Winter Takes Hold

I have nothing against opulence. I love silk scarves, nice clothes (though I eventually spill tea or splatter tomato sauce on everything), an excess of life's accessories stuffed into closets and corners. The trick with any system—capitalism, socialism, trade-and-barter, utopianism—is to ensure that outward opulence is a projection of —not substitute for — the soul and psyche of individuals in that society. Has this ideal ever been achieved?

We seem to be a long way from this today, the dawn following another mass murder fueled by hate, an opulence of metal and bullets and blood that is, alas, closer to the projection of our broken souls and gaunt psyches. It is easy to walk down Madison Avenue in Manhattan and blame the mass-marketed, sterile opulence of the window displays for everything that is wrong in ourselves.

Well-dressed mannequins watch as winter takes hold; well-dressed mannequins watch as we lose hold.

Shadow Ways

Things seem to go from worse to I-can't-believe-this-has-gotten worse. Still, one can walk out-of-range of any electronic or print media and find at least a moment of respite. Beauty abounds, despite the human propensity to destroy what is beautiful. The natural world continues to amaze, and artists continue to provide inspiration.

Each of us must remember to allow some time for shadows, for the quiet time out of the sun or spotlight or screen or glare of anything glare-y. It's not "going dark," but taking time to look within, or aside, or down. A time to see patterns, juxtapositions, opposites, alternatives. Beauty in unexpected places. Reason to take another step or half-step forward.

Onward we go.

*

river view—
returning to my
shadow ways