Welcome to my scrapbook. I’ve found many benefits from writing this blog on a more-or-less daily basis, and one of them is the memories I press between its virtual pages. Without this blog I might not remember some of the marvelous things I’ve seen in the ever wondrous city of Seattle.
Walking over to my inexpensive treat of chips and salsa—thank you Tacos Guaymas!—I saw a room full of hairdresser’s heads behind one of the nightclubs where the drag queens dance. Ah, what juxtaposition—these fabulous plastic heads of hair all waiting to be fussed with next to a place where some partygoers take their own fabulous and fussy hair out on the town.
Earlier I’d seen an elaborate columned archway entering into a building which seems abandoned. Ornate iron grillwork hangs above this fancy entrance. The whole thing is blocked off by fencing. I think back to when I read The Secret Garden and imagine the unseen fineries within. Does dust settle on an inlaid marble floor? Is an aging crystal chandelier a roost for pigeons which have somehow made their homes inside the building? I like to think that someone gets to dance there amidst the neglected splendor.
As I ponder this manmade beauty I also think back to today’s encounter with nature. I had just entered a downtown bank and was waiting in the seating area to ask some questions. I heard some rustling by my left ear and looked to see an enormous insect on my shoulder. I took off my jacket as quickly as I could. I didn’t know what this thing was, but it was about four inches long—no kidding!—zebra-striped and patterned, and it had feelers which were waving about. It looked like an escapee from a tropical bug exhibit. The bank employees had never seen anything like it, and we carefully escorted it to the sidewalk before doing business. I wonder who else will meet this creature today.
I love to collect these written mementos, because Seattle is constantly evolving. I love the evanescent glory of it all. Tomorrow will bring some new delight and I’ll be ready for it. Meanwhile the beetles, beehives and buzz cuts will rest in this scrapbook, untouched by the passage of time or the fresh swipe of an apprentice’s scissors.
Your assignment, should you choose to accept it:
144. How do you remember the nifty things that happen in your life? Experiment with a new method.