Monet and Vermeer, and 2) when a Hy-Art looks, at first glance, like it is one painting. (This one I'm tempted to name all sorts of things, like "The Last Lunch" but I fear to be smote from heaven. Catholic childhoods die hard.)
Yesterday I felt to be slowly reconnecting the experience of God that I felt temporarily removed from, like I'd tripped over an electrical cord and had trouble replugging the socket in the dark. It came back in the simplest of moments. I was walking down the street, and I saw several store windows.
One was a wig store, with this ridiculous "before" and "after." Now that I think about it, even though it wasn't a prop store, I have to believe they were marketing to costume designers. Could anyone really think they looked better on the right, unless they were trying to infiltrate the Amish?
And later, I came across another store window, the one right above, a clothing boutique near my house, with the slogan: "Sometimes catastrophes become trophies." Sort of a hi-falutin' way of saying when you got lemons, make lemonade, but I so appreciate any attempts to come up with original new ways to rephrase the truth that does underlie old cliches.
And what struck me, in both windows, was the sincerest attempts to market their products. And instead of store windows, I saw businesses, businesses that represented the most passionate dreams and desires of the men and women who found them, nurtured them, grew them, put heart and soul into them.
And I decided to look at every store window, every business I passed, not as mere commercial enterprises, but dreams. There's a novel that could be written about every one of them.
For me, that's the kind of thinking that expresses my relationship with God, a willingness to color the everyday with spirit, to see what is and then to perceive what also is but not evident to the naked eye. When I stay in that place, it's magic.
I'm off the brunch with handsome JT from Denver, in on a layover. I'm kind of excited.
MCO 2008
There's a line in Alice Walker's, "The Color Purple," that observes that God doesn't like it when you walk by the color purple and take no notice of it. Your description of your experience of God reminds me of that line. When I take notice of the small pieces of living that the world constatnly reveals is when I feel most spiritual.
The Vermeer and Monet really come together and it does appear to be one painting at first glance. I like this a lot and think that it should be added to the next card collection.
The wig store before and after is a hoot. The window designer must have had a sense of humor.
"The wig store before and after is a hoot. The window designer must have had a sense of humor." One would hope so Sheria. Otherwise someone should have a word with him about his 'talent'. :)
Were you a part of JT's "layover" Marc?