And as I think about life, urban life with all the people, all the noise, all the visual cues, good and bad, I wonder how I am able to move around. There is so much angst, so much anxiety, so much to be thankful for.
Parades are like old habits. Each parade contains much that is familiar, much that has been seen before, much that has been heard before. Modern life is simply a private parade, an old habit, circular, never ending filled with repetition, filled with brass instruments, filled with rebellious balloons.
Each city has a place for silence, a place for introspection, a place for prayer, a place for the imagination.
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