Tag this.

There is a woman in town who knit-tags. Periodically,  you’ll come across a parking meter that has a little knitted scarf around it, or a light post with a rainbow shawl. It’s such a strange moment when you realize that the metal looks warmer. The humanizing of inanimate objects. It’s like a personal beautification program. And now I will tag that statue with mittens.

This weekend I was helping Dave put a new drain in the shower. By helping, I mean holding things in place. And I started to think about our stories. What do people mean when they talk about our stories? Because art is subjective, it will kick air out of us or not for a multitude of reasons. But, in the end, isn’t a successful story, on some level, about what it means to be human?

I held the pipe in place while Dave yanked and twisted and it seemed so odd to think of stories belonging only to certain of us. All those cold parking meters and lamp posts where there used to be trees. Whenever I see one with a scarf I feel, strangely, bolstered. We are connected with our drains and our stories and our love of warmth and color. Sometimes we are made to feel alone, but it isn’t true. We are all in this together.

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