Fence, Two Ways

I notice well made things. I like well crafted tools. I can tell the dif­fer­ence between sur­gi­cal instru­ments made in Ger­many and Pak­istan by hold­ing them. The Ger­man ones are bal­anced, sturdy, right. The Pak­istani ones are less pre­cise even in the hold­ing of them. Sub­tle dif­fer­ences, but in hold­ing the well made tool I feel (lit­er­ally) hap­pier. This is a weird thing I guess. Can‘t explain it. Maybe I feel con­nected to the per­son who spent the extra time forg­ing it well.

Doing surgery for a while, as I have, I can tell the dif­fer­ence between threads that are a tenth of a mil­lime­ter in diam­e­ter by how they feel in my gloved hand. This doesn‘t mat­ter, except that it is amaz­ing to think of what our brains can learn to do.

Some­one made a fence out of old cor­ru­gated metal and grat­ing. It is bet­ter than a fence that you can buy, I think. Why is that? I mean why is it that I think that and why do I think about that and take a pic­ture and write a blog post? It‘s bet­ter than think­ing about all the things that don‘t matter…all the ways that we divide our­selves – gos­sip (I do it), under­cut­ting, exploit­ing weak­nesses in those around us. I am think­ing about the work­ing world now. I like this fence. When I saw it I believed it was made to bring neigh­bors together and not as way to keep them out. That is why these lit­tle emphases on qual­ity and craft and beauty mat­ter to me.