"Do I know You?"

[Gyppo]

"Do I know you?"

A larger-than-life elderly redhead,
in the front row at a poetry reading.
A tall woman of angles, and straight lines,
with unruly hair.
She kept looking at me, face puzzled,
as I sat three rows back with my daughter.

At the first break she almost spoke to me,
but backed off.
My daughter, another keen people watcher, 
was quietly amused.
"Do you know her from somewhere?
"She seems fascinated by you."

"Don't think so."

At the second break she caught me,
climbing over chairs to speak.
"Forgive me, I've just got to know.
Have you ever lived in Salisbury?"

"No, but I've spent time there,
a long time ago."
We traded a few more questions,
and unsatisfying answers.
"You remind me of someone,
but I just can't place you. "

She returned to her seat,
didn't bother looking again.
As we left, a distracted nod,
and a puzzled head shake. 

On the way to the car it clicked.
I mentally stripped forty plus years
from her face,
added a few pounds to her body,
saw the tumbled red thatch
topping it all, and laughed aloud.

"You've just placed her."
My daughter announced,
absolutely certain.

"Yes.  Ninety-eight percent sure.
Jackie.  She lived near the river.
She typed up my first ever novel.
Made a submission-ready copy,
and two carbons.
Charged me thirty pounds.
Nearly two weeks wages."

"Gave me coffee and biscuits
when I went to collect it.
Asked lots of questions..."

My daughter laughed,
"Bet she didn't learn much."
"Probably not."

Gyppo
 

[AlienFlower]

Gyppo, this is such a delightful vignette! And all three characters are needed.

If she has to be called Jackie, at least I'm glad she gave you coffee and biscuits.

Jackie

[Mark]

An interesting exercise in prose-poetry. Direct dialogue is tricky in poetry but this is well-executed. I think further forays into this narrative form complete with orthodox punctuation would serve both your poetry and prose writing, in different ways.

[Gyppo]

Cheers, Jackie, and Mark.

The event was not long before the Covid lockdowns kicked in.  I may well see her again at some future event, in which case I'll be the one asking the questions.

I'm quite good with faces, and very good with names from the past.  But I can't always tie them together straight away.  So I dissemble in the present time whilst my subconscious shuffles through the index cards of memory, viewing and discarding flickering scenes in quick succession.

Having my daughter along for some of these things is like having an extra pair of eyes.  We see the same things but from slightly different angles.

Gyppo

[indar]

Hi Gyppo,

Strangely, I have very poor face recognition ability. I have tried to figure out how that can be reconciled with what I've done for the last 50 years. My guess is that I have to look very hard with no preconceived idea about the subject's face. I've long said doing sculptural portraits is not a matter of technique but of learning to honestly SEE.

I don't mean to suggest that those with good face recognition ability don't SEE and aren't able to get a likeness, just that my situation works for me. Not so much in social settings however when people expect me to remember them, and I have to ask who they are.

Also, it's not a severe problem, I do become familiar with faces over time.

Once again, You've introduced me to one of the many interesting characters that people your world. Your daughter laughed when she said "bet she didn't learn much" but there is very much to be learned about you through your interaction with your subjects (portraits).

[Gyppo]

Indar,

I totally agree with you about the ability to see whatever you are looking at.  Whether you are describing in words or showing with contours, angles, and hues you're hampering yourself if you can't really see what's there.  There is no doubt that some of us, naturally, look harder than others.

The more observant of us spot the little anomalies which make that person or object distinctive, as opposed to 'just' a tall leggy blonde, or another of those ubiquitous white vans, etc.

I had this discussion once with a seaside 'instant portrait' artist who drew a very recognisable sketch of me in a matter of minutes.  I asked him how he did it, and, recognising a kindred spirit, he explained how my ears weren't exactly level, one eye was slightly more hooded than the other, etc.

"Yeah, I know it makes you sound like a patchwork doll, but all those things work together to make a face which is uniquely yours.  Truly symmetrical faces are very rare, but that's how most people will try to draw them if they haven't learned to see before they draw."

=====

I notice unfastened or missing buttons, eyes which don't seem to match the rest of the face, (guarded or unnaturally alert), the way people stand, or sit, or move.  A huge proportion of what I see doesn't get mentioned in the description, but it means I'm describing a rounded person, not just a silhouette, therefore the description avoids being a mere 'cookie cutter' stereotype.

Talking of stereotypes and 'noticing'...  I was at a horse fair today, and laughed out loud when I saw a young Gypsy girl paying for something at a stall.  Her purse, which appeared and vanished again with deft sleight of hand from some hidden pocket, was cunningly designed/printed to look like a bundle of banknotes held together with an elastic band.  If I'd not seen the flash of a metal frame as she opened it to pay I'd have been fooled.

Gyppo

[Willson]

This is such a delicious vignette!
An interesting exercise in prose-poetry. Direct dialogue in poetry is subtle but well-executed.  I think these further forays into this full-fledged narrative form with formal punctuation will serve both your poetry and your prose, in different ways.
it's a lovely part when you get the coffee and biscuits <3

[Gyppo]

What a pleasant surprise to see this garnering attention again.

You've certainly added a liitle bounce to an otherwise grey, wet, and generally miserable November day.  For this, as well as your comments, I thank you.

Jackie, if it was her, fits firmly in the category of what Mum used to describe as 'Ships that pass in the night'.  You see the bright lights appearing, passing, then fading and never really expect to see them again.  In her case she moved to France not long after doing the typing job for me.  We had a brief correspondence, via a letter I left at a flying club I knew she belonged to, and then silence. 

If I see her again I'll definitely speak to her.

Gyppo

[Dave]

Well oberved and a highly entertaining telling.
Thanks