Gore and Cordova, Morning, September 9th, 2016

Gore and Cordova
Morning
September 9, 2016
copyright Karin Konoval 2016

final draft text for 14 canvases, each 8 x 8 inches, acrylic on canvas

one

A man toting a bright orange sleeping bag crosses from west to east, passing a woman in a housedress printed with bright orange poppies. She talks on her cellphone.

The man who was organizing his coolers and golf clubs a week ago, taking up the whole sidewalk, this morning argues with a woman who wears a gold crown. She watches, hands on hips, as he tries to stuff four large tattered suitcases into a shopping cart.

Across the street, two men in baseball caps climb the stairs of the church and sit down together.

two

The woman in the housedress returns, a white envelope in her fingers. She fans her face with it, thoughtful. A man pushes his bicycle past her, four crumpled beer cans in his bike basket.

Three young women wearing head-to-toe black cross north. Three young men wearing head-to-toe black cross south. In the middle of the crosswalk they all stop to hug each other.

A man on the corner discusses something with himself. When the light changes he steps out, arms over his head, and pirouettes pirouettes pirouettes slowly across the street.

three

A tiny woman wearing a man’s fedora and otherwise all polka dots, white on blue, races to catch the light. She bounces her shopping cart in front of herself as if urging on a horse.

Two tall men, tattooed and striding with their skateboards under their arms, part for her to pass.

An old man comes limping. When the light turns red against him, he rushes into the street and walks easily across. Cars stop for him. On the other side he slows and resumes his limp.

A woman pushing a large stroller with a collie dog riding in it stops to observe him. The collie pants in the stroller.

four

The baseball cap men still sit at the top of the church steps.

A man with his body curved backwards, hips thrust forward and gyrating like a hula dancer, crosses east to west. He runs into a man on the corner whose body is curved the opposite extreme forward, so much so that his steps land as footfalls, catching him from falling on his face.

A street cleaner in an orange vest explains something to a man with a backpack, waving his rake in the air to make a point.

five

A third man joins the men on the church steps. They all wear black shirts with different coloured sleeves. The first two men, red and blue. The third man, purple.

A woman with two purses crosses north to south. The bigger purse hangs from her shoulder, the smaller she swings back and forth as if signalling traffic, and steps oh so carefully in stiletto heels. The men on the church steps watch her go.

A woman carries a bag that reads in bright pink letters, “I Make Wishes Happen.” She holds a thick bunch of Starbucks napkins over her face.

six

The men still sit at the top of the church steps. An older fellow with yellowing beard sits down at the bottom. He reaches out to passersby.

Kitty corner, a second older man with beard stops stock still. Suddenly he bends in half, his body an upside down “L” over a suitcase. He folds his hands in prayer on the handle, closes his eyes. He prays aloud briefly then jolts upright, lifts his suitcase into the air and goosesteps across the street. A woman passes him, an enormous turquoise plastic tub at her side.

As she walks she turns it in her fingers, like a wheel.

seven

The men at the top of the church steps get up and leave. The old man at the foot of the steps pulls a beer from his jacket. A man struggling to carry a double bass passes one way in front of him. Two women in identical Mickey Mouse sweatshirts, pulling identical lime green suitcases, pass the other way. A man carrying three guitars hurries to catch up to the man with the double bass. The old man drinks his beer.

Four people, each in varying shades of pink, cross all four ways of the intersection at exactly the same time. Two walk with the light, two walk against it. Three of them are women.

eight

A young woman all in leopard print spandex with her bra straps showing pushes her sleeping child in a stroller. She’s followed by a blonde woman in spike blonde heels, who’s followed by a tubby man wearing a big yellow floppy ladies’ sun hat. He’s followed by a young couple in black leather, arms round each other, the metal studs on their running shoes glinting in the light. Behind them comes an old man — white hat, white hair, white coat, white pants, white shoes. Behind him comes a tall man with big body builder muscles, his arms blue with tattoos.

The front of his moss green T-shirt reads: “I’m A Little Rascal.”

nine

The old man still sits at the foot of the church steps. He’s finished his beer.

A little man in a coral shirt crosses towards the church, then crosses again. He carries a golf putter over his shoulder from which he’s hung a yellow shopping bag. Green leafy things poke out of it.

A man with a black toque and long pointy black beard crosses south to north, then north to south, then south to north again. The old man on the church steps gets slowly to his feet and shuffles west.

ten

The man who pirouetted into the street is back. He doesn’t pirouette on his return journey. A man in pyjamas and sock feet appears out of nowhere. They look at each other. The pirouetting man heads east. The sock feet man heads south.

A woman in a business suit walks with a bald man carrying a watermelon. He balances it on his hand in front of himself, like an offering.

A woman in flowing black comes out of the church, props open the door and returns inside. A man in a parka eating a banana stops to watch her, then heads north.

eleven

The noon horn sounds. A grey-haired woman goes into the church. A woman in purple, tilted almost sideways, weaves past with her coat flying. The man who went one way eating a banana comes back eating another.

A man in red fleece and black bow tie pushes his wheeled cart straight across the middle of the intersection, stopping traffic. At the corner he pauses to study a woman with a stuffed orange tiger on her back. He reaches out to pet the tiger, but the woman moves on.

No one else has gone into the church.

twelve

A man in a wheelchair pulls himself along with his feet, step-stepping quick like a Flintstones cartoon, hands in his lap. A “Dim Sum Express” truck turns east, barely missing him.

A man carrying a yellow milk crate rides a skateboard up the yellow line in the middle of the street, crosses with the light, rides down the yellow line on the other side of the street.

A woman pushing a stroller full of junk, her face deep red with anger, shouts at the world. A woman in a deep red hat stares at her. A red cement truck turns south.

thirteen

No one sits on the steps of the church. Two crows land. One of them hops down to where the old man was drinking a beer and pecks around where he was sitting.

Two women, both with bright blue scarves flying, approach the corner. They point this way, that way, this way, not agreeing. A man pauses behind them to light a smoke, then opens his pants to take a leak. He changes his mind, zips up and walks south. The women keep arguing.

The grey-haired woman who went into the church an hour ago comes out and heads south too.

fourteen

The woman in flowing black who came out to open the church door earlier comes out wearing white robes over black and closes the door.

A man wearing boxing gloves crosses from south to north, calm and determined. He passes a man who looks like Charlie Chaplin, but in beige. Hair parted down the middle, tiny moustache, stepping elegantly with his cane.

The man who hung groceries from a golf putter over his shoulder returns. He’s collected three more yellow bags with green things poking out. As he shuffles along he mouths to himself: “Home.”