A busy Sunday morning coffee shop. I wish I were invisible so I could better speculate each person. To stand right next to them and actually hear each word - rather than my poor attempt of listen in in from afar. Whats their story? Why are they here?
I analyze their dress. This culture, this "Portlandia" 90's style that lingers and attracts and stagnates. Wool sweaters, rain boots, overalls, floral print, fuzzy hair, high waisted jeans. Make up free faces, tattooed arms (and hands, necks...) Comfortable. Flannel, Cotton, fleece. Beneath the facade smiles, I'm sure there is pain - there always is. But their people. Umbrella free on a very rainy day people. (Except for that one man in fitted jeans with his designer pursed girlfriend - the California plate must be theres.)
I just really like this place called Portland. Where bikers are peddlers not leather wearers. This place that knows good coffee and knits their own socks and have season passes to places like the zoo. Where people are comfortable with their body, in their body - maybe a little too much so. With all its obvious liberal flaws - there sure is a lot of acceptance in this little big city. I mean, people are OK with who they are and who I am, and who you are. And most even want to hear about it ... as long as your gosh darn opinion is not forced upon them.
These people here, I mean, I am one of them. I am from here, well not really but kinda. I want to be from here. I like it here. I want to be here. I feel like this Portland culture "where young people come to retire" is lazy, and perhaps that is why its so gloriously appealing. But even with the go green/organic/recycle push ... there is still a dull drum or plainness. To accept the "make up free, cozy look" ... there is a bit of sloppy too. But we don't like to tell each other when were sloppy.I just really like this place called Portland. Where bikers are peddlers not leather wearers. This place that knows good coffee and knits their own socks and have season passes to places like the zoo. Where people are comfortable with their body, in their body - maybe a little too much so. With all its obvious liberal flaws - there sure is a lot of acceptance in this little big city. I mean, people are OK with who they are and who I am, and who you are. And most even want to hear about it ... as long as your gosh darn opinion is not forced upon them.
Though there is some (beauty that is) ... I feel like the sloppy brings a void of beauty. Were created for beauty. To be beautiful. To crave it. To see it. To make it and admire it. When we purposefully chose to make our lives void of it ... were making our lives void of the essence of the King of Glory. He is here, in Portland. I see him. I see the evidence of him. I know this culture suffocates Him out. Its a massive push to rid ourselves of him ... but I won't let that stop me from experiencing Him.
