It is what it is

Today, I looked out my window and noticed a single white Japanese Iris amidst a mass of green weeds. I planted several iris bulbs (or corms, or whatever they're called) a few years ago, but due to neglect, they've mostly died out. I'd nearly forgotten they were there.

This flower, an inverted tripod of waxy white, with bottle brush yellow stamens, looks so exotic, so opulent, so surprising. I won't go so far as to say this flower is a symbol of hope or of defying the odds and will come back full force next year, I know enough about gardening to know that if you neglect something long enough, it will eventually die. Unless I move the thing, it'll croak, and as I have no real interest in gardening anymore, I expect that's what will happen--but, in the meantime, if it's going down, it's going down in a blaze of glory. It doesn't know it's defeated, and even if it did, it wouldn't care. It's doing what it's supposed to do. The iris is what it is. And it's beautiful to the last.

Thomas Fersen - Le Chat botté (subtitulos en español)

Thomas Fersen - Croque (subtitulos en español)

Thomas Fersen, crooner

I admit it, I have a crush on a Frenchman. I was introduced to Thomas Fersen by way of the local library--I was looking for something new to listen to and found a CD called French Playground. Geared towards kids, the CD is a compilation of songs by various French artists. Intrigued by the list of titles and the names of the artists, I checked out the CD and brought it home. All the songs were good, but when track 11--entitled "Croque"-- scraped on, I was arrested by the Gypsy-band introduction and the gravelly smoker's voice, singing about coming home from work and his wife exclaiming that he looked like death. "Well, that's no surprise," he replies, "I work in a cemetery." I suppose it's not a joke everyone would appreciate, especially since the guy goes on to say he's starving and all he can think about during funerals are the potatoes he's growing in the empty graves, but I was completely taken in by the absurdity. I'm in love.

I love the goofy, melodramatic tune, the voice (oh, the voice!), the dark humor, and the play on words. And, of course, having listened to the song so much now that my children can sing along (in French!) I set out to find more of Thomas Fersen and discovered that all his songs are fun, catchy, and a bit irreverent. In other words, just the way I like 'em. Even if you don't speak French, Thomas Fersen is worth a listen for the tune and the voice (oh, again with the voice!)

The Truth and Beauty Project Begins.

I'm SO tired of feeling frumpy and dumb and ugly. And I'm not talking about the extra pounds, frizzy hair, and blah clothes. I'm talking about my mind. I'm tired of feeling intellectually and emotionally stagnant. Life's not bad, it's just that I've gotten complacent. My radar for beauty and truth and zest for life has been on standby for a long, looooong time. I'm bored and I'm boring. But I don't have to be. So, this blog is dedicated to the search for the beauty and truth I see every day. I don't know that I'll commit to writing every day (I'm frankly just not that disciplined) but I need a cheap, legal creative outlet (so graffiti on public buildings is a no go.)

So, look for future posts about anything and everything---lucky, lucky, lucky you.

The Truth and Beauty Project 2010

The first time I heard Jason Mraz's song "The Beauty in Ugly," I stopped dead in my tracks. My jaw dropped. What. A. Fabulous. Song. Where have you been all my life? Though this song is most often associated with the show "Ugly Betty" I thought it could have been written just for me. That is an unabashedly cheesy statement, but I've decided I don't care.

The Beauty in Ugly

she's so big hearted,
but not so remarkable
just an ordinary humble girl
expecting nothing as we're made to think
its a pretty person's world

but you are beautiful and you better go show it
so go look again, you gotta be true to your own
if you really wanna go to the top
do you really wanna win?
don't believe in leaving normal, just to satisfy demand

well if you wanna get free
and if you wanna do the passionate thing
and if you wanna get smart for the sake of your heart
you should own your name and stand up tall
and get real and see the beauty in ugly

well you are fresh, you're face is fabulous
don't forget you're one of a kind
when nobody's checking the deeds you've done
and nobody's hearing your cries
you make all the fashion statements
just by dressing up your mind

I started thinking about beauty. How is it defined, and by whom? There is Hollywood beauty, supermodel beauty, there's even the Dove soap ads that tell us that we're all beautiful in some way. What about the beauty in sunsets? Songs? In a well stitched suture? In a job well done? In a crisis endured? In a book that speaks to you? What about beauty in a friend's laughter? In loneliness? I'm off to find out...