Mary Panttaja

Yesterday morning I headed out of our hotel in downtown Seattle to hit the street and head down to the harbor. Having been writing for a few hours, I kept noticing things I wanted to note down—will have to get some technology working to help me out in these situations.

Some of what I noticed:

• A young woman was settling herself in front of Barneys New York. She was striking with her very delicate skin, pale red rastafarian-like hair (not unlike my granddaughter’s). She was having a gentle moment with her dog, comforting him, settling him in on his cushion next to her. She spread her blanket and sat carefully. She began to unpack her violin and I saw the glimmer of a silver flute. Everything arranged, she began to put the flute to her lips. I caught her eye as I turned back to look again.
• There was Lush—the soap store. And I had walked blocks out of my way in SF the day before to check it out. We like their hard travel shampoos and travel with them everywhere. I was hoping to find other useful travel accessories—but most of their options are a little bit extravagant for me. I remember this company from about 30 years ago—having long ago used their little round tins of solid shampoo.
• Seattle waking up is cleaner and more pristine than most cities I know. Having shuffled around San Francisco in the lunchtime crowds this week, it felt very shiney and barely used.
• An image caught my eye. A Miro-like picture framed in a window—a floating sphere, a stem, a flower, orange against cream. I notice that there is a series of them. I look again and see spring hats and flowers in a department store window. Someone with a wonderful eye has taken much care.