As I moseyed about an art gallery, I considered the paintings and how "the one" I liked at age twenty-two would have enjoyed being in my shoes. I noted which paintings I think would have been his favorite, and deliberated as to whether or not they were my favorite too.
A few blocks down I was delighted to see a shop with the same name, both first and last, of the man I dated most recently. I snapped a couple of photos, and went inside just because it had his name written all over it. It was a men's clothing shop, and although he and I had parted ways months ago, there I was, thinking of him as I meandered about the store with no intention to make any purchases.
Further down the strip, I stopped in at an architecture and design museum to browse its gift store. The only reason I was in the desert was because of my architect friend from New York. He was the one who had arranged for me to stay a couple of nights at this retreat center he had helped design and build in the 90s. The only reason I stepped foot into the museum was because his area of expertise was now of interest to me.
On my return walk to my car, I noticed a park sign that spelled out the last name of my mentor friend. Again, I took a photo, just because it reminded me of her. By that point I realized that I wasn't walking alone. No, there wasn't anyone physically standing beside me. But the influence and fingerprints of those who have walked with me previously have stayed with me.
And so has Africa. In locating the Yoga studio, where I decided to return for 7 PM candlelight yoga
To be finished...
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