Flow of Connections At ‘Granite Gates’

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Connections, connections, connections….

Always do your best when you’re trying to find a right connection… Look around thoroughly; dead-lock on target hawkishly; sift through data ardently.

Or, “Mine the data!”— as the fad d’jour goes—for THAT ultimate, affirmative, momentous connection! The firmest, the most assertive — the one that can prove anything to be proved.

But remember, there might be a wicked caveat tagged here to impede your enthusiastic bustle, and it says: “Mind your connections!” . Carefully observe them all— the connections you have, the connections you’ve just found, the connections you’ve created in your imagination.…

… I walk along the city streets. Again, but it’s in a different city now, not the one I was digging recently. Surprise — this city has a name.

Any city is the world in itself. I bet, if you dig deep enough into a certain urban-type settlement, after a while you’re getting into a state of enchantment.

So, my attention is completely directed outward, seeking for connections — and this doesn’t even reach the upper deck— there’s no conscious realization of the process. Mind you — it’s extremely hard to not seek for a pattern in whatever unfolds before your faculties primarily dedicated for a job of perceiving.

My gaze falls upon an entrance door of a three-storey brick building that has an apparent look of a rented apartment house.

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Something in the back of my mind rings the bell… Is it signalling me there’s a connection just been detected?

What could that be?

A piece of art deco! How come — in such an unexpected place?!

In Winnipeg? Hmm, Winnipeg…

Well, why not? — but in a neighbourhood like that? Hmm, I don’t know…

From some improbable angle that my inner eye looks at these letters, ’75 ON YOUNG’, I could instantly see some other places — connecting them together.

Here we go — I see another door, leading inside the New York City’s art-deco hallmark — the Marine Air Terminal at the La Guardia Airport.

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Stimulated this way, my inner eye continues to zip across the ‘Big Apple’…

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Then, a click

An interruption, a bifurcation, or, I don’t know how to call it exactly … Maybe, we don’t need to define that THING precisely, we should never bother to give the name to that flash-like act in your brain… associated with a swift change, a turn on the dime — after which your thoughts are racing on a completely different course… Or, maybe, not quite different…

Yes, indeed: for a fleeting moment my mind cares me away to… Los Angeles, an imaginary Los Angeles that sprung off from the Raymond Chandler’s novels depicting the life and adventures of a lone truth-seeker-for-hire named Philip Marlowe.

I’m making a prompt mental note: ‘When over there, on an occasion with enough ‘leisure time’, I should go get on a tour visiting Raymond Chandler’s Los Angeles.

Perhaps this area of Winnipeg’s inner city, this number of blocks taken by brick facades, further compartmentalized into private worlds named apartments… populated by a certain class of urban dwellers… somehow, in some incredible way, has approximated an imaginary world I’ve got familiar with from the Raymond Chandler’s novels…

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A town in town.. A galaxy of renting communities’ micro-worlds…
Walking along these streets, one block after another, looking at provisory signs of discreet life behind the dull facades… it certainly was stimulating for the imagination …

Carefully — and for a very brief moment — I’m immersing myself into the world of Chandler’s characters, packed in riddle, boiled in mystery — and in their own locale!

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Click!

And that’s it, I emerge from the ghosty world of hyper-real Chandler’s fiction into the modernity of the year 2016…

A fleeting thought passes my mind, “Oh, a lot has changes since then…“

But then, “Has it? a lot indeed?…”

Written by

born in the USSR.. Launched on a life-long exploration trip to confirm the world's interconnectedness

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