Saturday, 4. March 2006, 01:39:54
A while ago I just walked around in town, trawling streets and narrow passages just for the fun of it, noticing small shops I never knew existed. I also promised myself I would visit some of them again later - not just go past them. Well - today I started fulfilling that promise.
I was walking down a side street to the main shopping street - on the opposite side of what I normally do the few times I walk that particular street (in case details are important to know

) - when a woman left a shop in front of me. I turned my head, looked in the window, and thought: Why not? So I entered.
First impression: Womens draper's. Second impression: And more. or maybe it was the other way around. When I looked in the shop window I noticed there were different things inside. A sign on the door said it was a womens draper's, but... I entered anyway. Another man entered right after me - but he only delivered something, so I guess he doesn't count. But there were a couple of others there, apart from the clerk/owner. One lady, and one - guy. Painted or tattooed in the face, like - well, a shaman or something like that. Very "native tribe"-like. Talked like that too - and he had something for the shop owner.
Now, he didn't really look very much out of place in the shop. Womens garments were sold, yes - but it was also sort of an alternative shop: Pillows from Nepal, with patterns that told a story and should help, incense, and - well. Jewellery and poems as pictures and soaps and much other stuff too. Some magazines were on a table, with such alternative themes, but I don't think they were for sale. And then something about a shaman lesson or something - I didn't read. Third world, alternative and womens garment sums it all up, though.
Where do I fit in in all this? Well - the owner told me, after the lady she was serving had left, that she hadn't seen me in the shop before, but she had waited for me. She had seen me many times in the street (main street where I walk several times a week is very visible from the shop) and knew I would come. She didn't know when, but she knew I would come. And wondered if she could help.
Well - I just wanted to see what kind of shop it was, and what she had to offer. Then she turned to that tattooed guy who had been waiting. As I was browsing I overheard pieces of their conversation: He had been on his way up the street, when he had felt he should come into the shop, and he wanted her to have something. She did sound a bit sceptical, didn't think he knew what he was talking about - but at the same time, curious of what it was he had for her. When he left, she was back to me at once. She had something to show me, something just right for me. And showed me - a skirt.
OK, it was a nice skirt - I have no problems admitting that. She also found a couple of others, but - well, not my style really. So she showed me the rest of the shop, telling about the various stuff, like the pillows from Nepal, and how one woman (a new mother) didn't have milk in her breasts, but with the help of the pattern on the pillow she bought and some incense or oil (don't remember what) the milk started flowing. Well - nothing magic there - it just helped her focus and relax.
The most peculiar thing about my visit there though, is a painting. It was a big painting that was there when she got the premises, much red and orange. I noticed it and studied it some. She noticed me watching it, and told me she had looked at it a while before she noticed what it all was about: There are three persons in the painting; A man with a hat, seen from behind, at the bottom of a staircase. A woman in a red dress in the middle of the staircase, showing her leg. And a woman in a door frame at the top, wearing her corset. They're prostitutes, and there's no faces painted - even though the women look straight at us.
This is not peculiar in itself - but the fact that I remember the conversation we had about the picture is. Not remembering from this afternoon in the shop - I remember it from somewhere else, a long time ago. I remember the picture, too - at least the colours - but, I'm pretty sure I haven't seen it before... Do I remember it from a dream I've had? I don't know.
Well - I left the shop without buying anything, but I got a stick of incense with me. To me from the owner. She insisted I should have it.
