Going to Market: Mosaic
It is Wednesday afternoon and I take to my lunch hour ravenously. It is not because I plan to eat, but because I need the outdoors. I am shackled to my desk since 8 a.m. and I know it is a gorgeous day out. I want to take advantage of summer’s remaining golden days before the landscape becomes frigid from winter’s ugly frost.
The elevator can’t reach the street fast enough for me. I hit the pavement and make my way to Union Square. I feel like people watching today and that is the best place to do it. While I am watching, I’ll get some exercise walking around. It’s a farmer’s market day and a beautiful one to boot, so I am bound to see merchants, farmers and vendors of all kinds circling the perimeter of the park.
I make my way, quickly at first, through the crowds of tourists, students and business folks. There is excitement, calmness, and madness all around. These elements are weaving into each other making seamless blankets of chaotic city living. There is so much to see here! Students are lounging on the grassy patches of the park shaded by tall, burly oaks that stand proudly. The trees will soon lose their leafy layers to winter’s wrath and stand naked and dormant until next year’s first light of spring. The students read or talk. Some of them sleep. It is the early days of a new semester and some are still adjusting to the routine of scheduling every hour around their studies. Memories of long summer days spent sleeping, swimming at the beaches and playing at the parks, or hanging out with friends or traveling, these are now fading into the background of their lives.
A glint in the bright sunshine catches my eye and immediately my path changes. I love these times when I can be completely aimless, when there is no plan to follow, no set destination, no to-do list in sight. I head toward a small vendor, where a scruffy man is peddling his wares. On his fold-down table are refrigerator magnets for sale. Hundreds of them line his space. Some have funny sayings; others show iconic figures, vintage movie posters, or recognizable scenes from old Americana. There is “I Love Lucy” and not three magnets to the left of Lucy is my darling Elvis in his perfect “Jailhouse Rock” physique. Some magnets hint at morbid themes, but I don’t look at those. I look up and the scruffy man smiles at me, as I move on.
Barack Obama has many fans in Union Square. Not less than ten vendors use their small space to hawk Obama in books, on T-Shirts and posters, on buttons and flags. His face is painted on, drawn on, screened on all of these. People are gathering. This man has a following.
There is a woman with dark leathery skin I notice next. She looks like she has been doing this kind of outdoor work forever. She is clothed in a robe-like dress made of something that resembles burlap. Both her wrists have bracelets of gold, silver, rope and plastic. Around her neck are countless chains and charms. There are crosses and pieces of jade on her chains. Her hair seems fried by too much sun and too much abuse. She is reading Tolstoy. She is ignoring the passers-by, hoping the intriguing orange glow of her rock salt lights sell themselves.
There is a kid, not quite a teenager, but too old to be called a boy, trying to balance on his skateboard. He concentrates and disregards the people that must walk around him, as he occupies the space used by pedestrians. I notice a police officer watching him with hooded eyes, debating if she should walk over and ask him to stop and move elsewhere. She doesn’t. She walks away.
Every kind of creativity can be found for sale here. One man will sell you organic bread and another will sit on an upturned plastic tub, peeling carrots and potatoes by the dozens all day, demonstrating a piece of cutlery you just cannot live without. One woman makes beautiful ceramic, another beaded jewelry and still another will sell you small clothes dolls – the kind that little girls today would scoff at, if they got one as a gift.
Young trendy artists in their hip and careless attire occupy the next couple of rows, all with their lovely creations out on display. Some sell gorgeously intriguing photographs framed simply in cardboard mats; others sit in the sun and paint out in the open to showcase their skills and maybe sell one painting all day. Some get creative with their art combining every-day elements like wood, foam and plastic and incorporating them into paintings of the Brooklyn Bridge, a Harlem nightclub, the Empire State Building and the lost World Trade Center. Just when you think they can’t get any cleverer, someone will shock you with their unique interpretation on canvas, wood, or the banged out metal displays for sale.
