Oh dear. So what you see here is broken glass. I would like to say it’s because the art came down and didn’t prevent the pup from bumping into the window. But, no, this is a window that was not covered in art. No excuse for the dog’s action.
Several years ago, when I lived in Brookline, MA, I would take this same dear Portuguese water dog to a park to run him, give him exercise. One day, as I was about to get out of my car, I saw a coyote standing atop a wall in the park, a stone’s throw away. That coyote was not about to move. I waited. He was beautiful. And still. Finally, I opened the door of the car to make some noise. I watched as the wild being serenely and elegantly dismounted and loped away. A few minutes later, when all was clear, I let my dog out: by contrast to this very smooth coyote, it looked as if my pup fell out of the car and scrambled into the park, falling all over himself. The difference in their movement was remarkable.
Before I took note of my window, I was reading further in my Dylan Chronicles and noting a section where he encounters a musician that is so skilled that he, Dylan, realizes he never in his lifetime would reach that level. He talks about how, at that moment, he threw out his map, his ideas/plans for how his life was going to go forward. He realized it was time to become himself, as I understand it. I’ve never heard of the musician he so admired. And who hasn’t heard of Dylan?
I love reading about that moment. And Dylan’s choice to become more of himself. I love that the ability is not the measuring stick, it’s the individual. In all his/her imperfection. Memorable.