"Point of View"

Blogger's Note: Bonnie Goldberg's 'point of view" acrylic ink and watercolor crayon on canvas; 30 X 30; can be seen at Paul Sloan Interiors on Gervais Street, Columbia, South Carolina


Sometimes I see her in the park; walking with her iPod plugged into her ears. She always has a dreamy smile on her face. I wonder what she is listening to? She walks briskly, but gracefully. I wonder if she is a dancer? She walks up to a huge oak tree, reaches out to it with both hands and looks up. An apparent greeting to an old and dear friend? She gracefully bends and runs her hands through the fallen autumn leaves. She catches one in her fingers and carries it off with her.

More often than not, you can find her in the coffee shop, curled up in the over-stuffed chair in the back corner. Last week she had a copy of Emily Dickinson's collected poetry. Today she is turning the pages of Vanity Fair. Ever so often, she stops on a page and you can see her eyes dart up and down. She sips cautiously from her coffee cup. I suspect she is admiring, or disapproving, of the fashion statement of one or another celebrity. She is always smartly dressed with just enough edge that makes you think she may be a little quirky. Quirky is good. Quirky helps you survive in this often black and white world. Quirky keeps them guessing.

Last night friends and I stopped in that new pub on Main Street. It's darkly lit and hosting an up and coming local band. The music is rather loud, but out of the noise I hear a hearty, controlled laugh. When I turn, I realize it is her. She is sitting at the bar with several people; all seem so beautiful. A tall, blond, mustached man rests his hand on her shoulder. She holds a champagne flute in one hand and gestures widely with the other. They are all laughing now; sparked by her wit?

I notice that she always carries a tote and peeking from the top you can see a leather-bound journal. I think it is a journal; it could be a sketch book. And, she always as a camera; but I have never seen her take a photograph. I wonder, have I been caught in her lens at one time or another? Has she ever noticed that I show up in the same places? I wonder.

I wonder "what is her point of view"?