Click the link to listen to the song as you read: 525,600 minutes – how do you measure a season of life?
Whether I measure my life in love,
in Truth and the tears I cried,
or in rain, snow, sun and the way that he died…
…every season has been rich, beautiful and full of Life. So grateful for the way that is!
Life imitates Art; Art imitates Life. What’s the difference? Maybe Life and Art are one and the same or so intermingled that it’s impossible to separate them…like mayonnaise: egg, oil and vinegar bound together in one, smooth shmear.
Here are two pictures I took on the same day in New Mexico:
Statues in the city; real people in the wilderness. The fact that I put those photos side by side might say something about life…or art. They’re blended, see?
How about this one?
It’s a photograph of flowers on my dining room table. A still life. Is it still life? Those peonies were alive, right there in front of me. I took a picture, which I think looks a bit like a painting. That’s Art, but it looks a lot like Life. Our brains tend to blur symbol and substance. Try talking philosophy for a while: the words we use for concepts often supplant the concepts themselves. For example, the sign shows the words The Grand Canyon. Is the Grand Canyon the sign or the landscape behind it?
I love Art and Life; I love their blurred edges; I love their intermingled perspective. How fortunate to be able to play with both!
Life Imitates Art
There’s no such thing as Time. It’s not a thing; it is a concept. It tries to explain why we see change, which is a thing.
This difference is a change. Why did it change? Because the tree fell. When did it fall? Ah, now we need a concept for that moment and for the changes since that moment.
This looks different. This is a change. Is it about the time? 47 years doesn’t mean much. The changes mean a lot. There was a man, a husband, a father, a singer. Now, there is no man, no husband, no father, no song.
What about this change?
It might look like a change from what you’re used to, but some people see this every day. No change; no time.
In order to feel a sense of time at all, we need to be able to imagine what something was like before and how it’s changed.
And then we try to measure the rate of change. How long did it take for this to become something different?
We humans get to think about change and time because we have such big, big brains. Other species don’t. That gives us a huge amount of responsibility. We should be taking that seriously, noticing changes and imagining what the future might be like.
Good things are on the horizon. There’s a pink dawn behind the frost on my second story window.
I feel hopeful that the new day will be fair.
I believe we can always try to do better, that we don’t arrive, we practice.
With hard work and perseverance, we CAN clean up a mess and get things in better order. (I’ve lived here with Steve for 5 years; for the first time, we have all our clothes stored out of sight.)
I believe that ‘obstacles’ and ‘obligations’ are simply the wrong terms for ‘opportunities’. (My daughter quit her job and went back to college this week!)
I am an optimist, an idealist, and proud of it! The glass is waiting; FILL IT UP!
A is for Art, B is for Bernie, C is for “Comming Soon”…. and I didn’t follow this prompt to the letter in constructing my gallery. However, it raises some interesting questions, such as:
How many letters are in the Post Office in Embarrass, Wisconsin?
What does “Recombobulation” mean, anyway?
What do you make of the printed word?
And finally, what will be written on your grave marker?