People flock by the millions to Apple Stores. . . not just to buy high-quality devices but to bask and breathe and linger, pilgrims to a grand, hermetic, impeccable temple to style—an uncluttered, glassy, super-sleek style that feels “contemporary” in the sense that Apple stores are like back-on-earth sets for 2001: A Space Odyssey, the early 21st century as it was envisioned in the mid-20th. And many of those young and young-at-heart Apple cultists-cum-customers, having popped in for their regular glimpse and whiff of the high-production-value future, return to their make-believe-old-fashioned lives—brick and brownstone town houses, beer gardens, greenmarkets, local agriculture, flea markets, steampunk, lace-up boots, suspenders, beards, mustaches, artisanal everything, all the neo-19th-century signifiers of state-of-the-art Brooklyn-esque and Portlandish American hipsterism.

When all else fails, make art.

Housing prices, industries and morale are all sinking. But for some, the recession brings a rare moment of opportunity – the chance to bravely pursue a dream when there is nothing else to lose.

It’s too Monday morning to think about how this connects to the stuff I’ve been thinking about the last few days, except to say I think creativity in art must be both personal and social, and somewhere in there lies the connection to citizenship and cities and making things better.