What makes someone interesting or fascinating?

I saw what looked to be an old man riding his bike the other day. He had tan weathered skin and no shirt. His face was almost completely obscured by a long and wild white beard that had started yellowing at parts. I think he may have been homeless. Maybe not though. But seeing him made me wonder how he got to where he is. At what point in his life did he decide to be who he is? What happened? What made him choose the life he has? What chain of events occured that brought him to this point in his life? There was a show on last night about the homeless in California. It depressed me. There are so many people out there to help but sadly, I’m hardly ever motivated enough to do anything. What’s worse is that a lot of the people that can get help usually don’t want it. It’s strange to think about what different people might have been like when they were younger…

Do you ever close your eyes, press on them with your fingers, and then watch the colors that appear? I wonder if that’s bad for your eyes….I’ve been doing it since I was little. It’s almost like a laser show or a kaleidoscope (yes, I did have to look up the word to spell it).

I’ve noticed that everytime I start getting an idea for a new project, other people start making things similar to what I have in mind. When I began thinking about painting birds, I started seeing similar artwork all over the place. Last week I decided I wanted to do something wih an asian feel, maybe even paint some geishas, and then Ly put up her newest piece yesterday that has the same asian feel I was thinking about. I don’t know….it just seems ironic to me.

What makes people attractive? I always wonder what it is that I find attractive in the opposite sex, but there’s really no rhyme or reason to it. Maybe it’s a chemical thing? But then how would that explain just being attracted to someones picture when not even knowing the person? People are just so interesting. I wish I could just sit on a bench downtown all day and watch everyone that goes by. Once for a school project I sat in the mall for an hour or so and wrote down the people that stood out. It was an odd sort of fun. I guess I’m just a voyeur.