Infatuation sets in and it's all I can do to function normally in the presence of whatever it is which has grabbed me and refused to let go. It's not mania, it's life. And life is beautiful.
And while I feel feel like I might be exaggerating a little bit, if I'm honest with myself, I know that I'm not exaggerating. This happens rather frequently.
Young emotions are stirred up and I'm excited.
It's inspiration. It's your muse banging pieces of flint together in a desperate attempt to start a creative fire in your mind, and if you have one, your soul.
Sometimes you see something and it's just beautiful, and there's no other way to say it.
While you actively recognize how beautiful this thing is, and you want to share it with people, you know nobody else will ever see it the same way you do. When you experience whatever is inspiring you, you bring your own baggage, your own history, your own experience, hopes, hates, loves and set of prejudicial notions to the table, whether you like it or not.
There's no way I can possibly hope for you to experience the same thing in the same way I do. It's just not possible. We can agree on traits, qualities and intent. We can agree or disagree on the pros and cons. But we cannot experience it the same.
Every wonderful thing you find beautiful is something you can't possibly hope for people to feel exactly the same way about. Not the person who created it (if it was indeed actively created), and not anyone else who will ever experience it.
Sometimes things just blow your mind.
This blows my mind:
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Isn't she beautiful?
Isn't what she's doing just beautiful?
Isn't everything about this just goddamn wonderful?
I can't tell you how much I geeked out inside when I first saw this.
Partially for the sake of the piece (did I mention that it's beautiful?), but partially because I had been pondering new tattoo ideas. I was pretty sure that I wanted to incorporate such a candle, but didn't know how to go about it. I like this, though, and it has given me a few things to think about in regards to a new design.
The Poem, "First Fig," is by Edna St. Vincent Millay ( what a cool name).
I was familiar with the poem, though not much else of Millay's work.
Some people are into poetry for poetry's sake, and while I respect that, I don't really get it. Enjoying poetry for poetry's sake is like enjoying a cake because it's a rectangle (or not a rectangle) and sometimes you get the benefit of it being tasty.
I say fuck that. I say the shape is irrelevant. Writing is about content, and prose delivers. Prose is more effective and is more challenging as a writer and rewarding as a reader than poetry...
...90% of the time.
But the rest of the time, you've got "A Psalm of Life" and "First Fig" to contend with.
I'm sorry, Prose old buddy. Poetry wins this round.
This is a print is a linocut by artist Mandy May Laschon.(That's a pretty cool name, too.)
This is her Etsy shop.
And this is her webpage.
I thank her for creating this experience, having an amicable conversation, and reserving and selling me a print.
Wow.
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