Beauty sustains me. Even in the worst of times there is beauty all around - a comforting gestrue, a sympathetic glance, a snile.
I remember being struck by writings and poetry from the first wrld war about people in truly hellish situtions stopping, even at great danger to themselves, to notice something beautiful. Violets In Plug Street Wood by Roland in Vera Brittain's Testamennt of Youth comes to mind.
Here is my first post under Simply Beautiful
And I wonder how this beautiful project is going?
I do hope you wil have time to browse Simply Beautiful. I have had a lovely morning looking through these happy memories.
We are havng beautiful butterfly weather.
This male orange tip obligingly waited while I went to fetch the camera.
I heard this poem on Radio 3 the other morning. I absolutely love the imagery, and have read it over and over. A new favourite!
...the scene in moonlight. I woke in the night and found the snow was thick above the tree line (much of it has melted in lovely sunshine today). The sky was a rich blue and dark enough to be starry, the forest was black and the moon shone on the brilliant band of snow. Dazzlingly beautiful.
I hope you have all been spared storm damage..
..and so beautiful.
I put on quilted coat, another scarf, woolly hat and gloves and stood out in the garden till my eyes adjusted a bit to the dark. The moon had a bright halo, and to the left of it Orion stood out first. As I watched more and more stars seemed to switch on until the sky was brilliant with them. It's awe inspiring, isn't it - a frosty starry night!
Indoors again before my nose froze, to a glowing fire and a late supper of ripe pear, feta cheese and walnuts and a little glass of wine.
The water is heating for a deep hot bath.
for a superb exhibition of Medieval Sculptures. Here are some of my favourites.
St Helena and St Katharina were carved from limewood between 1490 and 1500 in Germany and still have some traces, over 500 years later, of the original paint.
St Helena (left) was the mother of Constantine the Great and travelled widely in the fourth century seeking holy relics and having churches built. I wonder what travel was like then? She was thought to be in her 80's when she went to Jerusalem and the Holy Land. There is a St Helen's church in York where Constantine was proclaimed emperor on the death of his father, and she was known in Cyprus too, and I have a special admiration for her. For some unaccountable reason I always get a little thrill when I come across her.
It felt rather special to meet her this afternoon at the first exhibition I have been to for ages.
Here is St Anne teaching the young Virgin to read. She looks like a very severe teacher. Made about 1400 from oak with original paint and gilding, this comes from southern France. Imagine making the fabric of the headdress from solid oak.
St John the Evangelist is also German and carved from limewood around 1520. It was the beauty of the carving which struck me most in this one.
I wondered who made it all those years ago with such skill and attention, even to the fingernails, and what their world was like.
This beautiful exhibition took me out of myself for a couple of hours.
I sent this photograph to my sister, commenting that they are British grown. I wondered whereabouts in Britain they grew and was saying Not in Argyll. I was dictating the message and predictive text wrote Naughty Naughty girl.
She wondered why she was being told off by her big sister...
Curious, I Googled and found this nice feature.
..about this lovely project?
some beautiful things are happening in the world.
On an evening walk I saw this magical effect on the water when the waves were coming in in one direction and the surface ripples were going in the opposite direction - I hope you can see the effect in the photographs...We stood looking for ages.
Eat your heart out Bridget Riley (must see the exhibition in Edinburgh).
This is the post I was about to publish when I heard of the fire.....
We fitted a lot in - sunrise at Trocadero (yesterday's post), sunset from the roof of our apartment block in Montparnasse (header photo) and Notre Dame at midnight - though not all in the same day, and with rests in the afternoons!
A few days in Paris were a tonic and a thrill.
I am reminded of the atmosphere in York in 1984 when the Minster was badly damaged by fire - there was a palpable hush over the whole city the following morning as people wordlessly acknowledged each other by making eye contact, and the only sound was that of a helicopter circling. The south trancept and the rose window are now fully and beautifully restored.
A grey and grieving day in Paris as one French commentator said, but mercifully there were no fatalities.
An artist seeking a simpler life - (but not too simple!)