Relating can be beautiful

Chat that transcended past betrayals with friend I thought I'd have to hate.

Noticing the huge grey eyes of my customer crush for the first time today. Traveling with him past custy/worker border into the sweet dance of flirtatious special attention before and after those eyes.

image credit screenshot from http://www.java2s.com/Code/Java/Language-Basics/Log.htm

Sincerity: Finally talking with my manager about being frustrated and unhappy at work. Months of tension and anxiety transformed by openness and honesty and valuing my perspective into calm realism in the face of an imperfect world.

Universe: Big bright moon tonight. At some point in highschool, the terrific Dermot O'Reilly gave us an astronomy test with the True/False question "The moon is a hole in the sky through which sunlight appears." That beautifully absurd notion often surfaces when I'm confronted with a full, and shining moon--the magic-eye moment when it looks true is awesome. All my best, Mr. O'Reilly.

Deception: Remembering that despite the powerfully sexy look and feel of Monocle magazine, I have yet to be wowed by its content after four issues--and not snatching one up immediately, like I usually do.

Courage: Reading a preview copy of Pierre Bayard's new book How to Talk About Books You Haven't Read. This brave and serene Frenchman, no less than a professor of literature, has written a book-length essay on the virtues of skimming and not being ashamed all in the service of experiencing literature as a whole rather than in fractured parts. The emperor doesn't read. Long, live the emperor.


image credit Jason Ku and Brian Chan [link]

Beautiful like a Movie

Watching Miranda July's film, Me, You and Everyone We Know tonight, I wept several times, panicked and forgetful wondering where all the beautiful moments were in my life. Then I remembered a fully transcendent hour I spent diving for plastic stick-on gems that had fallen off swimmers one summer.


I was a camp counselor, she was a little camper kid. She found the first one, then lost it in the hectic pool. I dove under to help her find this tiny sparkling speck in the huge and sparkling pool. After the miracle of finding it and the accident of finding others as we searched, we continued on like that for what thankfully felt like forever.


We glorified a fad and made treasure of debris. We made time wait and were nameless. We were young and old pirates and mermaids together.

Thanks, Sunshine. It's been six years since then, and it can be harder at 13, but I hope you're still having beautiful afternoons like that one.

image credit Tim Laman

What if campaign posters were gorgeous? What if we didn't have to look at shoddy art as a matter of course? What if everyone loved what we loved?

Beautiful propaganda is more effective.

image credit http://www.gotellmama.org/

Miru Kim: Naked City Spleen

photo credit Miru Kim

New York Times article on urban explorers

META + WEE HOURS + THE UNIVERSE = SOUL SOCK

A zygote is a gamete’s way of producing more gametes. This may be the purpose of the universe. Robert Heinlein

One year in

Happy Anniversary, Hundreds of Ways. A toast of love and thanks to you for reminding me who I am and what I can do. You are surprising and challenging and easy. You are wonderful, and we can do anything we envision. Be brave, be good, have fun, love tons.

photo credit Jeff Ragovin

My favorite story is a beautiful one

An invaluable tale for leaders and dreamers, hopeful outsiders, stifled insiders, budding pilots and budding mystics. It is the story of a seagull who believes there is more to life than scavenging, sets out to follow his dream and creates so much more than he ever could have imagined. Fear, failure, shame, dedication, passion, wonder and glory are all present in this gorgeous story. It is desert-island, time-capsule worthy.

To purchase the book from Simon and Schuster click here. To read it now, click here for the virtual book (cool!) or here for plain text.

Art and Beauty Bookclub at McNally Robinson Booksellers NYC

I started a bookclub at McNally Robinson Booksellers in New York City earlier this year. Our first three books were on fundamental aspects of the visual arts. The first was a catalog of the perceived artistic temperament; the second was an investigation of the experience of viewing images--paintings in particular; and the third was on the existence and signifcance of photographs.

On September 12th, at 7pm we will be discussing Survival of the Prettiest, Nancy Etcoff's study of the psychological and biological characteristics in humans that respond to physical beauty. I'm particularly excited about this book because Etcoff's premise is that while beauty can be analyzed into abstraction, it remains fundamentally powerful to human beings on a physiological level.

The bookclub is open to all and free of charge. Come through, it's a great time.

"That's what we're here for."

Physical beauty is what many people first think of when I tell them about this project. In the beginning, I was resistant to that aspect of beauty being a part of this work--muddling my lofty endeavors, but in my meanderings, I've found that's where my mind is at too. There's power and privilege and oppression and standards to think of when you talk of physical beauty. It's worthy. Plus, we're human beings.

Still there's more so much more. Beyond sex, there's the ethereal beauty of the universe. There's the beauty of peace and tranquility. There's the beauty of elegant design. And of course, there's the beauty of integrity, which, I'd like to think, runs through it all.

I'm working on a longer post now though, which is alas--no not alas, damn it--which is about the beauty of intimacy and dedication as experienced through the physical qualities of our bedfellows.

It's righteous and all to push ourselves beyond sex, but as a co-worker explained some months ago, "That's what we're here for."

photo credit unknown as per source

On Hotness, Part Two

I found myself in bed with a beautiful friend a few weeks ago touched by the beauty of his body, his discipline, and his sacrifices--knowing it was a gift.

Despite the years I logged charting and listing and inspirational collaging, it wasn't the pages of Shape, Self, Runner's World, Vogue or Elle that made the difference.

Seeing a beautiful man lain out before me, bathed in natural light and looking like a woodland-nymph Adonis, or towering above me ripped like David, made me want to make the best of my flesh in a way no magazine ever could.

Vive la sexualite.