you know how it is in classical chinese ink paintings (and of course, i am speaking of them as a pacific islander initiated only in western art conventions as taught by my colonial masters) wherein the central image is almost inundated by extraneous inscriptions and colophons? to readers of chinese script, these colophons may rhapsodize on the virtues of the paintings, but to me, they just seem foreign and impertinent.
this afternoon, i ran into an acquaintance walking his ungainly dog. he asked me to just walk with him for a while and i, for no reason at all, agreed to. we ended up sitting in what seemed like an abandoned soccer field with a still usable two-tiered bleachers. the portly dog just heeled by its owner’s left side even if it was already unleashed. and this acquaintance started to talk about his relatives back in the old country pestering him for money, and his new lover, sort of, who, if i heard him right, only comes to his apartment during pay week. and as he talked more, the sun struck across the dark brown grass just so.