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SAINTS AND POETS
I'm an addict in search of my next hit. The substance I'm addicted to isn't hard to find, but it can be elusive and you have to keep an eye out for it. I suffer when I can't get me some, and I have been known to spend money and time searching for it. Luckily, there are so many forms of the thing I crave that I don't usually have to go too long inbetween highs. It never gets old, that blast of euphoria that sets me spinning, that raises the hair on the back of my neck, that dilates my pupils and oxygenates my blood with adrenaline.

Beauty. That's my drug.

I look for it. I listen for it. Sometimes I wait for it to come to me and sometimes I seek it out.

They say that every snowflake is different. If that were true, how could the world go on? How could we ever get up off our knees? How could we ever recover from the wonder of it? Jeanette Winterson

It can be words. Poetry, essays, short stories, novels, a journal entry (or many), a phrase here, a thought there. Writing that makes me stop and read it twice. Thrice. Snippets I copy into my commonplace books, a selection of passages that stun and hold me, that bring me back, that send a shudder through me.

You were made and set here to give voice to this, your own astonishment. Annie Dillard

It can be images. Paintings, sketches, photos, watercolors, collage, illustrations, design, repeating patterns. A movement of chiaroscuro, the play of light and dark, the dance of nuanced shading. Colors that blend and delight. Unexpected juxtapositions. Imagination given form and breath. Curliques and calligraphy.

There was nothing to do but wait. ...All for that one electric, pulse-revving vision when the universe suddenly declares itself. A ravishing tug on the sleeve of our mortality. Diane Ackerman

It can be sound. Music in all its myriad melodies. The singing strings of violins. Intertwining, looping harmony, a soaring soprano. The liquid trill of a blackbird or the hushing lullaby buzz of evening insects. The pounding drum of heavy rain, or the hypnotic rushing of water over edges.

After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the unexpressable is music. Aldous Huxley

Often it's something alive, something pulsating with breath and laughter and life. My children's cheeks, their eyelashes, the bridge of a baby's nose. The smooth, mottled bark of a sycamore tree in the rain, its trunk studded with snails. The cloud-baby white-petaled arch of a double row of pear trees in spring. A cat curled in sunlight, a wheeling, shifting flock of birds, the whorled and wonderful architecture of a seashell.

...Miracles occur, if you care to call those spasmodic tricks of radiance miracles. The wait's begun again, the long wait for the angel, for that rare, random descent. Sylvia Plath

It's out there. I can't wait to find it again. I'll greet it with a smile.

A Very Few of the Amazing and Beautiful Things I've Seen in My Life: the Alhambra, the glass flowers at Harvard Museum, the Grand Canyon, the Passion Play in Oberammergau, the Pageant of the Masters in Laguna Beach, Michelangelo's Pietà, Chicago's skyline during a lightning storm, Keukenhof in full bloom, sunset over Santorini, Murillo's Immaculate Conception at the Prado in Madrid.

Booty-Shaking Belly-Laughing Bouncing Birthday Wishes to purrthecat!
 relaxed
mood: relaxed
music: T'Pau—Heart & Soul


Comments

This was *BEAUTIFUL* to read. Thank you for being such a wonderful writer and for bringing constant beauty into my life.

Thank YOU for your wonderful photography :)

Hear! Hear! and Seconded! Man, can I relate to this post. I feel like my whole life is keeping one eye open for beauty and the other eye ready to capture it. And don't even get me started on beautiful sounds, smells, tastes. I am a aesthetist to the core.

And by the way, I am TOTALLY HONORED that one of MY PICTURES (my picture!) found its way into your sphere of beauty. Thank you so much for that.

I love your photography :)

It has TOTALLY rocked! :) *BIG HUG*

Thank you! :)

(no subject) - (Anonymous)

:) you're welcome! I spent an awful lot of time on this one! :O

Wonderful links.

There would have been more, but I ran out of time :)

(Anonymous)
Call 911!

*sprawled on my back, overwhelmed, trying to breathe*

GOD. What a beautiful amazing fabulous post--- SO much beauty and light I cannot absorb it all . . so I hope you don't mind if I just lie here in your comment box for a few weeks to let it all wash over me . . . you are so coool AND? your children's cheeks are totally edible! ~bluepoppy

Re: Call 911!

You're welcome to hang out in my comment box as long as you like. Can I get you a link drink?

(Anonymous)
oh and . .

I am SUCH an ill-mannered cow *thump on my head* . . . please know I am HONORED that you included me in this blog decoupage of beauty links . . . ~bluepoppy

Re: oh and . .

You deserve it :) *mwah!*

(Anonymous)

Beautiful post, Liz...and I haven't even clicked on any of the links yet. Clearly you do keep an eye out for beauty, as your stunning descriptions of landscape never fail to knock me out. I'm one of those dorks who's completely in awe of nature...but doesn't know the names of things. So I love to read the posts where you so beautifully mix language with landscape. This was a lovely way to start my Saturday morning. ~Marilyn

I didn't used to know the names of things either, and it bothered me mightily. Now I make a habit of looking things up whenever I can. It adds so much flavor, I think!

Good thing your also a dealer in this drug. Thanks for the hit.

Ha! I never thought of that! Good one :) And you're welcome :)

Ooo, a linky post! I can stop feeling guilty about mine, and enjoy exploring someone else's! ;-)

*bookmarks like crazy*

Guilt, schmuilt! :D

Oh, liz, what a gift!! I haven't clicked the links yet, either, but I wrote down the Annie Dillard quote and stuck it in my purse. You always have an eye for beauty and you celebrate it, and that's just one more reason to luhve you. You help shed light, always.

stop it, you're making me blush. :) If you don't click on anything else, click on the essays link. It's my very favorite Annie Dillard essay.

November 2019
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