This is Not an Owl

This beautiful woman I met in Tampa exuded a sweet and open spirit. Plus, face-paint and a kitten! Sadly, I was so enamored of the kitten that I failed to catch her name.

I haven’t approached many women while collecting for this series, as I’ve said. Sometimes it’s just nerves, and once, it backfired (I think).

At a pub this weekend in LA, I said to a curvy, confident server (who was not classically pretty but beautiful in a tough, alt-girl kid of way), “You are just drop-dead sexy!” Before skittering away, she thanked me. She was clearly mortified, and maybe she should have been. Although I meant it sincerely, “sexy” is not the best way to compliment someone you don’t know, for lots of reasons.

I didn’t ask her for a photo. Dual-reinforcing mortification. But I learned a bit from that encounter.

Stay tuned, and if you like, send me your beautiful photos.

Today, I’m mixing it up a little. Take a look at this adventurous, ambitious project in progress called Perfect Stranger L.A., created by freelance journalist Caitlin M. Foyt. Her project is designed to showcase the extraordinary diversity of L.A., and it demonstrates, too, I think, the beauty of everyday people.

Perfect Stranger hasn’t been updated in a couple of months, but the archives are full of interesting people, as well as detailed stories created from interviews. I particularly liked the story of this young man.

Have you encountered a stranger with an interesting story to tell?

photo attribution: Perfect Stranger L.A.

I met John a few weeks ago in a public park overlooking a bay. We were both sitting on benches looking out over the water, but for very different reasons.

I was waiting for a museum to open. John is homeless.

I watched him for a while before I approached. The park was quiet in the early morning, and joggers and dog-walkers passed us. John hailed each person with a friendly greeting, and three different people stopped to chat with him, shaking hands or sitting on the bench next to him for a few minutes. The conversations seemed animated and genuine, and many of the passers-by obviously knew John.

When we spoke, John’s demeanor was kind. He said he enjoys speaking with people and “spreading love.” He also expressed his joy to be alive, in spite of his circumstances.

My morning in the park started as an “artist’s holiday,” one of contemplative introspection and more than a little pampering of my creative spirit. I was delighted to share in a lengthy conversation with John about religion and personal faith and humbled by the stark contrast between my level of privilege and his.

There’s a lot of complexity in this situation, a great deal more to tell than I’ve said, and I’m writing this in a rush today. But John’s philosophy of life, his existential yet faith-centered outlook, made an impression on me. He’s a beautiful person who seems to share my feelings about beauty, of the inherent worth and dignity of every person (a UU principle).

How do you feel about the differences you encounter with strangers? How does difference color your interactions?

I hope you’re enjoying these posts. I enjoy creating them, especially the discoveries that compel me to slow down and bear witness to life in the midst of my own joys and sorrows.

Meet Jim.

I met Jim outside a bail bonds shop next to the lovely little cafe I’d just exited, where I’d been enjoying a tall, cold soda after my long bike ride through an historical district. I’d seen him walk by as I sat in the cafe, and I felt prompted to approach him when I noticed him outside.

As can be seen in the photo, Jim is a snappy dresser. He was wearing all black and cowboy boots and had a glittery belt buckle with western bolo tie to match (what you can’t see is the silver, tex-mex-style band on his hat.

But what I liked most about Jim was his expressive, wrinkled face and deep ebony skin tone. I think people get so caught in up modern beauty myths revolving around youthfulness that the inherent beauty of aging faces gets overlooked. I was reminded of this recently when I saw this Annie Lebovitz portrait at an exhibit.

When I approached Jim, he was busy with a hammer and ladder outside the bail bonds shop.  I asked him what he was doing.

“Well, what does it look like I’m doing?” he replied. His voice startled me, as he sounded for all the world like John Wayne. I kid you not. It was so affecting that I wanted to keep him talking. We spoke for a few moments, during which he explained that he was repairing a sign for the shop, and he agreed to pose (somewhat dramatically) for a photo.

I’m meeting the most interesting people as I collect photos for this weekly post. I’d love to hear about your experiences and even see your photos.

Happy Tuesday!

Meet Karl.

I encountered him on a plane, during the second leg of a long trip. Just as I fastened my seatbelt, he turned to me and said, “So, you headed home?”

I’ll admit that I’d rather not talk at length with strangers, especially on planes. No escaping, no “Well, I’ve got to get going, now. Nice talking with you.” But since I started creating these posts, I’ve come to feel differently about chance meetings. Every person I experience has the potential to change my life (and some REALLY have, thankfully).

So, I gave Karl a bit of my time. In fact, we spent the entire trip, which was more than two hours, talking about where we grew up, our hobbies and personal pet peeves, and our relationships. I found myself thinking that my parents probably don’t know this much about my current life!

Eventually, the conversation turned to politics, religion and the bootstrap myth. Both Karl and I had grown up poor, but we had very different viewpoints, particularly about that troubling boogeyman called Socialism. In spite of a few tense moments when Karl looked as though he regretted striking up conversation with me, the talk was very congenial.

As the plane coasted down the runway to a perfect landing at our destination, Karl said, “It was nice to talk with you, even though we didn’t agree on everything. It’d be great if more people could talk like this. Maybe the world wouldn’t have so many problems.”

That’s when I told Karl he was beautiful.