Seattle, Tuesday, sometime in the afternoon.
Strolling around, noticing people and alleys. The sun was shy, unsure about its own appearance. The streets of Pioneer Square were warm and the wind was cool. Tones of copper and cobalt blue were dwelling. Her lips seemed indian red against the sun and his t-shirt was an obvious school bus yellow. The city, accustomed to the bipolar temperatures and clean breeze, was captivating. Never pretentious, never too fast paced, always patient. People seemed to be taking their time, slowly finishing their double shot cappuccinos and pacing themselves to go uphill. Steady.
The kids used themselves as open and blank canvases. They walked distracted, unimpressed. They investigated their surroundings through curious eyes, telling jokes and boisterously laughing at them. The daydreaming habit of a teenager, always a bit off and out of tune with the world but aware of the changing seasons that happen within themselves.
Commuters rushed to the next ferry, anxious to get home, but with wide smiles on their faces. One of them saw me taking a picture and randomly said: “It’s a good day today, huh? The sun is shining”. The red girl, entangled in the fire escape stairs, turned heads and shift our attention. The city kept happening before our eyes. Steady.
This is what I saw.
Endless Rotation 