So I Don't Forget...Ever.

I REFUSE to make a resolution that has anything to do with my weight. (Not that it's a bad resolution to make). It's just that this year

I REFUSE TO MAKE ANY RESOLUTION THAT I HAVE EVER MADE BEFORE.

I resolve this year, to see as much beauty in life as I possibly can. And not only see it, but mark it somehow, in my own feeble and limited way. January's gift creates the feeling that time is on my side, that a clean slate has been laid before me. A freeing feeling, sure, but I know it is fleeting (time itself, and my own perceptions of a fresh start).

Every once in a while, I just wish I could freeze time long enough to capture and replicate the picture that is being placed before me.

(For example, I remember nursing one of my twin babies. It was dark and I was tired. Having passed before through the ephemeral of holding a newborn, I tried as hard as I could to freeze in my mind's eye the detail of that infant nestled into me. I didn't want to forget that moment ever. And I do remember it. It's a funny thing though, that what I remember most about that quiet dark night is how hard I tried to freeze that moment.)

But that's not what I wanted to write about. And so to mark the beauty:

The other day I saw such a beautiful scene and I wished I could stop right then and paint it or draw it or take a picture. But I needed to be somewhere (I was driving) and besides, the scene took place in the early evening kind of light- the kind that transforms a simple park into Winter's Elysium. That kind of light is gone as quickly as it arrives. I had no choice but to try to enjoy it where I was, with what I had.

In an attempt to burn the image in my brain, I described it aloud to myself. I dictated how I would paint it, which became very frustrating because I have no idea how to turn paint into light.

This is what I remember:

A park with gently rolling hills-- no (smaller than that)-- mounds. Mounds, which alternated green and white. Green bulge, then white bulge, then green, and so on, all the way back to the horizon. Winter had timidly come and the green-as-June-grass held it's place where it could. Like waves of green and then the break-sprays of glistening snow. The sweeping slant of the sun emboldened the colors and they glistened, like gold does, in the light.

Interspersed in that wide alternating space were many bare trees. Stark-black silhouettes of life and spring. The crooked elbows and bulging knuckles, now naked and looking cold, revealed every attempt it had ever made to reach out and bend up toward the sunlight.

It was lovely, and I wish I could describe it better. I wanted to write something down before I forget. I love when I am in the midst of the mundane and I catch a glimpse of grandeur. I'm sure I would see more if only I would pay attention.