I was wandering the streets of Gastown waiting for the Gastown Criterium Cycling Race to begin and I sat down on a bench next to this very interesting gentleman. I said hello and we had a conversation about his life. The lines in his face told the hints of an interesting story and his words filled in the gaps. He was a folk singer, who had grown up in Montreal and made a living singing Spanish folk songs and jazz in easter Canada. One day as he was singing in a dark club in Montreal, the kind that you enter by stairs coming down from the sidewalk, he saw a woman dancing. She moved through the smokey room with a grace that bewitched him and he felt his voice reach out to meet the beauty of her movement. She danced, he sang. He sang, she danced and they seemed to rise to make the other better. Early that morning he sat down to have a drink with her and 6 months later they had moved out to Vancouver. “That’s how I got to this bench,” he said.
“Well, thats a more interesting path than most,” I replied. “Do you mind if I take your portrait? That dancer is written into the lines of your face.” He smiled and nodded.
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