There is nothing luxurious or transcendent about traveling on Chicago Transit Authority’s public buses. Unless, of course, you’re lucky enough to sit next to someone who is luxurious, or transcendent.
Today, I was lucky enough.
To say he was “a big guy” would be quite an understatement. I’d guess he was at least 6’4″. And immaculate. His shoes and belt were glistening cranberry. His charcoal slacks draped his looooong legs with razor-creases. And his shirt… a crispy white linen with the most surprising silver-threaded detailing.
The embroidery was hypnotic. The cataloguey picture above does NO justice to the trance-inducing needlework I’m talking about.
I looked at those silver fibers and saw the nimble fingers that had embedded them in that shirt. I saw the person attached to those needle-working fingers… the family attached to that person… the neighborhood that houses that family… the city that houses that neighborhood… and on and on…
The whole world in a stitch.
What? Don’t you have morning thoughts like that? LOL.
I am thankful for all the artisans and hand-crafters all over the world. The work that they do, and the beauty that they create is tedious. Stunning. And capable of transporting you much further than your local bus ever could :-)