From the same walk, the sunny day walk, to and from the pharmacy. Solo walk. Cars passed in both directions. Not a single driver would make eye contact. People walking dogs or pushing a stroller passed. Again, no eye contact. I didn't want much - even a nod acknowledging our shared distress. The pharmacy woman was the only person who seemed happy to see me, happy to work out the transaction for which I'd walked the drive-thru lane. She had fabulous lilac nail polish and smiled after I told her I loved the color.
Consider now the four photos of the one tree I took while on that walk.
How does narrative form? Where does the storytelling start? How does our urge to story organize apparently disparate units into apparently inexorable order? And what drives that urge?
Consider now the four photos of the one tree I took while on that walk.
How does narrative form? Where does the storytelling start? How does our urge to story organize apparently disparate units into apparently inexorable order? And what drives that urge?
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