18-1-12

Boots. I have half a dozen plus one pairs of these things in various states of not usable. And two or three pairs that I can use. I should throw them out but they are artifacts of moments. I don't know exactly where I wore these boots, but it might have been Europe, or Ontario, or to that show I loved, or, or...

I wore out a pair of shoes in Paris when I was there. Literally, holes in the soles of them. I still wear them when I take my compost out, and I like the poetic of them taking me by Jean Nouvelle buildings, and to Edith Piaf's grave, and through the doors of Notre Dame that have hung since the 1300s or so (construction started in the 1163) (we human beings are good at blowing stuff up, but those huge wooden doors are still there 650+ years later)

Maybe I should write the dates on my shoes, the day I get them and the day they get put up on a high shelf above a locker of tools.

Maybe.

I'm nearly due a new pair. I can't wait to see where they take me.