TONKY

There are poets like the great Mary Oliver, who might
suggest that one's primary function when moving through the
world, for as long as they have life and the ability to move through
the world, is to play close attention to that which others may foolishly
call small, or quotidian. The brain and heart are both containers, with
as much space as you wish for them to have, and to live is to create
collections of found affections. Sounds from your beloved and
familiar blocks, movements of the trees and the people beneath
them, the way someone you adore may hold you for a few lingering
seconds before releasing from a hug and vanishing into a crowded
crosswalk. To think of our living, our making, and our loving in this
way means that, at least for some of us, we may be propelled forward
by the prospect of what's next. What moment we can hold and place
in our overflowing pockets.