At points, the city is broken.
It is inevitable, but as it happens, we can practice kintsugi. In kintsugi, we aggrandize the damage of an object by filling the cracks with gold. We believe that when something has suffered damage and has a history, it becomes more beautiful.
So does the city.
When it is repaired by those who want to see it prosper.
I am stressed today.
Last night I had a number of anxiety dreams, including a Dali-like one where I was in a buffet-style cafeteria with a colleague and my boss, and I was trying to serve myself breaded chicken, kernels of corn (which I had overlooked the first time through the line and was glad to see second time around), peas, and rice. (This was a fairly bland meal, and as some dream in black-and-white rather than technicolor, so I must dream in foodstuffs-for-the-ulcerative.) The wood shelf that held all these items on the buffet was slowly rising up from the left side, I realized toward the end, so that as I shoveled the rice with my Ineffectual Dream-Produced Fork onto my plate, only a fraction of the grains actually made it onto my plate. By the time I had finished filling my plate and found my colleagues, they were done eating, and my food was cold.
I had read a children’s book on Dali to my 5-year-old at bedtime. I call my dream with the sliding food, “Persistence of Hunger.”
In a bold intellectual property rights grasp, Egypt’s Supreme Council of Antiquities plans to send legislation to the Egyptian Parliament that will force others to share profits from the use of ancient and museum objects like the pyramid, the Times reported today (“Egypt to copyright landmarks”). Case in point: more people visit the pyramid-shaped Luxor Hotel in Las Vegas each year than the pyramids in Luxor, Egypt. Egypt wants its cut.