Art therapy.

Felt kinda lousy after work, but it wasn’t too cold, so I decided to walk a bit. I have some chronic health problems, and I don’t always feel that great. Pulling out a camera and taking some pictures usually helps me feel better. Maybe that’s not exactly right. It takes my mind off my health, so the end result is the same. Also takes my mind off of some non-physical problems, and when it involves walking around late on a winter weeknight, often those problems fall into place, below more important things. Perspective.
The signs in Chinatown step forward at night. Signs that sell things I can’t read for $28 and up. Signs for second floor hotels. For food. There are all kinds of dark alleys that I headed into without fear, for I noticed a man keep an eye on his car when I came into his view. I was led around by signs until I turned toward the wind, and started to lose feeling in my hands.
Feeling much better, and colder, I walked back past a couple of bridges to say hi to Becca. The gates were down, well before the 2am closing time stated on the window. I could peek through a narrow gap in the drawn shades, and witness my friend nodding in agreement with a statement I couldn’t hear, then sip from a white paper cup through a straw. A few feet away, but completely out of reach. I didn’t want to cause trouble by banging on a door or window. There’s no way to calmly and discretely bang on the window of a bar that has its gates down. I didn’t see her car as I made my way home.