long hand

I got my portrait done today by an amazing textiles artist. She uses an old push pedal sewing machine with thick, ropey thread on canvas. She does a lovely job, and it only takes her about 10-15 minutes. It amazes me, the sureness of the process, the confidence in her ability to create something so original and "beautiful" in such a short time.

Yesterday when I was walking around downtown doing my X-mas shopping, this little round woman grabbed my hand at the crosswalk and asked me to help her across the street because she "didn't want to get killed." Sounded reasonable to me-- I don't want to get killed either. So we went across, holding hands. When we got to the other side, I said "You cool?" She nodded and I said "Thank you." Maybe I'm just ridiculously polite and subserviant, but I probably thanked her because that was the most uncomplicated human interaction I've had in a long time. From out of nowhere I was holding hands with a stranger who wanted my help. No strings attached, just an honest desire for assistance. I suspect her world is a lot scarier than mine, and I was glad it happened to be me standing on the corner just at the moment of whatever inner crisis she was having about getting across the street.

I take too much for granted. After all, I have the luxury of worrying about what people think of me and how and when I'm going to muck around with my neighbour again.