I feel full of life, happy, and content on this day. I am taking advantage of my place on this planet, fully understanding that someone on the other side of the world would have to travel many miles to see what I take for granted on most days.
A woman on the next table calls over to me, “$5, just $5,” she says to me of her Tarot readings. I smile politely and wave my hand no and move on. Sure, I’d love to know the future, but surprises are always more fun.
Some sort of big thing is happening here today. A huge white tent is going up and security is surrounding it. I don’t even care what it is; I just know it’s bringing more curiosity from the many visitors today. They hide whatever is inside from the onlookers by putting up wood screens with black paint on them. I just walks its periphery and without trying, I find a sign that says it is some sort of annual Harvest Wine tasting event.
I reach the area where the farmers are busy conducting business. Their bountiful harvest is a mosaic of beautiful colors, invitingly enticing for all to see. It almost makes me want to sample the lovely food of the earth…Almost! Fall’s best features are on display, boasting their beauty in the cooled, white sunlight. Rippled yellow squash, bright orange pumpkin, grassy green zucchini, and mountains of corn on the cob, still in the husks line the square. In another part, flowers in colors so rich and vibrant, you think they can’t possibly be real and someone deliberately colored them so stunningly. The vendors proudly display maps of where their farms are located. Some maps are hand drawn with the you-are-here-arrow pinpointing their piece of earth. It’s as if they collectively announce they are “fresh, locally grown produce farmers!” and they want us to buy from them. Whenever they are out there, there is a sense of urgency about them. It is like they want to part with their fruits and vegetables, their home made cider and all else they can, while the colors still reflect vibrancy and healthfulness.
Someone’s found a clever way to safeguard a bicycle. They have removed the front tire and tacked it on to the front and then they have hauled the whole bike high onto a chain link fence and secured it there with a coated lock and chain. People here are creative in so many ways!
Ugh! I can’t believe my time is almost up! Every time I have to go back to work, I wonder why I am not rich, so that I don't have to go back at all! It looks like I let all my time pass unnoticed and now I must race back. It was fun while it lasted! Next week, if summer still lingers, I will come back. I want to be a part of this all over again!
The elevator can’t reach the street fast enough for me. I hit the pavement and make my way to Union Square. I feel like people watching today and that is the best place to do it. While I am watching, I’ll get some exercise walking around. It’s a farmer’s market day and a beautiful one to boot, so I am bound to see merchants, farmers and vendors of all kinds circling the perimeter of the park.
I make my way, quickly at first, through the crowds of tourists, students and business folks. There is excitement, calmness, and madness all around. These elements are weaving into each other making seamless blankets of chaotic city living. There is so much to see here! Students are lounging on the grassy patches of the park shaded by tall, burly oaks that stand proudly. The trees will soon lose their leafy layers to winter’s wrath and stand naked and dormant until next year’s first light of spring. The students read or talk. Some of them sleep. It is the early days of a new semester and some are still adjusting to the routine of scheduling every hour around their studies. Memories of long summer days spent sleeping, swimming at the beaches and playing at the parks, or hanging out with friends or traveling, these are now fading into the background of their lives.
A glint in the bright sunshine catches my eye and immediately my path changes. I love these times when I can be completely aimless, when there is no plan to follow, no set destination, no to-do list in sight. I head toward a small vendor, where a scruffy man is peddling his wares. On his fold-down table are refrigerator magnets for sale. Hundreds of them line his space. Some have funny sayings; others show iconic figures, vintage movie posters, or recognizable scenes from old Americana. There is “I Love Lucy” and not three magnets to the left of Lucy is my darling Elvis in his perfect “Jailhouse Rock” physique. Some magnets hint at morbid themes, but I don’t look at those. I look up and the scruffy man smiles at me, as I move on.
Barack Obama has many fans in Union Square. Not less than ten vendors use their small space to hawk Obama in books, on T-Shirts and posters, on buttons and flags. His face is painted on, drawn on, screened on all of these. People are gathering. This man has a following.
