You can go in search of adventures, change your scenery intentionally, travel from place to unfamiliar place, or you can cover the same territory day by day, watching for changes in the familiar. I like to do both, but I tend to tread the same path on my daily walks. There are some Little Free Libraries along the way, but there is also one little cubby built into a private fence and bench at a corner, doubling as a bus stop and waiting room. Generally, I don't see much in it, a magazine, maybe, a ratty paperback book, but a few days ago something handmade caught my eye.
A hand-drawn zine, titled, I'm Mad.
Bound with yarn tied through two hole-punched holes.
Not beautiful, but a sense of humor:
"Reviews: Mom—I'm proud of him. It's on the
fridge."
It took a lot of time to make: it had many pages of writing and drawing.
Much of it was a rant. Some frustrations, loneliness showed.
He put his heart into it.
Drawings, too.
His phone number at the back.
I read through it.
Then left it for others.
Trashed, tossed, taken—I don't know.
Three days later, it was gone.
But now when I walk by and look at the cubby I think: a creative person was there.
My landscape, changed.
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