A blank space just begs me to make a mark in it. It could be fresh snow, a clean blackboard, a blank sheet of paper, a dirty car, a field of tall grass.
Snow invites making a "snow angel." Have you ever plopped down in the snow and moved your arms and legs up and down? You recorded for those after you that you were there.
"Kilroy was here!" Who was that? What difference did he make? Why didn't I catch a glimpse of him? You remain curious because his presence seemed important, somehow.
Do you remember carving your name in a tree, or a school desk? Did you ever write in someone's autograph book? Have you signed a petition? Even if you are illiterate you have permission to "make your mark," then cast your ballot.
Each of you wants others to know that you passed this way and left your tracks, your marks. We leave our marks for posterity, to be heard or seen, and to make a difference. To exist!
Sign here ______________________________________.
Tags: Identity reflections prose
My "topical post" today at South by Southwest is about lack of trust in the government.
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