Monday, February 20, 2006
Portland in the Gray
Today, the world is painted yet another color. A shade. This day, it is a shade of gray. The gray is so beautiful. It seems like the world has been painted a completely new color. All of the same old buildings in downtown portland seem like a different color.
Some of the architecture is hideous to me in downtown. It looks like an art/deco kitchen. Bland, boring, american... But then there are buildings like a beige painted brick building. It is a light shade of beige and as neutral as it sounds, but the grey of the early afternoon drenches it in a new perfume, a new hue, a new...
The windows have a green trim, and as I pass the west side of this interesting old building, I notice that the old putty that had worn and covered the face of the bricks was painted over as well. It looked like a map of a world long gone or yet to come.
As the bus drove in from my home in the boonies and through the city as it bridged over the 405 concrete and asphalt riverbed whose water was replaced by cars driving to destinations unknown in both directions, upstream and downsream and just as fast.
The clouds in the sky are reflected in the glass of the building as we zoom on by. It is like watching a movie. A movie about the city. A movie about life in the city.
There are many female shaped mannequins trying to sell clothes to passers by. All the mannequins are the same shape, same size...
Then there was the red brick building with cream colored pillars and decorations. Many fluffy marble feathers crowing her top. Cream colored marble vines crawling all around her beauty.
Some of the trees look like thin fingers reaching into the sky. Silvery shards of winter clinging to their beauty as the spring comes to clothe them again in yet another form of beauty, rebirth, renewwal.
Crossing the bridge, I see what I assume to be a tower that is used for training firemen. It's rectuangular tall narrow window spaces emptied of all but air. A deep black tinge with a black metal fire escape staircase leading up...or is that down?
The river, a rich indescribable green as I again come here and write to you.
Some of the architecture is hideous to me in downtown. It looks like an art/deco kitchen. Bland, boring, american... But then there are buildings like a beige painted brick building. It is a light shade of beige and as neutral as it sounds, but the grey of the early afternoon drenches it in a new perfume, a new hue, a new...
The windows have a green trim, and as I pass the west side of this interesting old building, I notice that the old putty that had worn and covered the face of the bricks was painted over as well. It looked like a map of a world long gone or yet to come.
As the bus drove in from my home in the boonies and through the city as it bridged over the 405 concrete and asphalt riverbed whose water was replaced by cars driving to destinations unknown in both directions, upstream and downsream and just as fast.
The clouds in the sky are reflected in the glass of the building as we zoom on by. It is like watching a movie. A movie about the city. A movie about life in the city.
There are many female shaped mannequins trying to sell clothes to passers by. All the mannequins are the same shape, same size...
Then there was the red brick building with cream colored pillars and decorations. Many fluffy marble feathers crowing her top. Cream colored marble vines crawling all around her beauty.
Some of the trees look like thin fingers reaching into the sky. Silvery shards of winter clinging to their beauty as the spring comes to clothe them again in yet another form of beauty, rebirth, renewwal.
Crossing the bridge, I see what I assume to be a tower that is used for training firemen. It's rectuangular tall narrow window spaces emptied of all but air. A deep black tinge with a black metal fire escape staircase leading up...or is that down?
The river, a rich indescribable green as I again come here and write to you.
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