The Barbershop

Practices that began as bounded places we visited have thinned into atmospheres we inhabit.

The endurance of the building itself reinforces implicit messages that foster good character.

An invisible world.

What has Ezra Pound to offer to the citizens of the Front Porch Republic?

Out here the road doesn’t speak theory—it breathes.

A box by a door. A hand that picks up. A name that calls an object to account.

Practicing the discipline of attention

While I was talking with one Texan who was at her first FPR conference, she told me, "I think I've found my people."

I stood amongst bones bleached dry and white.

They filled our shared porch with plants in beautiful stone pots.

Crouched between reflective handrails and stained cloth seats holding the memories of seasons past, I encountered daily more humanity, more culture, and more reverent wisdom than perhaps ever before.

Apprenticeship, not exploitation—and why place still matters.