Boots

For years I’ve performed in boots. Not because I need steel-toes in case I drop my poem or my guitar, but because in the moment it takes to lace up I’m reminded of folks like my brother the logger, who perform physical labor daily in all sorts of conditions and with no spotlight or applause. I work hard at what I do. And I’ve gotten to where I’ll push back at this whole oversimplified gosh-darn idea that “if you can’t stack it or stack with it, it doesn’t count.”* But I also know how fortunate I am to have found the lane I’ve found, and I try to approach it with blue-collar intent.**

Photos by Lee Butterworth.

*Quoting myself, from Montaigne In Barn Boots.
**Gray socks reflect my Unified Laundry Theory, as detailed in Chapter 8 of Truck: A Love Story.