Interactive art is an invitation to be part of the creative process. Last week there was a chorus of a thousand voices, all describing life in New York City at seven o'clock. A friend was part of it, and for two hours each evening stood in one spot with a hat that illuminated his face. His strand of the lyrics described how the neighborhood has changed, leaving no place to get your shoes fixed. His was one of hundreds of reflections, and sentiments around carving out a life in Manhattan. 

One section had a theme of how a single thing can make all the difference. Or none. 

"Funny how hope changes everything."

Then as if in response came the contradiction.

"Funny how hope changes nothing."

"Funny how money changes everything."

"Funny how money changes nothing."

The thousands of listeners strolled the High Line, at a pace of their own choosing. They were free to linger beside a single tenor, or stride past quickly. They could gaze into the performers eyes, or at the ground. One vocalist's words wove into the next, crafting a piece of music a mile long. 

The architects of the project had a vision, and spent a year or more bringing musicians on board, and addressing problems like staying on key. Each singer had a tuning fork. While my friend had the chance to walk through and hear everyone else's piece in an early rehearsal, not all singers were so lucky. They may only know their own recitative, and those closest to them. 

Our lives can meander in such a way that our own brief contributions shimmy in between those of our neighbors, leaving us with the illusion that it is rather paltry. I took a meal to a friend last month. She is having more than her share of struggles, and no doubt my gesture made all the difference. Or then again, probably none. Her baby still cries. A woman brought me flowers on a day when our family was struggling, and it too made all the difference. Except that Benjamin is just as confounding even with vincas on the table. 

Yet the part that I play in a High Life is intricately embedded in the polyphony all around me. It's a concert worth being in.