I’m bouncing my way down the Terrace today, firing off photos as I go. No looking, save the surprise for when I get home. It’s from the trawling school of photography. I wanted to capture some of the people I hear talking in the street every day.
A sample:
Woman: Ken ewe teak us to ejakashin hows, in willstreet?
Cabby: Education House, Willis Street?
Woman: Yees, thetsit.
Cabby (looking heavenward): Yes.
Cabby looks at me and grins. Fortunately NewZild English is his second language. I roll my eyes. Educationistas. I don’t think I’d let them in my cab.
Walking up Boulcott Street, after lunch.
Ernest Young Man: See that’s what I used to hate about my family, they were always talking behind everyone’s backs.
Workmate (nods and look sympathetic): Yeahnah, hate that shit myself.
I don’t even slow down.
I don’t deliberately eavesdrop on conversations, I just hear strange snippets of information as I go past, and I wonder where they were heading, and where the conversation ended.
Maybe it never does.
It’s the conversational mortar that sticks the bricks of our relationships together.
Manifesto
10. Every day connect with somebody.
18. Every day express love. Some people need to hear it. Most people need to see it. Don’t take it for granted.
39. Every day trust that there is a bigger picture. You are a part of it even if you may not know what it is.
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