Miniature meditations on the imagery I notice as my life moves me around my country and the world.
Friday, February 26, 2016
Love locks, Boston Massachusetts
The phenomenon of love locks fascinates me: two people in love or lust with one another go put a lock on a public fence, perhaps decorated to represent them and perhaps not, and then they just abandon it. It's a rather minor form of vandalism, and certainly less personally permanent than getting a tattoo, but do people still feel the same pain and resentment when they've broken up and see their lock still standing there? Do they even recognize it amongst the many that accumulate in certain places? Do disgruntled lovers ever sneak up with bolt cutters in the dark of night, to chop a painful piece of fence away? Or do careful people keep their combination saved in a little file labelled "just in case"?