we dream, Tig’s pendulous writing said, of a hot tub full of women, lovers and friends. They would hold house meetings to process dispute and idea. In time they would build, on the Pink House lot’s southern edge, tiny insulated homes for people who were homeless in the city. They would share money, they would protect any family member who fell upon hard times, they would never have a landlord again, they would in this manner grow old together.
