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Saturday, December 05, 2009

I Need Something Beautiful Right Now (Again)

I've too much to do, and not enough time to do it.

That's fine; we all seek out that situation, if it's not supplied to us already. The newspapers are always filled with things about simplifying our lives. It's nonsense, always. We'd fill up whatever space we made in our lives with something else, the minute we had a free moment.

Life is richer, and fuller, than at any time in the past. I'm not that old, but I remember the limitless road of drudgery laid out in front of me when I was a young man. Get a job, do it, make your replacements on this mortal coil, watch Gilligan's Island, die. Join the sepia ranks of the anonymous.

Work and family are still all that matter to me in the world, that hasn't changed; it's the dreary wallpaper of everyday life that's improved, and I'm all for it.

Sometimes I catch people wishing for misery, nostalgic for a time when they were forced by circumstances to huddle together. They feel lost out in the landscape of life, and want company. And if you're not willing to go back to their crabby world, they'd like to thrust you back into it. No thanks.

I know people I would not have known if this box of electronics wasn't on my desk. I've seen places I've never been to, and will never visit. I know things I would not have known. I've been reminded of things that would have remained forgotten. I've seen that anybody that thinks they know very much about any one thing is a fool, and that anyone that thinks they know very much about everything is a total ass, and should mind their own business.

As I said, I'm busy, and pressed for time. I've seen the inside of one room for too long. I need to see something beautiful right now.

No sweat.


The Museum of Fine Arts in Boston.

6 comments:

julie said...

Beautiful picture. It's another one where most people have been at some point in their life. Oh, sure - the clothes and the background are different, maybe the texture of the sand, but still...

Look, and then close your eyes and you can smell the salt tang and pungent dried seaweed, hear the soft crashing of small waves at the tide's ebb, lapping softly against the sand's gentle slope. Bare young legs are covered with sandy grit and goosebumps, and you scan the shallow tidal pools carefully, hoping to spot a special shell or a crab, or some other fantastical treasure washed up from the depths. The waves beckon, and you can't wait to run and splash and jump as they wash in, making up games with the ocean's gentle side while the sun warms your head.

Anonymous said...

"the sepia ranks of the anonymous" - whoa - what an evocative image. Without this electronic box I would never have met you (still don't know how I came across your site) or been exposed to the beauty of your word pictures. I am waiting (as are many others, I'm sure) for your continuing saga of "Some Enchanted Place". Glad you are busy though - I assume? it means that business is good. Take care and go to that beautiful place whenever you can. Thank you again for your writing. lorraine

Retriever said...

Good post. And love the painting. Miss the MFA (much time growing up visiting it), far prefer it to the Met.

What I love about these electronic virtual travel boxes is that they bring us beautiful things and interesting people we might never come across as we plod along, SHetland pony, down ta pit of some WElsh coal mine.

I can work the whole day at some boring set of projects that pay the bills if I've seen or read something that captures my imagination.

This morning stalking the blue heron sloshing thru salt marsh and edge of the sea (with a camera). Raining and the thicket I had to crash thru to try to get a view of it gave me away. Saw (but couldn't focus the lens quickly enough on) such a wing span and feathers...what is that Emily DIckinson line about "hope is the thing with feathers..."

Old Iron said...

Not bad; rolls right into Andy's post quite well.

I have argued with many of my colleagues that the only time that you can truly find the best and worst in a person is during a time of conflict; that nothing other than a well-defined "us vs. them" can show you your humanity. I get shocked looks quite often for this point of view, but I have seen it proven too often to believe it is false.

Once again, great post.

Phil said...

When you first glance at that picture of the painting, it appears to be out of focus. But, if you stop and stare a little.... Hey, it's stabilizing. Wait... I can see it now. Depth. Skin tones. Detail. Lot's of detail. Oh yeah, I get it. Hey, how'd he do that?!?
Wait, I lost it a little... hold the camera still.....

Phil
Va Beach

jabbywock said...

The ocean...no place I would rather be.

Thanks for the trip!