What I dream of is an art of balance.
—Henri Matisse
My life, I see, must be kept in a
perfect balance (always precarious, like the Spirit of Eternal Repose that so
fascinates me) between the immediate, physical, sensual world right here around
me, in which I sit under the olive trees drinking Spring Cherry tea from my
Italian mug painted with the Deruta Etrusca Raffaellesco dragon, and watching
the swallows scythe the air over the gentle slope of the house roof; and the
far, abstract, imaginative world of the mind out there somewhere, gathering
fascinating facts from the ether and images of distant places I have visited or
would visit one day. Always yearning to
learn something new, but happy to do so while sitting unmoving in my wicker
chair. Looking in, looking out. Marrying the two in writing, with an antique
garnet ring, a long strand of grass knotted into a circle.
Image: "Harmonious balance," Stephen Warren
(Simplicity, Elegance, and Grace of Nature)
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