Everything I have learned from living in Philadelphia stems from misunderstanding or ignorance to how things work. Just tonight I took a “shortcut” to avoid walking from Broad to 19^th Street by taking the Trolley. What happened? Well, I missed my stop, ended up walking three blocks out of my way, and showing up late to the Adrienne Theater which was my final destination. Fortunately, a staff member led me to a section of empty seats fittingly labeled, “Reserved for Late Comers!”

Although I missed the first five minutes of “The How and the Why,” the characters, and indirectly playwright, guided my thoughts toward science—a subject I unfortunately have little discipline or understanding for. The daughter of an evolution biologist, an evolution biologist herself, argues with a woman she last saw when she was six days old, about the implication of presenting a hypothesis as an individual. Rachel, the daughter, claims that her boyfriend and her bounced ideas off of each other after an interesting dream. Who owns that idea? She dreamt of something with little to do with science, and after a day of intense conversation, was able to formulate a revolutionary hypothesis that could change the way humans view very important aspects of their existence.

Who owns our ideas? Does true originality exist? Carl Sagan wrote in his science fiction novel, Cosmos, “If you wish to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first invent the universe.” If it is true that creation is only merited to that of who is responsible for the universe, then it seems silly to even think that an apple pie recipe can be called one’s own. Unless…a person creates his or her own universe—whether it be a novel, a play, or simply a lens to view the world—maybe that is where creativity exists.

This pole asks a simple question, but the answer can be complicated. In a city so diverse, so flawed, and so beautiful, who can we attribute this to? Perhaps those who live in Philadelphia are living in a separate universe from the rest of the world. Perhaps even, each universe is created in the individual cultures and neighborhoods that make up the city.  Sure, universes cross over, intertwine, and overlap. Isn’t that what creativity is, after all? Ideas are not exclusive concepts. Neither are the stories of the people living in Philadelphia nor the questions posed by inanimate objects.

Who owns this pole? We all do. None of us do. I own this photograph, but do I really? These questions are at the heart of my experiences in Philadelphia—grit and beauty present in my studies and leisure alike.

“A Beautiful Night Went Gritty”
Sights like this seemingly always add a nice layer of “grit” and character to the city of Philadelphia. Such intriguing sights leave explanation up to the minds of passersby, giving the people of the city a beautiful, collective, subconscious appreciation for the bizarre sights that give our city character.

“Subtle Humor”
The grit of a protest brings out the beauty of humor and sarcasm in some.

“Grits for Breakfast”
A praying mantis consumes the insides of a bumble bee outside my friend’s Philadelphia home. Oftentimes we forget that in such a gritty, concrete environment, the beauty and persistence of nature still exists. Throughout such a fast-paced city, overlooking small details proves more than easy – especially small details in nature.

From behind the walls, the earth creeps, brandishing weapons of beauty in unlikely ways. She sends a warning; beware the solid roof and concrete walls, for the force of nature lurks in every form – a hidden gem slowly revealed. No city is complete without its roots, however deep we may bury them – the earth will show her true colors. Come Philadelphia, let us embrace earth, reminds us of her soft and humbling power in this concrete jungle. Witness her beauty beneath.