about the freedom which comes from just doing something and not... not sure now...

there was a slightly smelly guy on the subway today, laboring away at a rather elaborate drawing. he was humming some very odd song while drawing. i hoped that what i see is the present, not some freakish window into my future. for less than eighty bucks, the subway is a heck of a trailer that's cool in the summer and cozy in the winter. there are places that are darkish and there are places that are brightish. and always new people. the guy to whom todd always used to give a buck or two, that guy who won some hundred thousand dollars in a lottery some time ago, his jacket looked as if a swarm of bats had thrown up on it. the skin on the inside of his hand was very cold and leathery. i think he is a good guy somehow. that other man who would enter the stores shouting that he loved everyone, (not the creepy man from the subway a few weeks ago,) well, the good natured man was walking down 7th avenue the other day, holding a spanish for beginners book, learning how to say the things he wanted to say in spanish. (obviously.) so that drawing the man on the subway was working on today was really interesting. and i did not get a shot of it, i did not want him to get angry at me somehow. it was an interesting drawing. the colors were maybe not the luckiest choice (brown and green crayola and highlighter on a web of permanent ink,) but there was something interesting there. i know what was interesting. it was the fluidity and the "Selbstverständlichkeit" with which he drew the thing. it was as if he were just a slow machine running through a very predetermined program. it was very impressive. it is getting late. why am i still here?...