As I was looking for Pokémon last night (don't judge me), I walked past a place I hadn't been by in a while. Maybe it was the way it was lit, maybe it was the time of day, but when I walked by I saw something different. The sight of a car engine on the ground pulled me closer and I started walking a little slower. I was walking past the car repair shop but I felt as though I was walking past a temple. I don't get to many temples anymore the way I used to when I was travelling, and if I do get to temples in Ottawa, they're big and defined.
I slowed down and noticed that feeling I get when I'm looking at religious folk art. I start to notice and appreciate things like handwritten chalk numbers on the stacks of tires; the cars being worked on separately, laid out to be tinkered with; the tools in drawers and things organized in a human way, all to be used to help heal the sick. The shaman, I mean mechanic, must have been around as the bays were open and the radio was on, but I didn't see anyone.
I gave my thanks and moved on, touched by the potent sight.
I slowed down and noticed that feeling I get when I'm looking at religious folk art. I start to notice and appreciate things like handwritten chalk numbers on the stacks of tires; the cars being worked on separately, laid out to be tinkered with; the tools in drawers and things organized in a human way, all to be used to help heal the sick. The shaman, I mean mechanic, must have been around as the bays were open and the radio was on, but I didn't see anyone.
I gave my thanks and moved on, touched by the potent sight.