resonant conversations
Today, I went down to Eastern Market with some friends, just for an opportunity to socialize. While I was the slowpoke who barely made it down to grace their presence, I did get to walk around with them for a few moments before they departed back for the 'burbs of Virginia. Then, as I made my way back toward my car, I decided to browse through some of the artisans' tents and make the best of my few hours out of the house, since I had been stuck inside it sick for almost two weeks now. As I browsed through jewelry, clothing, and art, I appreciated the work that went into each piece.
Moe than the handiwork, though, some artisans took the time to connect with the people browsing in their space. Beginning questions of their work turned into deeper questions on life and passion. One painter, a man originally from northeastern Tennessee, painted vivid scenes of D.C. neighborhoods. We talked about the South, and about the small neighborhoods from which we came, and how they differed from the life and speed of the world of D.C. And people say there are no southerners here…
Another vendor, a printmaker, who originally hailed from Russia, picked up on my accent and asked me about it. I told him that I was from Alabama, and he began asking me how the state felt about politics, democracy, and Obama. He moved from Russia straight to D.C. just a few years ago. He explained that he had such a difficult time understanding how some regions could have such a political stronghold and not be swayed. However, I told him that he couldn't simply single out the South in his judgments about political strongholds. He asked about racism, and I again told him that the South alone was not guilty in the stereotypes. I explained to him that the racism that exists continues because it is often passed down through families, and it is more than just black and white. I told him that it is a problem that is more than just a recent occurence. He asked very innocently about how the country can begin to move beyond racism and coexist peacefully. I told him that to me, love is the only way that I know how. He thanked me for my answers, and gave me a small traditional Russian Orthodox print in appreciation for spending time with him.
A few moments later, I went and stopped by another vendor of an artist who painted abstracts of D.C. The artist's girlfriend was in the booth. I saw a painting that I loved, and decided that I wanted it for myself, because I couldn't turn it down. Also, because while I was in the booth and talking with her for a few moments, I noticed her book about linguistics and asked her if she was in school. She is currently working on her Ph.D. We began discussing grad school, and I told her of my hopes to study history and write a specific local history of D.C. When I told her that, she slashed the price of the piece I told her I was buying. But, her conversation about her experiences in grad school and how she has enjoyed studying and research will stick with me. And, I'll enjoy the great print that I didn't have to haggle, and it already has a perfect place on my wall.
All of these conversations help me to realize that it's such an amazingly strange and beautiful world, full of wonder, and full of confusion. I like the thought that each day, we are all a piece of each person's puzzle. And each person today fit perfectly into my puzzle. Every conversation helped me to reaffirm who I am, who I want to be, and who I have always been. Everyone has a story… and everyone's stories are intertwined. It's one of the essential tools I carry as a southerner: storytelling (and storygathering). I wish I was better at storytelling most of the time. But, I love listening to the stories of people and where they have been and what people have done. And without people to make conversation, with whom can we share our stories?
There's a song from Brandi Carlile, called "The Story," that has the most incredible lyrics that fit right into my day:
All of these lines across my face
Tell you the story of who I am
So many stories of where I've been
And how I got to where I am
But these stories don't mean anything
When you've got no one to tell them to.
There is so much more that I don't know out in the world, and I need some of these resonant conversations in order to gain insight into my own soul, and to motivate me toward my own personal greatness (which, isn't to say that it's all that great, but it's a personal best). I definitely cherish many conversations that I have, and log them away into the depths of my soul. They help me become more alive than I could ever imagined.
