door and smiles at me.

What did you see?

#mymorningwalk

Beeps and clicks and rattles and groans

Whirrs and clacks and melodious tones
Expressions of the city accompany my step
Cage, Busoni, and Eno in le Musique concrète

What did you hear?

#mymorningwalk

7/13/17

It could be February for all the grey cool sky and bluish fog that envelops the edges of the city, but the air is still and the streets quiet.

A piebald pigeon enthusiastically tosses a small piece of bread onto the sidewalk repeatedly in an effort to get crumbs to break off it.

A few feet away, two more pigeons poke at the creamy innards of a crushed peanut butter jar and I am reminded of a performance art piece I saw years ago that ended with the artist covered in peanut butter and bird seed.

I don’t have an affinity for that sort of art, but I do like peanut butter very much.

Further on, I pass a man cradling a pipe, huddled in a marble tiled doorway.

Above him, a billboard showcasing several yellow Minions encourages everyone to "Go Back to Bad"

I walk on, and as I cross the street to the station, there’s Gru, in real life, walking next to me.

What did you see?

#mymorningwalk

A man, about 30, wearing red running shorts, a white short sleeve button down shirt and a teal tie, keeps his head down. His brow knitted together, his mouth a frown and his jaw tightly clenched. The laces of his shoes match his tie.

A woman, dressed in layers of colorful but threadbare fabric, her ruffled skirt pulled up to her knees, sits on a low wall rolling a cigarette on top of a tarot card.

Her full face is done in heavy makeup with a thick blue eyeliner and shadow, and her lips are a deep ruby red. Blush pools in the crevices of her cheeks.

Her long hair is piled on top of her head in a messy bun with at least half a dozen Chinese hair sticks poking out at random intervals.

She glances up as I pass and flashes a gap toothed grin. I wonder, if I asked, would she tell me my fortune.

What did you see?

#mymorningwalk

A slow start with seriously achy muscles leads to hectic morning made more so when I can’t find my train pass.

As I step onto the sidewalk, I transform into the lead in the Olympic Women’s Racewalking qualifying event, imagining a pack of highly trained athletes behind, pushing me toward ever faster speeds.

Mind over muscles, I tell myself, as my quads and back screech in protest.

My arms swing wildly, and I try to emulate the body form I’ve seen racewalkers take: back straight, move from the hips…I’m glad I wore my most comfortable shoes as the people and buildings blur past me.

I imagine I look quite serious and earnest, but the reality is probably probably much closer to the Monty Python sketch on Silly Walks, especially with my bright anime hair.

Door to door it’s 1.12 miles, I make it in 16 minutes and find a seat in my favorite car with minutes to spare.

That qualifies.

What did you do?

#mymorningwalk

A man, about 30, wearing red running shorts, a white short sleeve button down shirt and a teal tie, keeps his head down. His brow knitted together, his mouth a frown and his jaw tightly clenched. The laces of his shoes match his tie.

A woman, dressed in layers of colorful but threadbare fabric, her ruffled skirt pulled up to her knees, sits on a low wall rolling a cigarette on top of a tarot card.

Her full face is done in heavy makeup with a thick blue eyeliner and shadow, and her lips are a deep ruby red. Blush pools in the crevices of her cheeks.

Her long hair is piled on top of her head in a messy bun with at least half a dozen Chinese hair sticks poking out at random intervals.

She glances up as I pass and flashes a gap toothed grin. I wonder, if I asked, would she tell me my fortune.

What did you see?

#mymorningwalk

A slow start with seriously achy yoga muscles leads to hectic morning made more so when I can’t find my train pass.

As I step onto the sidewalk, I transform into the lead in the Olympic Women’s Racewalking qualifying event, imagining a pack of highly trained athletes behind, pushing me toward ever faster speeds.

Mind over muscles, I tell myself, as my quads and back screech in protest.

My arms swing wildly, and I try to emulate the body form I’ve seen racewalkers take: back straight, move from the hips…I’m glad I wore my most comfortable shoes.

I imagine I look quite serious and earnest, but the reality is probably probably much closer to the Monty Python sketch on Silly Walks, especially with my bright anime hair.

Door to door it’s 1.12 miles, I make it in 16 minutes and find a seat in my favorite car with minutes to spare.

That qualifies.

What did you do?

#mymorningwalk