| "The
Pebbles Are My Peers" is a great title for this piece, another
meditative phrase to sit and reflect on. It comes from a short story
I read in a college class about aging in literature. A course dedicated
to old people; "On Golden Pond" and the like. One of my
favorite short stories was one about a grandmother, living in a
nursing home, who desperately wants to break out in search of what
life still has to offer. Like all good rebels, she escapes from
her home and is eventually chased down by her family. It was a very
good story, and even though it wasn't required reading for the class,
I still enjoyed it.
What
really caught me was her poignant observations of her life at its
late stage. Looking down at the ground, the woman would remark to
herself, "even the pebbles are my peers." That's a great
statement; maybe a little morbid for some (although I can't imagine
why), but one that faces our mortality with dignity, and perhaps
an awareness that we are not unconnected from our environment. It
is a sentiment that is all too easily forgotten in our high-tech
age.
And
you just learned this through the Internet. How ironic is that?
The
painting isn't half bad, either. Very blue. I've discovered that
blue has become my color over the past two years. I don't know how
that happened, but it is an improvement over black. I'm like Picasso
in reverse. |