There is a woman with dark leathery skin I notice next. She looks like she has been doing this kind of outdoor work forever. She is clothed in a robe-like dress made of something that resembles burlap. Both her wrists have bracelets of gold, silver, rope and plastic. Around her neck are countless chains and charms. There are crosses and pieces of jade on her chains. Her hair seems fried by too much sun and too much abuse. She is reading Tolstoy. She is ignoring the passers-by, hoping the intriguing orange glow of her rock salt lights sell themselves.
There is a kid, not quite a teenager, but too old to be called a boy, trying to balance on his skateboard. He concentrates and disregards the people that must walk around him, as he occupies the space used by pedestrians. I notice a police officer watching him with hooded eyes, debating if she should walk over and ask him to stop and move elsewhere. She doesn’t. She walks away.
Every kind of creativity can be found for sale here. One man will sell you organic bread and another will sit on an upturned plastic tub, peeling carrots and potatoes by the dozens all day, demonstrating a piece of cutlery you just cannot live without. One woman makes beautiful ceramic, another beaded jewelry and still another will sell you small clothes dolls – the kind that little girls today would scoff at, if they got one as a gift.
Young trendy artists in their hip and careless attire occupy the next couple of rows, all with their lovely creations out on display. Some sell gorgeously intriguing photographs framed simply in cardboard mats; others sit in the sun and paint out in the open to showcase their skills and maybe sell one painting all day. Some get creative with their art combining every-day elements like wood, foam and plastic and incorporating them into paintings of the Brooklyn Bridge, a Harlem nightclub, the Empire State Building and the lost World Trade Center. Just when you think they can’t get any cleverer, someone will shock you with their unique interpretation on canvas, wood, or the banged out metal displays for sale.
I feel full of life, happy, and content on this day. I am taking advantage of my place on this planet, fully understanding that someone on the other side of the world would have to travel many miles to see what I take for granted on most days.
A woman on the next table calls over to me, “$5, just $5,” she says to me of her Tarot readings. I smile politely and wave my hand no and move on. Sure, I’d love to know the future, but surprises are always more fun.
Some sort of big thing is happening here today. A huge white tent is going up and security is surrounding it. I don’t even care what it is; I just know it’s bringing more curiosity from the many visitors today. They hide whatever is inside from the onlookers by putting up wood screens with black paint on them. I just walks its periphery and without trying, I find a sign that says it is some sort of annual Harvest Wine tasting event.
I reach the area where the farmers are busy conducting business. Their bountiful harvest is a mosaic of beautiful colors, invitingly enticing for all to see. It almost makes me want to sample the lovely food of the earth…Almost! Fall’s best features are on display, boasting their beauty in the cooled, white sunlight. Rippled yellow squash, bright orange pumpkin, grassy green zucchini, and mountains of corn on the cob, still in the husks line the square. In another part, flowers in colors so rich and vibrant, you think they can’t possibly be real and someone deliberately colored them so stunningly. The vendors proudly display maps of where their farms are located. Some maps are hand drawn with the you-are-here-arrow pinpointing their piece of earth. It’s as if they collectively announce they are “fresh, locally grown produce farmers!” and they want us to buy from them. Whenever they are out there, there is a sense of urgency about them. It is like they want to part with their fruits and vegetables, their home made cider and all else they can, while the colors still reflect vibrancy and healthfulness.
Someone’s found a clever way to safeguard a bicycle. They have removed the front tire and tacked it on to the front and then they have hauled the whole bike high onto a chain link fence and secured it there with a coated lock and chain. People here are creative in so many ways!
Ugh! I can’t believe my time is almost up! Every time I have to go back to work, I wonder why I am not rich, so that I don't have to go back at all! It looks like I let all my time pass unnoticed and now I must race back. It was fun while it lasted! Next week, if summer still lingers, I will come back. I want to be a part of this all over again!
Comments