Positioned on a busy corner at Crenshaw and Washington, she sits on the city sidewalk, against a short brick wall, with piles of clothing, blankets, quilts maybe a sleeping bag or two spiraling around her large body.
She takes up space, unapologetically, sitting at the center of a material nest, loosely woven.
Her legs are crossed and her torso is upright. She stares ahead as if in a meditation. Her light brown sleeveless dress is almost the color of her skin which creates an initial, startling, impression that she is exposed.
Her body is regal, her gaze strong, her hardship momentarily disguised.
A march rages on just a few miles from where she sits in her own silent protest.