You don't need me to tell you that we take so much for granted; it's the human condition--if everything were new all the time, I doubt we'd ever leave the house. But surely we can bring some of that wonder back into the everyday, especially when we're stressed, especially when we're tired, and most especially when we're cold and stalking toward cynicism.
Perhaps it's too easy to say that everything is art. Perhaps it's more accurate to say that everything *could* be art--all the more reason to surround ourselves, when we can, with things that are lovely, functional, and (the holy grail of material objects) handmade.
I don't know, but I like that company--the company of the artisan, the handmade, the beautiful-and-functional. I like things with life, with years on them, weathered and lasting. I can only hope I'll age so well.