Washington Square Summer

Behind the Painting

I walked up to Washington Square Park after work and found myself in the center of New York City.

I passed the couples meeting under trees, the vendors selling trinkets from plastic tables, the bearded guy with the grey dog standing on his shoulders.

I sat down on the edge of the fountain, cool black stone on a warm summer evening, shadows on the arch and sun on the towers of Greenwich Village.

I painted to the rush of the water and the voices of the crowd and the beat of a drummer with a sampler and some guest emcees.

A guy washed his feet beside me. A light mist from cooled me down but didn’t touch my page.

A shirtless guy walked to the center of the fountain and started a workout between streams of water, handstand into handstand pushups, inverted splits, muscles rippling, cameras flashing.

One of the rappers came over. She turned her attention to the gymnastics display.

“Okay. Okay Mr. Biles. Simon Biles in the mf’in house! Simon Biles. Simon Biles!”

He performed his feats of strength as pigeons circled overhead.