Beautiful Things
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I am a solitary being, living in companionable harmony with 3 cats and
my thoughts. When I seek respite, when my thoughts are dark and
melancholy, I look to my beautiful things. I would share some of these
with you.
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Books
Two authors among many. First, Elizabeth Kostova, author of “The
Historian”. I put on headphones, tune to white noise, and open the
book. Within the first sentence, I am transposed to her world, my
focal point poised over her shoulder. What she writes, I see. I am
entirely in her world, captivated, experiencing at one remove the
sights, sounds, smells, and emotions of which she writes.
V.E.Schwab, “The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue”, and “Bury Our Bones
in the “Midnight Soil”. From the latter: “Bury my bones in the
midnight soil, plant them shallow and water them deep, and in my place
will grow a feral rose, soft red petals hiding sharp white teeth”.
Music.
Ahh. Again with the headphones, while lying on my bed, room darkened.
The only way I listen to my music. Never, ever as background.
“Comfortably Numb”, Pink Floyd, Pulse CD. The most beautiful song I
have ever heard.
“Adagio”, Laura Fabian
“Panis Angelicus, Rondine al Nido, Nessum Dorma”, by Luciano Pavarotti.
“Fade Into You”, by Leslie West.
These songs absolutely shred me. I clench, rub together hands and
feet. The endorphins, the dopamine and serotonin that course through
my brain can’t be contained. I cry, copiously. Hours pass. After a
session, I am wrung out, slightly raw, emptied, peaceful, and calm.
My beautiful things.
