Kwan and Jennifer.
I didn’t see Kwan the first time I walked past him. My attention was being held hostage by a scene up ahead of a woman sitting on the sidewalk silhouetted against the early morning light that was squeezing its way through the tall buildings of Wall Street. Beneath her, the warm steam from a vent billowed up behind her outlining what looked like the shapes of matted hair, any detail of her face disappearing in the glare. It was theatre that blocked out everything else. As I walked towards her I could see and hear she was muttering to herself. Afraid of whatever mental health issue had her living here I reluctantly walked past her until the tug of “but that photo,” got the better of me. It was as I went back that I saw Kwan leaning against the silver newsstand staring at something across the road. It is not often that one photo stops you in your tracks let alone two in the space of a minute. He glowed bright, sandwiched between the sharp dark shadows of the buildings around him. I asked if I could take his photo, requesting he forget that I was there and go back to the thoughts that he was in before I interrupted. Afterward, he told me he too was a photographer. He had seen the lady sitting there as well and had wanted to take her photo. We stood there silently, staring at the scene, like two people looking at a masterpiece in a gallery.
“ I don’t have my camera on me today”, he said, “but I would have probably walked past her, I would have been too frightened to take the shot.”
“ I did walk past her!” I said.
“Sometimes it’s ok to just take the shot with your mind, knowing that you saw it is enough,” he replied.
“ No!” I said.“ I would have obsessed about not taking that photo if I didn’t!!”
We tried to swap info but he said he was currently off Instagram. I asked why and he told me that sometimes you need to take a break.
“Well, wish me luck, I’m gonna go talk to her.”
“It’s ok,” he said, “I’m here if you need me.”
Smiling I sat down near her and asked if I could take her photo, giving her what money I had in my pocket. Men and women in suits marched passed us as they hurried to work. I wondered what we must look like to them. I was on my way to a meeting and was dressed in a coat that had no business being on a Manhattan sidewalk. Asking her name I managed to make out it was Jennifer but couldn’t understand the rest of what she said. We laughed and nodded at each other like foreigners trying to communicate without a common language. After the photo I stood up and turned around to Kwan. He was still watching. We smiled and gave each other the thumbs up, bonded by a shared fleeting experience and understanding. As I walked away I mouthed thank you before re-joining the current of the rat race surging me along to my meeting.
