Beauty

I'm on a quest, a hunt,
to find something beautiful everyday, and document it.
I believe, deeply, that this world is full of beauty,
that beauty reveals itself to open eyes, that
all places, even cities, even Hong Kong,
are just waiting to be seen.
Some people say this city is made of
concrete, of bamboo, of buses and smoke and money.
I say it is made of people--
people working, talking, loving, growing, hoping, dying.
And what's not beautiful about that?
Two things I saw today--
men taking down 28 floors of scaffolding. Patiently,
steadily, untying the canvas straps and dropping
bamboo down to waiting hands.
Climbing with no harness, just bodies that know what to do.
And this:
A man kneeling outside the hidden bathrooms behind the tennis courts, the ones where we saw Venus.
Before him lie the butts and half-smoked cigarettes of a celebrity-loving crowd.
He unrolls the paper with determined hands and
pours the tobacco into a tin. He is patient and anything but steady.