Pausing with places & people

Over the last few weeks there have been many reasons to take a few moments to pause during my walks. Pausing to talk to people, pausing to take a photo, pausing to sit, pausing to observe, and pausing to just imagine what a place is, was, or might be. In this first post I’ve included a selection of pauses that are documented through photos and recalled conversations. I am just starting to experiment with autoethnographic writing, but have not reached the point where I am connecting anecdotes and stories to wider cultural and social meanings and understandings. Perhaps some more on this next time.

Thank you for taking a pause in your day to visit my blog.

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“It’s a dead end” a woman shouts down to me, smiling and pointing from her balcony. I look in the direction I was intending to walk, smile back and thank her. Tina, my dog, is sat looking up at me with a daft smile and tongue hanging to one side. I am now in a dilemma. The explorer in me wants to walk a little further down the derelict path (which I think would be Tina’s preference). But the resident in me wants to respect the warning from my neighbour. I am on unfamiliar territory in this part of town.  I am watched from windows, balconies and parked cars. I am off-roading on the many unmarked foot paths and alleyways that connect the mapped, marked roads on Google Maps. I turn back this time and find another way through, likely to return to the find the very end of the dead end another time.

“Move, you fucking…” he shouts. There is a man walking towards me with a dog that is pulling on the lead to meet Tina. The man’s angry eyes meet mine, he moves sideways off the path in between the parked cars, pulling the reluctant dog behind him. In that split second I simultaneously turn around to walk the other way and then realise that he has moved off the path for me and my about turn continues round 360 degrees to resume my original journey. We pass each other with a row of cars between us. His dog is still looking back at mine. “Come ‘ere…” He aggressively pulls the dog and we walk in opposite directions.

“Can I stroke her” she says. “Of course,” I reply,  “she is very friendly.” “My husband and I want a dog.” She continues to tell me about her partner being retired from the army. “The thing is, I am worried about when their bottom is dirty and they sit down get it on the floor. Is that a problem?” I reassure her that Tina is very clean, and that the only poo incidents were during her puppy months.  I answer more questions about where we walk her, how much walking she needs a day. She introduces herself, goes to shake my right hand, sees the sagging poo bag and I gesture with a nod of my head that the other hand is a better choice. She gently touches and shakes my left forearm and says “nice to meet you Lizzie, I live at number 9. I am just going to my mums to drop some stuff off. Hey maybe if I get a dog we could meet up and walk the dogs together.” I smile and agree and say I look forward to seeing her again.

“Hello” I smile at the man as I cross the road. He has 2 dogs off the lead, going about their business on a grassy patch. Confused, he half replies. “uh Hi…(pause) Get over here…now…I said now…” I jump a little, then realise he is shouting at his dogs with all the [unnecessary] bravado he can muster.

“Hello” I say to a man perched on a wall, reading a newspaper. “Hello love”, he replies.

“Is that a pug?” A lady asks, as she weeds the paving in her front yard. “uh, yes we think so, she’s a rescue.” She continues, “Oh, are you the lady that lives over there?” She points indirectly across the way. “No, I live along Hill Reach.” I reply. “I’ve not been around here before, just exploring that’s all. Do you have a dog?” I ask, “No” she shuts the conversation down. Too familiar I suppose?

Author: lizzfort

Community dance artist-educator-researcher View all posts by lizzfort