It begins with a green plant.
Let's just say some one walks by there everyday after work.
Two years, twenty-four months, five days a week.
Let's just say for 235 days a year the one spends almost four hours here so in two years that would be eight. Until one day that one thinks I should save just enough to put a plant here. Something green.
Let's just say another one sees that green plant there and decides to paint a wall, a conversation piece, bursts of colors, a scene. And then come flowers and some one replaces the windows until one fine day some one looks at another one and says let's make a community center
or a shopping mall
or a coffee shop
I mean, this is the way it is but it doesn't always have to be, and I do know there is some beauty to that stone, that wood. It's kind of exquisite in it's simplicity.
(but Alton could do some great damage to that wall)
Today I am grateful for no such thing as a blank canvas, for how places can seem to ask for our imagination. If we listen.
I am grateful to the AT&T guy who came out and gave me real internet. I mean, he didn't give it to me. I have to pay for it, but today was a party of music and candle and homemade spaghetti and ohmygosh Netflix binging. It's like Alton came and painted a wall of my life.
(dear me, you need to get out more. or nah, you're fine. you have Netflix)