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like a net of stars

In fact, a dandelion, up close and personal.

beauty before me, beauty behind me, beauty to the right of me, beauty to the left of me, beauty above me, beauty below me

Well, this week, I sure do feel surrounded by beauty.  If you follow this blog even a little, you know I feel that way most of the time, but this week I’m experiencing beauty with a capital B especially with Somerville Open Studios 2012 taking place.  If you are in the area, I hope you will take the opportunity to visit the amazing artists creating great beauty throughout the city.  Here’s a link to all of the general event information.

silk + roses

What happens when you stumble upon a basket of silk scarves …

Sacred Works in Glass

Of late, I’ve been fortunate enough to visit Boston’s Cathedral of the Holy Cross, the mother church of the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Boston.  It is a beautiful historic structure in the vibrant neighborhood of South Boston.  You can learn more about the people and place via this link.  Meanwhile, here’s a peek at some of the imagery to be found in the interior.  Enjoy.

light/dark in old words

In an old journal, I found the following words.  Perhaps one day I will polish them, but even a bit rough, I feel inclined to share them, paired with some new images.  I suppose I should be sharing a poem, given that it’s Put a Poem in Your Pocket Day, but perhaps there is poetry embedded in these words and images. 

Journal Entry:  Several friends think that I never go to the dark places. That I always see the light in the world. The glass is always at least half-full.  Lemons can always be turned into tasty lemonade.  There is no dark so dense where some bit of brightness cannot be found.  At such accusations, I usually say nothing or  I perhaps point out the beauty of fallen petals upon the ground. I do not to say with indignation, you are wrong because I do go to the dark places. Don’t we all?  I do not say, I have seen the dark clouds descend from once-bright skies and settle over once-clear roads.  Haven’t we all?  But, for me, you know what always happens … even upon the darkened road … eventually?  Winds come and blow the clouds away.  If there is a lingering dark fog, the sun rises and burns it to a cooling mist, refreshing upon the skin. When I’m in the darkest place, pitch black, I don’t always see the light but I know it’s there somewhere.  It has to be. I can feel it even if I cannot see it.  Don’t the blind feel the sun on their faces?

Maybe that’s why I write, why I photograph.  To show that no matter how dark, light penetrates and reveals certain glories. In the contrasts, the shadows created, the silhouettes that emerge, unique beauty is revealed. That is what I want to convey, in whatever medium feels right in the moment.  The simple beauty in this life.

I do not want to ignore the dark, or the fears that spring to life though I may not always share such fears with friends.  I will walk the dark roads until the sun rises.  I will carry a flashlight or a lit candle and if these items should fail then I will take a deep breath and raise my eyes to the sky and focus on the tiny beacons of the stars.  And who knows, I might even see a sliver of moon. All I know is I may walk in the dark – we all do at some point in our lives — but I will not stay there.  I will not.

I blinked first.

A furry friend seen while walking through the Boston Public Garden this week.

The results of an impromptu walk around my neighborhood.  I have to admit, I got a bit lost.  Many hours later, my feet still hurt.  But it was worth it, I think. 😉

Today I was a bit housebound with various projects.  Still, the sunlit landscape called to me on many an occasion. As I have written before I am lucky to live in an old house well-kept in its old style with many windows of ancient rippled glass on all sides, some of which are double and even triple paned.  It is both exhilarating and calming to move from pane to pane, over time, and try to capture an ever-shifting beauty from sunrise to sunset.