#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream
Flight
“. . . Emerging in the 15th century as a reaction to the prevailing aesthetic of lavishness, ornamentation, and rich materials, wabi-sabi is the art of finding beauty in imperfection and profundity in earthiness, of revering authenticity above all. In Japan, the concept is now so deeply ingrained that it’s difficult to explain to Westerners; no direct translation exists.
Broadly, wabi-sabi is everything that today’s sleek, mass-produced, technology-saturated culture isn’t. It’s flea markets, not shopping malls; aged wood, not swank floor coverings; one single morning glory, not a dozen red roses. Wabi-sabi understands the tender, raw beauty of a gray December landscape and the aching elegance of an abandoned building or shed. It celebrates cracks and crevices and rot and all the other marks that time and weather and use leave behind. To discover wabi-sabi is to see the singular beauty in something that may first look decrepit and ugly.
Wabi-sabi reminds us that we are all transient beings on this planet—that our bodies, as well as the material world around us, are in the process of returning to dust. Nature’s cycles of growth, decay, and erosion are embodied in frayed edges, rust, liver spots. Through wabi-sabi, we learn to embrace both the glory and the melancholy found in these marks of passing time. . . “
~ Excerpt from Wabi-Sabi: The Art Of Imperfection, by Robyn Griggs Lawrence, from Natural Home, Utne Reader
Christmas Eve Day began with mild weather, and still, a fine palette of snow, and the pure, refreshing element of ice on the river’s edge and the brook. For ease of bending and taking pictures, I simply wore my boots when I went out and sloshed happily along. I was passing the wetlands when the two stalks of dry brown grass on snow caught my attention: a bird in flight, I thought. Later, I found a comment on my Instagram feed from my friend Justin: “Wabi-Sabi.” And, I didn’t know what it was referring to, but I guessed it would be something lovely and satisfying, and just now I looked it up and found that it is something wonderful. A special treat: beautiful simplicity, for a Christmas Eve meditation. Our Thursday poetry workshop was canceled, and I was disappointed, but, also relieved, as I needed the time for holiday preparations. I baked three batches of cookies to share with neighbors and friends. My brother came by and dropped a gift, and I was glad to see him, even from a distance, as we have spent Christmases together forever and there is so much change this year. So much simplicity, really, a very good kind of simple beauty to appreciate. Tonight, my youngest and I followed our tradition, got out a few children’s Christmas books we love and read them aloud to my other daughter and it was sweet, simple, delicious. The rain has been pounding the house now for hours, and the wind has started howling. This too, these lovely sounds of earth’s weather, are a lovely Christmas Eve music to fall asleep to. For all my readers, all of you who celebrate this holiday, I am wishing you the peace and transcendence of a beautiful simplicity for Christmas. Thanks for being here with me.
Brook Running