The Right Idea

Unpainted walls reflect mood as I move through unfamiliar streets. Evidences of hard times speak through walls of gray. The untold story of better times quietly reveals itself in faded signs of past commerce on buildings long since abandoned or appropriated for lesser function. Economic depression confronts me on all sides in spite of the bright sunlit day. By contrast my own modest monetary sufficiency seems opulent.

Evidences of hard times speak through walls of gray.

As I turn the corner yet another more expansive wall comes into view. The building is still in use, although for what I am not sure, perhaps a boarding house, or maybe a local bar with living quarters in the back or upstairs. The blank rear wall is devoid of distinguishing features except for a few small windows and one sagging doorway. The height and width of the wall are what set it apart. Much taller than the surrounding single story structures and perhaps a quarter of a block wide, it is a single vertical plane of weathered wood absent of color, but revealing volumes of untold stories of struggle and pain expressed in the grayness. What lives are connected with this wall? How many times has there been joy, heartache or violence just behind it?

Read more of Only the Wall »