it doesn’t really matter if you wear specs to see or not,
there’s definitely one of her, however,
seeing her is seeing double.
“who I am at pushcart, is not really who I am,”
confused? good! you’re on the same page that I was.
to be clear, she is a writer, she is a barista, she is the Pushcart Journal’s peddler. typical to the species of writers, she herself is a work -among many of her works- in progress. and, just as a writing draft is indigenous to the process of writing, what she really edits isn’t on paper – that is, if you really get a chance to see her.
yes, its true; you can see her in flight as a pushcart manager, observe her behind the counter as a barista, or, peddling her pen to pen stories for the pushcart journal.
while these are all her, what is masked underneath that nervous, but wonderfully humane mind of hers, is a complex of being everything, but, imperfect. this, as I see it, is what makes her the ultimate peddler of life, attempting the subconscious feat of putting something on the to-do list that most wouldn’t even scribble,