Within These Walls

I like making the ugly things pretty; the broken things work again, and the unsymmetrical conform to my vision of symmetry. I enjoy watching the work I do on my own house improve its value. Even little things like getting a pretty porch light makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. There is nothing better than improving the quality of life by improving the water one has in ones house. At least that is how I feel right now. I just installed a water softener in my house. If you have never lives with hard water you cannot fully understand what it means to have rocks fall on you from your shower head. You cannot understand the pain of clean dishes caked with powdery white mineral deposits; or the embarrassment of having company bruise their hands when they go to wash up. The horror of a black toilet bowel, the expense of buying new faucets and shower heads and hoses whenever one wants to have company over. To go from that to the slippery bliss of clean water, soap that actually subs, dishes that sparkle, a dish washer that stays white and a shower head that sprays water in straight streams. I feel so rich because I'm doing 70% less cleaning and it feels so good! I also feel as if I've made the house worth improving further, which makes me happy because I love making the ugly things pretty, the broken things work again, and the unsymmetrical conform to my vision of symmetry.

The Life of Money

I sometimes wonder if the $20 I'm holding in my hand was ever owned by a Millionaire. I wonder what he used it for. Did he give it to the cashier at Starbucks for a Vinti Mocha Latte no foam with whipped cream and nutmeg and cinnamon sprinkles? Did he give it to a little girl selling lemonade by the roadside? Do Millionaires even carry cash? Why am I obsessing over what Millionaires do with their $20 bills you ask? Do you ever notice how $20 can seem like so much until you break it to buy lunch at $3.25? All of a sudden you no longer have $20, but a $10, a $5 a $1 and 3 quarters. The Quarters get lost somewhere, maybe you use the $1 to buy a couple stamps or a small drink somewhere; the $10 might buy a quarter tank of gas and then you just have $5 which you can't even use for a tip unless you ask the waiter to give you change and you know as soon as you do that it's bye bye $5 and your $20 was spent all in one day. I wonder if Millionaires have the same problem I do. I wonder, when I break my $20 at the Cash & Carry, if it later makes its way into the hands of someone with even less than I, if it is possible, and if it is then traded for cheap bread and canned fruit at the local Food Mart. I wonder if most people spend their money on things they need or on things they just think they need. Do most people know the difference? I wonder if I am taking well enough care of the money I do have because some who have so little cannot.

Starry Night

There are times when the cold does not disturb me. When there is rain and there are clouds I always feel a little down, but sometimes when it's cold I am inspired. There is something in the chill; something about the warm air rising up and leaving the cold air behind that brings to me a clarity of mind. It lasts only for a brief moment before I shiver and wrap myself against the cold, but in that moment there are stars in the clear black sky; the moon a close sharp contrast to the distant starry night. In that moment the wet pavement glistens in a bath of orange streetlight, and my breath hangs before me as a vapor slowly rising to the stars. For a brief moment I think I hear singing and see myself an invisible spec on the surface of a particle of dust in the vast universe.

The painting, Starry Night by VanGogh reminds me of this feeling in a strange way. As paintings go you might not consider this painting very clear, more of an impression. Sometimes I feel like an impression in the painting of life; walking around brashly sketched with flakes of pink and gold and brown. But when it gets cold like on that Starry Night, there is that moment of clarity and affirmation that makes my speckled impression'd life worth living.

If you haven't before I would encourage you to go through a book of classic paintings and find one that speaks to you, if it is possible to find just one. One thing I like about art is that I can let it leave an impression on me without letting myself hate it. I can appreciate even the negative feelings that come to me when I see some art. It takes a good artist to illicit a strong emotion from the audience.