lifenotes
Editorial By Susan O'Connor, Illustration by Brittney Guest

Life is all about change. It is a surety that can be scary, fabulous and unsettling all at the same time. A few months ago we bought a place in downtown Memphis. It is my first experience living in a truly urban environment. I absolutely love it.

On foot, I’ve discovered the feel of the city. I take off early in the morning or close to sunset with my camera, searching for good light and unusual subjects, both animate and inanimate. The people I run into are wildly varied — the young professional, 30ish bohemian, street rapper, desperate homeless person, serious intellectual, all races and nationalities.

There is no plan to my wanderings. The ultimate goal is a vision of interest or beauty or stark sadness — just whatever moves me at the moment. And contrary to the fears of many, I’ve never felt afraid. Granted, I’m not out after midnight, but without exception the people I’ve met who live downtown are very friendly and accommodating.

One morning I was shooting upward toward the top of a building on South Main. A soft mist permeated the air, but failed to deter the busy foot traffic downtown. The architecture of the building was interesting, with a small leprechaun carved into the woodwork. Also, pigeons happened to be perched at just the right spot as if posing and preening for the camera. A man walking a hulky mixed breed dog stopped and watched for a moment.

When I had finished, he looked at me, shook his head and said, incredulously, “You know what? I’ve lived here for 15 years and never noticed that!” I told him that it’s amazing how carrying a camera changes your perspective.

I have favorite haunts, such as the Bluff City Coffee on South Main and a tiny store called Frank’s Grocery and Deli located between Pearl’s Oyster House and Spindini. The good selection of foods always surprises me because of the store’s size, and they deliver via a bike. And for a night on the town, The Runway Boutique on South Main is the place to find a perfect dress or a blouse to jazz up a pair of jeans. Next door, the boutique’s owners have recently opened a shoe store that is a constant temptation.

I also love riding the trolley to church. One Sunday morning it was just the driver and I. He was elderly, with a lifetime etched into his weathered face. We spoke as I boarded but didn’t chat during the four-block ride to the church. As we stopped, though, he looked me straight in the eyes, held my gaze, and said with gravity, “Please pray for me today.” I took his request very seriously.

At last month’s Beale Street Blues Festival, the coolness of living downtown really hit me. As 20-somethings braved the rain and mud down by the river to listen to great music, we invited friends to sit on the balcony and enjoy the scene from 15 stories up. It was sweet.