Here I am again at silly o clock, a rerun of 90120 is flickering on the screen perhaps it’s the sheer banality of the programme that has driven me to write in the witching hour.
Anyhow as always I’m thinking about the human condition and how we interact with one another, it appears that this is indeed a small world with hardly enough room for all the ego’s and opinions that abound.
As someone who is a chronic people watcher, the scenes that pass before me when people think they aren’t being watched can reveal so much about them, it’s like the mask drops for a moment and you see them stripped bare, though it can be painful to watch and I often wonder what people see in me when caught unawares.
I like interaction and feel that I’m open with people I know well and with new people, everybody starts with a new page and as I get to know them it’s like painting a canvass and over time I sketch and fill in , shade, retouch somethings often left in the shadows not ready to be revealed yet, but it takes time to finish the end product if ever and that’s the fun part.
I’ve also come across many that have the Dorian Grey aspect about them, and that’s harder to penetrate, I don’t like manipulators or those that constantly call out others for hypocrisies when they embody the very same aspects about their personalities, but constantly deflect onto others, this is a canvass that can only truly grow old in an attic.
This brings me to those that constantly switch allegiances, they are more abstract so much harder to capture, exotic in their vibrancy of colour always pulling people to their flame, but hard to pinpoint the chameleon aspect ever-present.
Then there are the water colours, soft and when held to the light their colours like a kaleidoscope, the light hitting the spot here and there forever pleasing and safe, but with a quiet compassion, dignity and strength.
There is also those drawn in charcoal hard edges dark, enigmatic, their integrity is their power which draws you to them you want to believe, but their gentleness is seen in their eyes their tolerance in their gestures and they way they treat others, their honesty about who they are.
Rarely have I come a cross a blank canvass, except those I think of as sculptors strong curves as the stone is carved into shapes coolly appraising, but there’s warmth and character hidden there a simplicity, but with depth and trust someone who’s always there for you.
How do you look at the people you meet.
My late night/early morning ramblings have made me fanciful.