Beautiful Stuff
There’s no shortage of all things terrible these days, so I’ve collected a few things I thought were beautiful in one way or another this week. Starting with the way the light sneaks into our houses at this time of year and illuminates surprising corners and long dried flowers, casting poetic shadows on the wall.
And then also:
1. Sviatoslav Richter playing Pavane Pour one Infante Défunte. And really what I love about it is the coughing in this live recording. I know, the coughing! I don’t know why, well we all know why, but the the coughing is just so HUMAN! And it seems as though it’s from another time, even. So, enjoy the music, enjoy the phlegm. (Sorry that sounded more gross than beautiful, but so it be).
2. Ciaran Hinds Forever. The Man in the Hat was released in 2020, but I’ve yet to see where you can watch it streaming or even on DVD. In the meantime, the trailer is below and not only do we have Ciaran Hinds in all his glory, but a Fiat Cinquecento! (Another love of mine). It’s a movie in the quirky and charming category, and don’t we all need more of that?
In the meantime, if you can get a hold of the 1995 Persuasion adaptation, you’ll see my favourite Austen novel come to life in my favourite version. Honestly, please don’t tell Colin Firth, but for my cash damn dollars, Ciaran is the best Austen hero.
A little Ciaran Hinds bonus, is this video by photographer Rory Lewis, on the process behind shooting the beautiful portraits of CH.
3. Typewriter Love. My friend and fellow writer, Su Croll, shared this LitHub article recently and the video/supercut of typewriters being used on the big screen is so fun to watch.
4. The Opulence of Emptiness. Did you know that the Frick Museum in NYC has moved to the more austere Breuer during renos? I love photographs of museums, and this article has a number of really interesting ones. It’s a unique moment in the history of this collection.
5. Short Story by Miranda July. This story has been on a TON of best of lists, and it seems to crop up from time to time and get shared everywhere again. It really is just…whoa. The ending is something I think about a LOT. I won’t spoil it for you, but if you haven’t read it, it’s short and good and the writing is wow.
6. Inside the Louvre. To return to the photos of museums theme, these are wonderful. What I wouldn’t give to get inside an empty art gallery and photograph stuff!
7. What does hope look like, now? So for my last share, here is a poem by Thomas Centolella, titled, “The Hope I Know.” I’m imagining that it could be a bit of a writing prompt. What does your version of hope wear, or attire themselves in at present? Feathers, a la Emily Dickinson? Yoga pants, a feather boa? Hope might be applying a lot of concealer under their eyes, and eat a lot of chips and dip.
Here is Centolella’s hope:
The Hope I Know
doesn’t come with feathers.
It lives in flip-flops and, in cold weather,
a hooded sweatshirt, like a heavyweight
in training, or a monk who has taken
a half-hearted vow of perseverance.
It only has half a heart, the hope I know.
The other half it flings to every stalking hurt.
It wears a poker face, quietly reciting
the laws of probability, and gladly
takes a back seat to faith and love,
it’s that many times removed
from when it had youth on its side
and beauty. Half the world wishes
to stay as it is, half to become
whatever it can dream,
while the hope I know struggles
to keep its eyes open and its mind
from combing an unpeopled beach.
Congregations sway and croon,
constituents vote across their party line,
rescue parties wait for a break
in the weather. And who goes to sleep
with a prayer on the lips or half a smile
knows some kind of hope.
Though not the hope I know,
which slinks from dream to dream
without ID or ally, traveling best at night,
keeping to the back roads and the shadows,
approaching the radiant city
without ever quite arriving.
I think it’s time for me to pick up John O’Donohue’s book, Beauty, again. I’ve read it many times, and it’s always a good comfort. he reminds us of the words by Pascal, “In difficult times you should always carry something beautiful in your mind.” If there’s anything I’ve learned in the last year, is that this is what saves the soul, this is what keeps the heart from hardening, this is what makes me want to open my eyes up in the morning. From the hope of seeing the light on the wall, to reading a poem, or listening to a piece of music that lifts me — these things keep me breathing well. So for now, I wish you, too, good breathing, and many moments of beauty in each day.
