letting the hidden lamp shine through

"Why can't things stay the same here? Every time I come down here, businesses have moved or closed."

I suspect those words are part of the national anthem of Seniorlandia. Old age and change are not natural dance partners.

In this case, they were part of a lunch conversation with an acquaintance who was about to depart on the Second Great Canadian Exodus. He was bemoaning the fact that so many of his favorite watering holes had closed or moved since he was here last year.

I thought the complaint was odd. Most of the places I regularly visit (Hawaii, Rooster's, Dra. Rubio) have been in the same place for as long as I have been here -- or nearly as long. But there are a lot of businesses that were in one location in 2009 and are now conducting trade somewhere else. For some, it has been several somewhere elses.

And then there are the numerous businesses that once were -- and now are no more. Just like many of the tourists who once came here, but who have permanently hung up their passports.

I was on my way to Men's Bible study this morning at Esmeralda's restaurant when I ran into the image jogger at the top of this essay. When I moved here, that wall formed part of the boundary of Ava's restaurant. It then became Esmeralda's restaurant before she moved a block away. It is now essentially a hole in the world of commerce.

The wall is the living embodiment of the intriguing phenomenon known in art as "pentimento." My university art history text defines it as "the presence or emergence of earlier images, forms, or strokes that have been changed and painted over."

"Pimiento" played an integral part in Season 3 of "The Crown" when the Queen used the term to subtly refer to Anthony Blunt, her Surveyor of the Queen's Paintings, who she had just discovered had been a communist spy while working at Buckingham Palace. "Well, I think I speak for everyone here when I say none of us will be able to trust or look at anything in the same way ever again."

There is something bittersweet about the way time has cut through the surface paint to restore messages from long-gone business operators to entice customers to enter and sample proffered wares.

And it is a reminder that no matter how we create an image of how we would like the world to see us, the person we truly are is always with us waiting for time to do its ultimate reveal.

The words the scriptwriter put in the Queen's mouth are a bit more blunt than mine: "Two different versions of the same person. Which might as well be two different people. The idealized version of themselves they want to be seen, and the less desirable person they really are, hidden away."

I am not certain the scriptwriter has it correct for most of us. The version of ourselves we hide may only be a less desirable version of their self in their own eyes. I suspect if we were just a bit more brave in allowing what we hide to be seen, we would discover that person may be far more interesting than the person we regularly trot out for public show.

Well, that is, of course, unless what is being hidden is a combination of Ted Bundy, Jeffrey Dahmer, and Lizzie Borden. Some things are wisely left behind the curtain.

For most of us, though, adding a little bit of pentimento in our lives may be a good thing. Maybe, as interesting as that weathered wall on the corner.