Scribbling...

I got a haircut today.

...

Yeah, that's ... um ... kind of how my brain is working right now. I'm trying to string words together, but that's all I got.

Lol, alright, time for a quick character sketch! :)

There's a man that I've seen in the neighborhood twice now. I think of him as "the beautiful man", not because he's eyecandy (that's Boyfriend...;), but because he's one of those people who is beautiful on the inside and it doesn't matter what he looks like.

On the outside, the Beautiful Man is a rather grizzled type, the term "weathered" comes to mind. He appears to be in his late fifties, maybe to mid-sixties, but it's a sixties that has seen a hard life--y'know what I mean? He's of African descent, about 5'8", and wiry in build. He wears no facial hair, and a ball cap.

I first met him when I was walking home from the Boiler Room (if you go there, you should tell them you heard about them from this blog & you'll blow their minds!), I was going one way on the sidewalk & he was walking toward me whilst talking on his cell phone. When we drew about level he took his cell phone away from his face, and spoke from the diaphragm.

"Well, look at you! Beautiful lady on a beautiful day, and you are beautiful! I hope you have a great day!"

The man caught me flat-footed--what do you say to that?! I ducked my head, smiled, and stammered out a thank you and a laugh. We both walked on in our respective directions, but I glanced over my shoulder at the same time as he did & we made eye contact.

"I mean it too, you are beautiful!"

But the way he said it, he wasn't creepy or anything. He was genuine, sincere, and honest in bearing and voice. He didn't undress me with his eyes, he give me "the up-down", he spoke to my face.

It was very refreshing and kind of made my day.

I met the Beautiful Man again a day or two later. He was across the street this time, with a shopping bag over his shoulder. I almost missed him, but I glanced over and we made eye contact. His smile was sunshine and he waved "hey, look it's you!"

My reply was a laughing "I remember you!"

"How are ya?" he asked.

There followed a brief but friendly conversation, cementing him in my mind as the Beautiful Man. I would love to hear his story sometime!

Encounters like this make me love where I live all the more. At the same time, people like the Beautiful Man can be found everywhere--and where they aren't found, they can be inspired.

It's amazing, really, how just a simple conversation like that can stick with a person for ... well, forever. Think back on your life, on random encounters you've had with complete strangers in the store, in church, school, after class, at work, walking down the street. How many of these conversations encouraged you, or tore you down? How much of an impact did they make on your life? What did you do differently because of these conversations?

Personally, after meeting the Beautiful Man, I walked with my head held a little higher... But I also started thinking differently about the people around me.

One of the pieces of advice I read as a rookie stage manager was "if complements and terms of endearment don't come naturally to you, make them happen anyway". The idea was that artists tend to create better when they feel good about themselves, and something as simple as a "Hello beautiful, I love the outfit today!" can make a person feel so much more confident and creative. But the concept holds true for all people really...

How many people do I pass every day who are hovering on the edge of despair, and one word from a stranger can bring them back from the brink? More than any would be willing to admit, I'd guess. And how easy is it to show an honest admiration for them?

I used to be terribly shy and afraid of interacting with strangers. How far God has brought me--I've actually been labeled as "outgoing"--and the label fits! How weird is that? But I still want to strive to make sure every word I speak is filled with purpose and meaning.

I acted in a Beckett play once, and was very much impressed with his sparing use of words. I read the script several times and dissected every line, looking for the meaning in each word. In that research I discovered so many nuances to what he wrote--every word and pause seemed laden with meaning, I grew convinced that there was not a single extra comma in that script. Whether my assessment was correct or not, it inspired me to try to live so not a single word was wasted in my living.

Granted, this blog does seem to be the exception to that striving... I consider that rule to be applicable mostly to finished products... ;)