I drive by trees growing inside the burned shells of store fronts and I’m thinking: there is chaos in public spaces that has to be acknowledged and adapted to.  It resists with increasing ferocity all our efforts to control or mold it in our images.  I think about this as projectors short, wires cross, tempers flare and visions fizzle.  Space is not this inert thing upon which we can act…it is an active participant in all things that involve it…and I don’t have the heart to wage a battle of wills with something so infinite.  We cannot come demanding with wants and timetables, stamping our feet and sulking when space refuses to bend around us.  Like children we have to learn to share.