", things you notice, and what you think about "

I notice the faces of old people. Old men, who I see walking along the shoulder of the road beneath cone-shaped hats. Hats similar to, but smaller than, the hats I picture atop Southeast Asians stooping in rice fields. Sometimes these old men carry small bundles, not unlike the stereotypical bag-on-a-stick-over-the-shoulder, and if there's no indication that they have just come from somewhere or are on their way to a particular destination, I like to imagine that they're constant travelers, wandering the roads of Burkina Faso - roads only recently paved in their memories - living off of ancient wisdom in the form of punch-line proverbs and the generosity of strangers.

Or the faces of elderly women working in the sun. Yesterday I passed a magnificently old woman who was pushing a wheelbarrow down the street. When I see scenes like that I always wonder: does she have a family that she is working to support? Has she spent 80% of her life working for the welfare of grandparents and then parents and then children and grandchildren and finally great-grandchildren? Or must she work because there is no family, no one left to support her? Perhaps the contents of the wheelbarrow might have offered a clue as to which is the case, but I didn't take note of what was in the wheelbarrow - my eyes couldn't leave her face. I only remember it as a wheelbarrow full of the color green. I think of colors as weightless. I hope for her sake that this was the case.

Virginia told me that she likes the faces of the elderly because of how much character they show. I think of literary theory and discussions of how meanings and characters (as understood by the reader) are created as much by the the reader as by the author, and I wonder whether, in reading faces, the character is placed there as much by the viewer as by the face being read. In seeing an old face, a face folded by years of smiles and sunlight and winces of pain, I know that I'm seeing a person who has lived through a lot. I think this allows one's imagination more room in which to work when recreating their lives, and telling the stories hidden deep in the wrinkles.

.... So anyway, I think I'm saying I might have a bias in favor of the elderly when it comes to making assumptions about a person's character. So if you're old, good news! I think you're great! Conversely, if I think you're great, good news! I probably I think you're old.


p.s.

Dear Mom and Dad,
I love you SO MUCH! You're the greatest.

Blake