diffused concentration

thirty minutes ago, it turned into fall. i sometimes park at my old office,
people productions in downtown boulder-- it's a dark parking lot surrounded by transients who hover around liquor mart. it gets sketchy pretty fast in that weird neighborhood, and i need to stop parking there after 5pm (or at least walking back to my car alone late at night.) i was walking back from the bar at a fast clip, and started jogging from the bus station-- the wind was just strong enough to give my heavy denim jacket lapels a nice dramatic push away from my chest. a street full of dried leaves skittered toward me, and as i rounded the corner in full view of my old, odd brick building, i saw that the light was on upstairs in the office.

one of the employees kind of lived at the office when i worked there-- always had a sleeping bag and part of an bicycle peeking out behind his office door-- and he was in the conference room setting up a chimera, several white sheets, a c-stand and some production lights with the barn doors fully closed. i couldn't see what he was shooting, but it was oddly beautiful to see him in that quiet office with nothing but two key lights and a chimera glowing while dry, camel-colored leaves brushed up against the side of his sturdy brick building. his car, with the puffy MIT bumper sticker, was the only one besides mine in the parking lot, and i thought about leaving a note on his windshield... but i couldn't find the right thing to say. "hope your project is fun," i thought... "nice soft box, grraaar, from jane." i couldn't write what i felt compelled to say, which was simply, "i've been up late at night working on my personal projects, too -- the lighting looked beautiful from the street, i hope your night was productive and artistic. from, a fellow late-night key light setter."