My usual response to a settling of plans is to rearrange the spaces in which I daily exist. It’s a reordering, not so much of my physical world, as of the ideals dictating its shape. The flow of color and picture, the lay of scarf or angle of a candle flame is a framing in of the space where my soul creates and spirit contemplates. For me, a central part of this framing is the pictures I choose to look at day after day after day. They are windows into the thoughts I want to think, the beauties I choose to color the images of my inmost mind.
As I shape heart and soul right now for a renewed determination to write, I find myself especially choosy about the pictures on my wall, each one a tiny window into some strange and wondrous world. I believe with all my heart that the pictures, the books, the music, the rituals with which I surround myself deeply shape my whole mode of existence. There is no neutral way of being. To ignore my atmosphere would still be to create one, however empty. For me, the pictures that I choose for my room especially influence me. They meet my gaze every morning, companion me in quiet, hover near as I write.
So, for fun, a tiny tour of my personal (and ever changing) gallery of art and the reasons I love these pictures (I’ll post several over the next few days). Here are the first three:
And now, all my idealistic friends, what pictures frame in your life?
More beauty to come…