Another month, another column.
Is it even a column anymore? Perhaps a blog. a musing. A collection of random thoughts neatly packaged and shared at irregular intervals.
Once upon a time, I turned out 52 pieces a year, each written in under an hour. Some flowed, some trickled. Occasionally, the words would pour forth in such a way that it felt less like work and more like the passion it was meant to be. And every so often, they still do.
They say the more you practice something, the more natural it becomes. The thing is, these days, nearly everything feels like work. Rising. Shining. Functioning. All of it. The thought of putting effort into something that no longer seems to come as naturally is daunting.
Enter: photography. Inspiration is everywhere. Effortless, even. You need only look up, or down, and be met with artistry.
Take this photo, for instance ... walking along the sidewalk on the outskirts of the Kings Park Psych Center, of all places, I was struck by the pattern in the pavement. A heart, amidst desolate, rundown buildings, broken glass and graffiti—a beautiful juxtaposition if ever there was one.
Perhaps this is how we should learn to see life, as well. While on the surface, it may appear damaged and in disarray, there are plenty of subtle signs of hope waiting to be discovered.
Even random ramblings from a weekly columnist turned occasional essayist may offer tiny nuggets of wisdom from time to time.
Published: April 14, 2021