The Stuff That Life is Made Of

Today, I feel the need, once again, to create beauty – but this time not because I want to balance the world out – not because I feel the world lacks it. I simply want to create beauty because it is in my soul to do so. Because I can. Because it would bring me joy – and perhaps others too.

But there is a problem. It is 21:35 at night, and the baby has only recently gone to bed. I am exhausted and in need of an early night (when am I not these days?) So, I’m wondering how I can create this masterpiece of beauty in the short time I have available to me now.

And I’m wondering about the power of words to evoke this masterpiece I kind of have in my head – a giant sculpture I think it is – so that maybe you, my readers, can imagine it – and make it all your own. Which is what great art (in my opinion) should enable people to do anyway.

I am thinking almost formless – lumps of clay – but indented with the pressure of hands that have been and gone. The stuff that life is made of?

I’m thinking many, many lumps of clay – an evocation of the infinity of life and matter.

And I’m seeing pieces of coloured fabrics, tied into knots, embedded into this clay – the fabric of life woven into the stuff of life… The colours and the textures and the unexpected twists and turns. The surprises and the changes of direction.

And then this clay – unfired – would be dissolvable still. Like life itself – a dream that can be reimagined and reshaped at any time – if we choose to.

And it would be called The Stuff That Life is Made Of – and that is to say the dreams – of all shapes and sizes.

 

strangeoldlife

Sarah Nabarro View All →

New mum, old soul... Finding beauty, wisdom, spirituality, and opportunities for learning in the everyday (hopefully)...

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