By their very nature, epiphanies are supposed to be heaven-splitting moments of realization. Given that definition, I can’t really call my recent awakening an epiphany because I have certainly learned this before, and probably one time before that, and most likely even a couple of other times before that.
But for me, I need to hear things over and over and through different voices and mediums. In this instance, something about the way Neil Gaiman summed it all up with, ‘Make Good Art‘, helped me really hear this. Maybe it’s being in France right now, where my life has slowed to such a leisurely and receptive pace, or maybe it’s because I’m older or maybe it’s simply because it was time to hear it again…Make Good Art.
For me, art is beauty and form and creativity and aesthetics and some intangible that I can’t quite name. But I started this morning with breakfast. Kevin made perfectly soft-boiled eggs and toasted some baguette that he buttered with the golden delight that the French call butter (which in no way resembles what I have tasted previously in my life). I cut up the grapefruit, arranged it beautifully and ate it slowly. Oh my.
And then I dressed with a scarf and a shiny necklace and declared myself beautiful. Considering that as a teenager and young woman I was barely capable of looking at myself in a photo because I was so convinced of my ugliness, these last few years of really paying attention to my clothes and accessories, is in itself, an act of noble defiance and a declaration of love…for me.
We drove to the nearby Stes. Maries de la Mer where we walked down the sandy promenade. We saw several umbrellas blow and turn while various children chased after them, we watched flamingoes do their pink routine in the salty marshes and a gazillion white horses graze.
The landscape was a movie, a beautiful wind-blown gauzy movie.
We had lunch at a lovely little seaside restaurant called La Cave a Huitres (The Oyster Cellar).
We ordered tellinnes in aioli. Oh my.
And we ordered escargot de la mer. Oh my.
We ordered pommes frites. Oh my.
We had glasses of rose, crisp, dry and fresh to cut the garlicky creamy seafood heaven. It was beautiful. We licked our fingers and smiled.
We came home and I cut a few white roses, placed them in a wavy blue glass vase and put them in the bathroom so it would be the last thing we see at night and the first thing we see in the morning.
And then I decided to write this post, doing my very best to make good art by writing into sentences the thoughts that I’d been mulling most of today.
And now I’ll do my daily 30-minute meditation and know that this day has been a blessing (and we haven’t even got to dinner).
I saw Gandhi’s quote the other day; “Action expresses priorities.”
Yes they do. Today my actions were carefully chosen and reflected my choice to make a beautiful life.
I choose to add beauty to my day.
Gorgeous photos, Colleen, much to savour in this post!
Thanks Lesley. I’m having so much fun taking photos. There is no shortage of subject matter.
I always love your writing – and your connection to your spirit flows through your words.
Oh MY! I shall plan to visit Frances just to experience that “beautiful, wind-blown gauzy movie”! Thank you!
Karen, your comment came at the exact right moment! Thank you. I needed to hear those words.
There are days when it feels like I’m just throwing words into the ether and I start to wonder why I’m doing it at all…so thank you very much for your excellent timing. Onward!
You do not throw, girl, you FLOW!! And we in the ether are here, loving every word.
It’s lovely that the ether catches your words. I joyously await MORE!
Thank you for sharing your beautiful day – very inspiring. I like Ghandi’s quote too. Each day I choose to make it a beautiful day. I had an amazing day at the NY Botanical Garden yesterday, started with Vinyassa Yoga, a 2 hr walk in the forest, sharing food with strangers but willing to exchange experiences, a lovely walk through the Monet and the Rose Gardens, tons of photos and gifts of peace and serenity which I brought back with me home. I will never forget my alone walk from the Rose Garden through the Azalea Garden and making it to the train station. I almost met nobody but it seems that all the birds, squirrels and chip monks which I did not encounter during my earlier walk in the forest, wanted to remind me that the gardens I was stepping into was their home.
Francesca, it sounds like you had your own inspiring day 🙂 Sounds like a beautiful garden-filled day. Thank you so much for visiting and sharing your story.
The Monet and Rose gardens sound like places I need to add to my “must-visit” list!
A beautiful post on the very atmospheric Stes. Maries de la Mer. The Black Virgin, the white horses and the sea make the Camargue a very magical place.
Michele, Thank you for your lovely comment. It’s so nice that you have been here and ‘know’.
The church with St. Sara and the two Saintes Maries, the incredible amount of horses and the wind are a heady combination. I had no idea we were moving to such cowboy (ish) country.
Heavenly. Heaven, in my mind, is like your day was today. Appreciating all. The wind. The children. The food. The flowers. The Company. White roses, white horses……..
Thank you,
Karen
Karen. You’re right. Days when I am paying attention and appreciating everything is truly the definition of Heaven.
I have been known, on too many occasions, to create Hell in my world too. Wrong attitude. Wrong results…
Thank you for making a poem out of my post…It’s so clean the way you’ve summed it up: The wind. The children. The food…
Beautiful, Colleen. I especially love the quote “Action expresses priorities.” I suspect you’ll see me using that in a blog post of my own one day soon.
Sharry, I’m so glad you’ll be using the quote too. I was reminded of it when I saw it on my cousin’s Facebook page. He is always a good source for new thoughts for me 🙂
It sums it up so perfectly for me. Kind of like, Walk the Talk, only much nicer.
I have met too many people who tell me what they’re about and don’t realize that they’re demonstrating something completely opposite. Unfortunately, I can often include myself in that description. …
We reveal more than we know, eh? (and that was my Canadian revelatory expression with the ‘eh’)