Everything becomes an art
At some point, every endeavor done to its utmost becomes elevated to the level of an art. I will never forget when my father came to visit almost 20 years ago and led me on a walk around my own neighborhood, pointing out craftsmanship and achievement I had never noticed, especially, most mundanely but most powerfully, the cement pourings that made up the sidewalk. Every corner was stamped with the name of the firm, “J. W. Mougham.” As a general contractor and builder for many years, my father was able to note how straight and true the stress lines were, which would allow the cement, under stress from roots and shifting soil underneath, to fracture along those lines rather than breaking elsewhere. “This man knew what he was doing,” Dad said. I have never looked at sidewalks the same way since.
Which brings me to the subject of this video, which will leave me thinking somewhat differently about one of the games we used to play around the campfire. Clearly, there’s an art to this as well. To me, this display of shadow hand puppetry is astonishing.