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Where I’ve been
1
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Psst: Secret posts
If it's true and you've never told anyone about it, put it on a postcard and send it to Post Secrets.
In any case, go see what others have posted. It's a must-see! Today’s inspiration
"To live content with small means;
to seek elegance rather than luxury,
and refinement rather than fashion;
to be worthy, not respectable,
and wealthy, not rich;
to listen to stars and birds, babes and sages, with open heart;
to study hard;
to think quietly,
act frankly,
talk gently,
await occasions,
hurry never;
in a word, to let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious, grow up through the common.
This is my symphony."
-- William Henry Channing
Dopa-me
The brilliance of the movie lay in the parallel drawn between the "insane" and the sane -- and the contrast between appreciation and complacency. It leaves me to question who is really sick here: the patients who, upon awakening, marvel at every little miracle that graces every single one of each of our days...or the rest of us, who take it all for granted. Sure, every now and then we all wake up and realize how wonderful life really is -- but it seems we all go to sleep again, becoming oblivious to the miracle of common things.
Toward the film's end, the doctor addresses his colleagues:
"What we do know is that, as the chemical window closed, another awakening took place; that the human spirit is more powerful than any drug -- and THAT is what needs to be nourished: with work, play, friendship, family. THESE are the things that matter. This is what we'd forgotten -- the simplest things."
I've been feeling dreary lately, and I think maybe I need to wake up again.
Gender error?
So I signed up for free haircare samples from Sunsilk, but not without a glitch.
After I clicked "submit," I got the following message:
Please correct the following error:
Click here to correct any errors.
I wonder what errors they can correct? This must be good stuff.
After I clicked "submit," I got the following message:
Please correct the following error:
| - Invalid Gender |
Click here to correct any errors.
I wonder what errors they can correct? This must be good stuff.
Fruity shadows
I wasn't really fond of this at first -- too round -- but the apple has, well, grown on me.
Oh, and the shadows in the lower corners were not drawn...I really need a new camera.
Kimberly, almost finished
She is still a work in progress (aren't we all?), but my portrait of her is almost done...
Kimmy, also a work in progress
I'm pretty sure the dog she's holding will give me fits. He is jet black.
Citrus mysteries
Making mixed drinks last summer, I discovered something quite curious.Lemon slices float, while lime slices do not.
I don't know why.
Life in a sensory deprivation tank
True, a fresh winter snow -- the puffy kind that's impossibly light and sparkles blue under the streetlights -- is among the most beautiful gifts nature bestows.
But we get too much of a good thing up here.
And that pristine sparkle always melts into a semi-solid mass of mush, mottled with a color best described as gray-brown, that builds up behind a car's mudflaps and soaks through the thickest boots.
So most of winter is a collage of gray: gray in the sky, gray on the ground, gray on the cars, gray in the brain. No wonder that this time of year, I crave a different kind of natural beauty.
Color. (Tulips. Erratic dandelions. Bright green of springtime leaves.)
Smell. (Freshly mown grass. Unlikely, happily stubborn hyacinths.)
Sound. (Birds! Crickets! Children playing kickball.)
No wonder an art class is such a good idea (particularly) at this time of year. Even just my amateurish sketches help break the bleak spell. And it gets me out into the gray long enough to enjoy time with a friend.
And, of course, friendship is a kind of beauty, too.