It's 4:30 and I'm sitting in a laundromat on Santa Barbara's lower west side, washing a cushion and trying to think about my job. So far it hasn't worked, I've got nothing to show so far; just a few sketches, a half written write-up, and a cushion in the rinse cycle.
The weather is cloudy with a cold little wind, I love this weather and since I'm sitting near the door in a hard fiberglass chair and I can smell the wind and feel the cool air on my face and hands. It's almost a direction for my thoughts to head; away from the 2 Tv's blaring 2 different spanish talk shows and the steady hum of the driers. The wind is blowing from the West, it always does here. Bringing the smell of the sea on a good day and the sweat smell of damp earth when it rains. A plain parking lot is all I see outside of the doors, no plants except for a few stunted palm trees. At a first glance it's depressing, but it's a blank canvas for my thoughts to paint on. I'm secretly singing songs by Pink Floyd and Cibo Matto, I'm thinking about one of my friends and what she might be doing; she seemed tired but in a good mood. I wonder if she'll call me when she's done. There's this couple behind me talking in low murmurs, and every once and awhile the girl will laugh and take a step back; she's folding clothes and the guy is putting some in a drier.
I'm looking around and my pen is drawing curves on the paper, maybe one of those will be the waterline shape of the sailboat hull that I need to have a hull rendering done by next Tuesday, or maybe none will stand out and catch my eye.
My cushion is the ruler of my thoughts right now, it's done and I can finally leave the noise and go out onto the streets and wander home. Even though, i don't really want to go home, I can't walk around with a cushion in my hand all night long.
She's back again, back in my thoughts, I was looking around when the newspaper called out to me. That was it, my thoughts are all scattered and now I'm thinking about the necklace I bought her in Edinburgh less than 2 months ago during the Fringe and I know where that's leading. Well I guess I'm done now, I better get inside before people start to wonder about that weirdo with the cushion in his hand
I wonder if she'll call me?