on flowers and fearlessness …

A // W // F

I don’t know about you, but I’ve always loved flowers best just before their petals fall … 

  
It’s as if, in the final days of their existence, they decide — at last — to open fearlessly wide, in the most elegant disarray. 

They hide nothing. Hold nothing back …

And then they’re gone.

Today, I’m contemplating the bouquet of white tulips that a dear friend gave me, since they seem to be doing just that:

  
Ah, Lord… Teach me to be that open, always. ❤

27 Comments

    1. I love my little kitchen… That’s the window above the sink. Looks out into the most lush green beech tree and then the mountains beyond. The subway tiles I laid myself, with my dad’s help … It’s all those little things that make a home.

      Thanks for noticing. 🙂

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  5. Thank you for teaching me how to see flowers through different eyes today! I love your way of looking. I love that you see them fearlessly open and fully in bloom. I would probably look at the same bouquet and be disappointed that it was pretty much dead, then promptly throw it out, but you’re right – they are beautiful when I shift my perspective! Wishing you a lovely weekend, my friend!

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    1. I love watching the way things age and pass away … Guess I’m a little Wabi-Sabi that way. That isn’t too say I don’t miss these blooms already, but wow… What a process.

      I always love reading your comments here, beautiful girl. So encouraging. Thank you!! And happy weekend!! 🙂

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  7. An interesting perspective Alpha Zulu. I’m not sure I follow the idea of hovering on the brink of death always… (Though we most certainly do, unknowingly). Now, tulips? They don’t die. Plant or store away the bulbs and they will be re-born next year. (I like the rebirth perspective better) 😉 All is well?

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    1. I love the resurrection of certain flowers, too… That’s an image I’ll take, over and over. (Ah, our mutual favorite … Jonquils. Or daffodils, in the English. They truly do resurrect themselves forever).

      I’m not sure it has to be death, does it? I think you see that openness and vulnerability in certain humans, too, when they are about to pass from one season into the next… When they let go of who they were in one stage of life, and become someone new.

      Which is a kind of resurrection, after all. 🙂

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      1. Interesting. I’ve had people die “on me”, but I’m not sure I’ve ever seen people become someone new… In my my experience people never change. They only get worse… Allow me to mull on that. 🙂

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        1. Mull away … 🙂

          Who knows … Maybe it’s not even change, but a kind of awakening into what was there before, like a deep-rooted seed waiting for the right moment.

          As my friend Walt says, “I am large… I contain multitudes.” 🙂

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              1. Dune by Frank Herbert is quite a remakable work. But you have to like science-fiction. I read most part of the saga when I was in Colleg. Read everything (sopmetimes again) last year. I find it a great exercise in political science. But again, you need to like sci-fi. 🐭

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              3. Hmm. That is why I mentioned it. Most times, either you like or you hate SF. I used to read a lot of SF as a teen. Then somewhat dropped it and am going back to certain authors. With a different perspective. Who are your favourite authors?

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              4. I’ve spent years with a terrific artistic crush on Toni Morrison. I love Michael Ondaatje, too. And Kevin Powers. And Mary Oliver, of course, if we’re counting poetry. And Cummings. And Thoreau. All of my people have a bit of a mystical bent, I suppose, and often, an obsession with the past and its messy way of living among the present. 🙂

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              5. None of those I’ve read. Will add to reading list. Ondaatje wrote the english patient, right? And Powers is from Richmond… Hmmm. Need to go to the the nearest (and only) english bookstore. 🙂 As an aside, I was very surprised in San Francisco last week to see so few bookstores… 😦

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              6. I’d be fascinated to hear what you think of Ondaatje in particular. He can be quite surreal and strange, and tells stories in the most bizarre looping arcs… Very subliminal. I love him, but he’s not for everyone. The English Patient might be the most accessible of his fiction.

                Maybe it’s because I grew up in a military town, but Powers’ “The Yellow Birds” just took me apart for days, in the best and worst ways. It occasionally veers into moments of writerly indulgence and purple prose, but it is just achingly beautiful and awful, and I’d recommend it highly.

                It’s sad that Amazon has absolutely obliterated so many bookstores, isn’t it? Although you can’t beat the convenience …

                Happy reading!! 🙂

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