Wednesday, May 09, 2007

EXULTESCENCE?

Tomorrow's my birthday, and I will be at the very extreme of being "thirty something". Life's good, but it's been missing certain things. In some cases, I have no idea whether these are good things or bad things to lack.

Broken River by Ruary Allan, Art Alchemist

1. I've never been engaged, married, or owned property.
2. I've never owned a car, or driven to work. In fact, I've never commuted to work in a commuter train either, in the sense of packing myself in, reading Metro and wishing it would all go away. I once did a reverse commute for a couple of years. When the weather's warm, I cycle to work now.
3. I've never been to Ikea, or bought furniture from Habitat. I once had a friend help me put up some shelves in the early 90s. It was good to see all my books (which are now lost to me - in eternal storage) but it didn't make me into a DIY enthusiast.
4. As an adult, I've never believed fully in any "ism"s. Buddhism has a strong appeal, but I'm not very good at it, and I stop short at myths of reincarnation, gods and demons.
5. I have never really had anyone to vote for in the sense that a radical green alternative has never been available. I remember shaking Blair's hand on that sunny morning in Downing Street (May 2 1997) but his record means that I will never again believe promises of change from young, gifted politicians.
6. Finally, although I appreciate clever art (most recently in some of the witty prose in Gormenghast) I'm still more into directness than sophistication, especially in real life.

Mandala by Olyfka Brabcova

I was sent this quotation today. It's Kenneth Graeme talking about children: "their simple acceptance of the mood of wonderment, their readiness to welcome a perfect miracle at any hour of the day or night, is a thing more precious than any of the laboured acquisition of adult mankind." Is this something you inevitably lose? It seems like a good way to live. Every time I leave my flat and the outside air hits my face, I exult in the sensation.

Weltschmerzen? Manchmal, aber:
"...it's hard to stay mad, when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once, and it's too much, my heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst... And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain and I can't feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life... You have no idea what I'm talking about, I'm sure. But don't worry... you will someday." Lester Burnham in American Beauty.

5 comments:

plymouth rock said...

"Life's good, but it's been missing certain things."

About the above sentence, I feel the need to draw your attention to your own usage of the present perfect continuous. It makes a world of difference!! Imagine what a different (and more depressing) slant there'd have been, if you'd written in the present perfect.

Anyway, all the things you mention in your post are what make you so 'you'.

Happy Birthday for tomorrow xx

Neil said...

Thanks. I'll continue to live in the present perfect and not hanker too much. Just like a good Buddhist.

Unknown said...

You do not necessarily lose the ability to thrill to small miracles, but the sad fact is that there are fewer such surprises as you get older. You have seen so many shining dewdrops on so many leaves that you become used to the sight and no longer react in the same way.Your heart is still alive to beauty but you need new miracles. Perhaps travel is the answer.

Unknown said...

I love R's painting. Is it done in acrylics? The colours and style remind me very much of an exhibition of Russian enamelled boxes I saw in Edinburgh some years ago.

Neil said...

Travel, yes. And sensual pleasure. The thrill has never really worn off for me. It's just a matter of waking up to what's going on, and not being too preoccupied.

R paints in oils. Have a look at his site (links on the right). But this one's my favourite - goes with my "sailing little boats" song about the isolated ego