I found my mind unfolding like the fog, slowly but persistently. Gone was the constant chatter of my busy home community. Just me, my thoughts and the city noises. I read, watched movies, painted and walked. Marveling at the variety of people, languages, architecture and the blatant contrasts.
I walked by a homeless man almost everyday asleep on the same piece of concrete. At first I was worried he might be dead because he hadn't seem to move at all from day one to day two. The next time I past he had changed positions. Good, I thought, not dead. My walk led me to a coffee shop where I ordered my triple shot latté in a glass mug and sat outside people watching, sketching and reading. I overheard two men in their twenties or early thirties negotiating a business deal for 10,000,000 euros. I sketched the tree in front of me which was all bare except for a sparce sprinkling of leaves high up, which resembled Christmas ornaments. I studied the men and women's style. Heard work chit chat and the confused outbursts of a man who was speaking to an invisible audience. Walked back to the apartment and pasted again the sleeping lump of jackets, blankets and man.
It made me wonder how children perceive the dicotomies in the city. How do they take in the homeless man and towering buildings or the fancy cars and people talking into the air? I am sure their response is partly formed by where their own life is coming from; a needy home, visiting the city from the country, being walked by their nanny or an exciting outing with a grandparent. How do we begin a conversation with a child about all of it? How do we begin the conversation with ourselves?
Back at the apartment, I found I'm very comfortable with quiet. It was really fun to paint and allow it to go for several days and complete the painting. Lovely. I took it all in. The beautiful things along with the pain. It all became a part of me. The Bridge was the constant. Even when it was unseen by the fog, it was still there and would inevitably reappear. No major "a ha" moments in my time away, just a time of taking in, which in my life of giving to a large family was really beautiful.
I'm finding my constants, like the bridge, and allowing my thoughts to wash over them, holding onto those which prove true to me.







