Friday, November 10 (on my way to Studio of Her Own)

• The elderly woman in the dusky pink jacket under the maroon awning of Neeman. In the later afternoon sun, her jacket was streaked hot pink.
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• The long row of waving pussy-willows, glowing like  a pinky-ochre sea in the late sun. 

• The two faded maroon towels,hanging from second floor balcony. Peaking between them is an aqua towel that perfectly echoes the platic blue laundry clips.
  I get ready to photograph it, and a drunk rises from where he was lying on the bench and asks me for money.
• The glowing halo of the plastic shopping bag in the hand of the two shadowy figures approaching from down the path. They resolve into two old men, with round, familiar faces.
• The bright spot of the platic garbage bag by the old man sitting in the bus stop. A connecting spot between the bright green of the field, and the deep artificial yellow of the bus stop sign,