Looking for beauty in the banal
I am trying to train myself to look for the beautiful things first. There is so much ugliness, so much spite and anger. At this very moment, there are people torturing other people, smuggling guns across borders, denying others life-saving drugs, building walls that strangle any attempt at a peaceable solution, there are adults spreading hateful messages to their children, there are children being born into a cycle of poverty and there are governments who are unwilling to invest in their own future. I don't want to be a part of that. I made a comment to someone the other day that I can't seem to see in colors, not with the clarity that I would like, that my lens is one of melancholy. I think I need a lens adjustment. I believe that we should teach ourselves to truly love other people, more than we already do, more than seems possible. Perhaps I love too easily, perhaps that is my downfall, but, that is the way I am.
Here is my (feeble) attempt at seeing the world through rose-colored glasses, through eyes of love. I want to believe in the resilience of the human spirit, and as I have spent the weekend cleaning the house (not without help) from top to bottom (sorely needed) I was reminded that home is a beautiful place, or at least it can be, it should be. Especially when it is filled with friends to feed (recipes to follow).
Here is my (feeble) attempt at seeing the world through rose-colored glasses, through eyes of love. I want to believe in the resilience of the human spirit, and as I have spent the weekend cleaning the house (not without help) from top to bottom (sorely needed) I was reminded that home is a beautiful place, or at least it can be, it should be. Especially when it is filled with friends to feed (recipes to follow).
posted by ilana at 11:41 p.m.
4 Comments:
No sé si resulte ridículo mi comentario pero siempre me ha parecido un don el lograr ver el mundo desde la perspectiva intermedia de lo melancólico (sentimiento que, siento yo, irradian las fotografías con que nos premias hoy). El punto de vista gris hace que quienes lo ven todo negro no abusen (sin oposición) del poder que les da el miedo, ese terror que le meten a los pobres que todo lo ven rosa.
Yo no soy psicólogo ni mucho menos, pero me encanta la contraposición de la mezuza (muy linda, por cierto) con la maceta/máscara de diablo mexicana, y creo que dice mucho de ti... Habrá que seguir leyéndote para averiguar exactamente qué.
I love that your lantern is covered in cobwebs. I love that it is actually on display!
I think you're on track to viewing the world through rose-colored glasses -- keep your focus on the multitude of pink small things, and you'll notice that your black and white worldview will turn to sepia, then technicolor.
I love you, sweetie.
Yuré: ¿por qué ridículo? (pareciera que estás apenado hoy;) Agradezco, de veras, tu apreciación. Y no sé por qué pero me entra una imagen caricaturesca de un lobo feroz frente a un conejillo atemorizado, y el oficial en medio, intrépido camarógrafo, vestido de khaki con una mano en la boca del lobo y la otra sobando al pobrecito conejo... (no hay contenido "off-color', lo juro).
Otrova: si vieras mi casita, la máscara está justo al lado de la mezuza, de hecho, salvo la primera y última, las demás fotos se podrían haber clasificado bajo el rubro "En el umbral de mi puerta". La mezuza es de Italia (vidrio soplado -"marano"). La máscara/ maceta nos la hizo un amigo titiritero que aprendió a tallar madera en Michoacán hace 25 años. Él es italiano americano, su hijo medio peruano, pero es de los mexicanófilos más ardientes que conozco. Creo que notas la contradicción que yace en mi fondo, no sé quién soy, ni quiero saber, soy una colección de experiencias vividas, sentidas y padecidas. Y amo la vida a pesar de sufrirla. Ésa es mi identidad.
Jenny: I know I could write this in Spanish, but we so rarely communicate in it, it feels funny (although I was just looking through the photo album with pictures from Monte Albán and our chance meeting, and reliving the amazing and needed encounter in Oaxaca). You are my technicolor dream-coat darling. I don't know if I will ever get there, I'd be happy with Sepia on a regular basis (that's where I find myself these days). And... I love you too:)
Un abrazo a todos el día de hoy, me voy con la nena a la alberca.
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