Such an amazing experience last year, and so looking forward to this year. We have our tickets… do you?
26. I am thankful for beautiful architecture. I’m fascinated by building. Not the building I have done, which is none, or might do, which is also probably none, but by the amazing structures all around me. Capturing form, light, and harnessing the marriage between use and beauty, I am constantly in awe of form, everywhere. From amazing mid-century modern homes to the Natural History Museum in London, Tower Bridge to La Sagrada Familia in Spain, I’ve been lucky to see some wonderfully gorgeous buildings and structures. The minds of humans are fantastic and astounding.
Halfway through. I can’t believe this little exercise is going so fast, let alone how the month of November seems to be speeding by.
15. I’m thankful for photography. It is a vehicle for the passionate drive I have to create and allows me to see the world in ways I didn’t, before I picked up a camera, know were possible. It brings me joy and helps to fuel my awe for the wonder and magic all around us. Whether it’s snapping a picture with my iPhone or capturing an image with one of my Canons, I’m lucky to have found it and so very thankful I did.
We have no reason to harbor any mistrust against our world, for it is not against us. If it has terrors, they are our terrors; if it has abysses, these abysses belong to us; if there are dangers, we must try to love them. And if only we arrange our life in accordance with the principle which tells us that we must always trust in the difficult, then what now appears to us as the most alien will become our most intimate and trusted experience. How could we forget those ancient myths that stand at the beginning of all races, the myths about dragons that at the last moment are transformed into princesses? Perhaps all the dragons in our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us act, just once, with beauty and courage. Perhaps everything that frightens us is, in its deepest essence, something helpless that wants our love.
― Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet
I love words and this is a great one. Pronunciamento. Meaning… pro·nun·ci·a·men·to [pruh-nuhn-see-uh-men-toh, -shee-uh-] noun, plural pro·nun·ci·a·men·tos. a proclamation; manifesto; edict.
I came across this one today as I was looking around the dictionary. Or more precisely, in this new age, dictionary.com. It’s a wonderful word found in a wonderful place. Dictionaries are exciting, to me anyway. I’ve been reading them since I knew what one was and found one in our house. Words. Wonderful.
I used to play word games with some of my work mates. Emails going around with sentences made up of words with the same letter. Peter picked pickled peppers. Like that. We’d start with A and work our way to Z and back again, or we’d rhyme, or be cute some other way with wonderful wacky words. Fun, to us anyway. We’d stretch our minds, our vocabularies, and we’d laugh and laugh. Words are good like that.
Today as I looked around I came across this great word. Had never heard of it. And now I love it. I am also, I think, going to use it here. Make a pronunciamento about things I’d like to do this summer… a proclamation of sorts. Here, publicly, live and “in person”. Maybe if I put some things down here I will do some of them… maybe I already have. Maybe I would anyway. No matter… it’s a fun exercise.
(Riley is playing with her Uncle Kevin right now… he’s rubbing her belly, she’s growling, barking, and jumping up to wiggle around and play bite at him. She’s like popcorn. It’s cute. They missed each other.)
Anyway… back to the pronunciamento.
100 things to do this summer… and in life.
This is an amazing story about beauty, perception, art, and what we see, or don’t see, as we go about our daily lives. Do you stop and notice, enjoy, live in the moment with something beautiful or do you walk past without a glance, without a thought for what’s happening right in front of you. What would you do?
I have a high aesthetic. Meaning that I have an extreme sense of the beautiful. I don’t want to say that I can judge for others what is beautiful, but for myself I see beauty everywhere. I used to say I saw photographs in everything, which is true since that’s my medium, but really it’s more than that. My view of the world is filtered through my sense of beauty. And before all my friends and family start thinking to themselves about whether or not I’m judging how they look… that’s not it at all, and no, I’m not looking at you that way. Other than, I suppose, to see your inner beauty, which I do, but that’s a topic for another day. I’m talking about the world… people don’t factor in unless it’s a mass of them in a space and that particular scene is beautiful to me. Or a couple holding hands walking through the park. Beautiful. But again, I’m talking about space, architecture, nature, form, light, design, intention. I mean grace of movement, melody, warmth, a point of view.
Is this making sense?
I’ve never attempted to articulate this before, but yesterday I was looking at our living room. Simple. We both appreciate art, in many forms, and it’s evident in our space. The furniture is even sort of funky, which is part of it. We are eclectic, because we always get something because we love it, not because it’s what we should have to go with whatever else we have. We figure if we love something it will fit into the whole of what our place is. The vibe. We also believe in not having too much “stuff” so we try to keep things non-cluttered. It’s a balance of taste and style and funk and having our space feel a certain way. So I was looking at it and found myself thinking and feeling that a certain aesthetic sense fills it. It fills me. Anytime we go anywhere I see photographs. Not the usual panorama, though sometimes that’s so, but usually a part of something, the form of something, the way the light hits a particular thing. I notice. And I’m glad I do. It’s what happened yesterday as a certain winter light shone in through our living room window and hit part of a lamp. That’s all. Just a little light filtering in and hitting a part of lamp. It was stunningly beautiful.
I never get too busy to notice, never too rushed to notice, because even when I am busy or rushed I still notice as my eyes pass something. It’s wonderful. At least I feel as though it’s wonderful. I feel lucky to have this thing inside that naturally lets me see the larger, deeper, subtler things in life. The way a leaf blows across the street, the barking of a distant dog that sounds happy, the passing shapes in clouds, the shadows made by the rising of the sun. I sometimes feel these things so much I cry. Cry from a place of joy for having seen something so stunning. It used to embarrass me, but it no longer does. I feel privileged, and I wish more people stopped quietly and said to themselves…wow… that is beautiful. Whatever that may be. I think the world would be a better and more joyous place. How could it not be. It brings connection with things, connection with the larger world, makes a person feel small and a part of something bigger all at the same time. It brings a sense of peace, that things are as they should be for a moment, these brief snippets of time. It’s freeing in a way.
I feel fortunate, lucky, privileged, to see the world through these eyes… these eyes that see beauty in the smallest things all around me. And my hope is that you see it too…
Karen, the pups, and I took a walk a couple of days ago at our favorite local park, Meadowbrook. As we walked the path, looked at the natural prairie that’s been restored, and enjoyed the many sculptures and natural beauty along the way we had an epiphany…. this is big stuff people, so listen up.
We feel that as we age we should patina instead of wrinkle. How cool would this be? Instead of drying out and wrinkling up we would all slowly turn a lovely shade of green. Women would get upset because men would probably turn green more quickly. And since green would be the new “wrinkle free” this would be fodder for many a joke on the late night talk show circuit. There would be creams developed to give that certain special shine to your patina. But since we would patina and not wrinkle, we’d all look like we did when we were 21. Granted, sadly this would do nothing for the whole sagging thing, but hey… we can only solve one serious world issue per walk.
That’s it… our big ah ha moment. These are the conversations we have…
Enjoy some photos taken with our little Canon SD750 during the walk. Notice the woman… this is the sculpture that inspired the whole revelation.