Your reactions to my knitting piece (from sheepish confessions of a shared hatred of knitting to outrage for even considering that knitting & feminism have any relationship at all) were simply fantastic.
I’m still ruminating on the knitting, but I wanted to keep it light this time and talk about some found art on my block.
At the beginning of the winter, a string of trees were wrapped in sweaters. It was striking and weird but fitting for the uber cutesyness of my neighborhood.
With that said, it still annoyed a bunch of people (see the comments for a taste of what I mean).
But a couple of weeks ago, the sweaters came down and in their place, there were signs that turned out to be letters written by children welcoming spring and telling us why they had chosen their outfits for the new season.
Obviously my sentimental side is apparent. These notes remind me of my own childhood, when I would obsessively make paper dolls and outfits for them during the reading hour after lunch break every day. My neighborhood now is where I spent every summer as a kid. This is all connected.
This celebration of spring, this personification of trees.
And yes, I realize that that these last two notes aren’t on trees. I still live in Brooklyn and smart asses still exist.
But Happy Spring ! (anyway)