Suspended in Wonder

If for a moment, you can suspend judgement, take note of the beauty of this stray fishing net that washed upon the shore.

2014-06-04_net sea

Forget the facts we know about garbage and our earth’s oceans. Pause for just a brief time on an opinion about fishing, eating meat, and any stance on animal cruelty.

I’m not suggesting these concerns are unimportant. I’m only curious what the world would look like if we could venture into territory free of assessment.

A little more than a year ago, I posted a piece called Weeds and Debris, which played with the concept of viewing things through the eyes of an alien. Would a weed be any less wondrous than a flower? Would a celestial visitor shake their head at amassed beach trash, or would the debris simply be one more sight to see?

WordPress liked the idea so much, they featured it in Freshly Pressed, and the notion spread to a lot more readers.

I look at the intricate weave and knots of this grey fishing net. Yes, it’s plastic (a toxic and potentially deadly material, but for a short time, I’ll disregard that). The sunlight casts diamond shadows on a Naupaka leaf. The coconut husk rests nearby, reminding me of the fibers used by the ancients of this land.

The contrasts of color, the play of shadows and light. The juxtaposition of materials, natural and manufactured. The present and the past. The textures, all so delicate and tangible.

Just for a moment, it is all a marvel. I am free, observing all that exists in this instance of third dimension. No thought of good or bad, right or wrong, friend or foe.

2014-06-04_net ariel

At the Potter’s Wheel

I’ve been thinking about the potter’s wheel. How so much depends on the careful balance of speed and applied pressure.

Too slow on the foot pedal, you’ve got wobble. Too fast, you’re out of control.

We each exist on this wheel of sorts. Spinning through space on an earthen sphere, we subsist in the mysterious still point of perfected gravity. At this very moment, we are whirling about at such speed, moving through our days, molding and shaping our lives.

These events, the infinite details, they unfold as soon-to-be memories. Seven billion lives evolving, each a potter’s respiring creation.

We are crafters, mastering a work in progress. We play with the elements, adding liquid to solid in measured doses. We test velocity, adjusting the speed of our wheel.

We are seated at the messy helm. Hands in deep, slippery, and full of gooey matter. This is the real. This is the good. This is the stuff. Beautiful and wild. Full of a nothing that can spin into something. Anything.

What are you creating?

photo courtesy of Melissa Bridgman
photo courtesy of Melissa Bridgman