I read over the last few posts and thought there was too much sex stuff going on. I really feel like expressing something beautiful today, like a tender poem, written from the heart. I just can’t think of anything. Sorry.
I searched on Google for a famous painting that I consider beautiful, a Gauguin or a Matisse, and I was going to just publish it as an example of beauty, but it just seemed stupid, publishing someone else’s famous painting.
A few weeks ago, Sophia and I were staying in a hotel, and on Saturday night, there was an Indian wedding. The women and men both wore such exotic clothes, multi-colored saris of the finest fabrics and rare silks for the women, and light-colored suits with intricate embroidery that enhanced the dark complexions of the Indian men.
Indian wedding clothes are beautiful.
I don’t find mountains as beautiful as grasslands. I think I would like living on a farm for a while. I really love rivers. Rivers are beautiful. The Brooklyn Bridge is beautiful. I would like to live by a brook. I really enjoy the sound of water moving, even when I’m standing in the shower. I can shower for an hour. I like to move around, letting the water hit me in different spots, listening to the shower spray off me at different angles, which changes the musical tone of the final splash.
I like that last line. It makes me laugh. The line isn’t beautiful, but laughter is.
There’s no point to this post. I like that. Not everything has to have a point. Like when you give a flower to a girl. What can she do with the flower? Not much other than look at it and enjoy the beauty.
I wish this post was more beautiful, like the sunset in Malibu or the leaves changing to orange in Vermont during the briskness of early Fall.
But I’m not God, so it isn’t easy.