Tuesday, 24 August 2010
For all of you who are currently on a voyage of striving for absolute perfection, you are on a fool’s errand. For perfection, as is commonly imagined, is just that - an imagining of the human mind. It is an immaterial thing that resides in the clouds and sands of our minds. Not a thing made of atoms or concrete or human flesh.
In fact, friends, as I have held since I first began pondering the concept of perfection, the most 'perfect' thing can only be imperfect, because we can only deal with the things of this realm. Consider these: The perfect sandwich, delicious in all ways possible, will all too soon be fully consumed and forever gone. The perfect home will only remain as such as long as the ideal family resides within it and can not grant you immortality, so as to forever enjoy and love it. The perfect man will, in time, change and grow as any person should, shifting the perfection of your relationship to some new uneven and unexpected plane.
So following this logic, beauty itself must be imperfect. For imperfection is all there is. The best that there is to offer is imperfect, by necessity of existing in this world.
So, friends. Keep all things in proportion. If someone professes to be better than you, remember we are all writhing in the same pit of imperfection, desperately trying to leap and jump and build towers of Babel to reach that heaven, that Shangri-La, that Perfection.
(Oddly, inspired by Juno - the movie and a glass (or 3) of wine. This combo, quite 'perfectly', brings forth the pensive buddha in me.)
Thursday, 5 August 2010
Wallpaper* is an on and offline publication that reports on design, interiors, fashion, art and lifestyle, and is generally pretty nifty. I caught onto it when I learned of the creator - a gentleman named Tyler Brûlé who is basically a modern day Midas. The magazine is hailed as an 'iconic global style guide', and to be fair, I wouldn't argue with that.
And now I officially love the magazine because it's reported a story that's made me pretty exited. So I spent a month living in Seoul, South Korea, and fell in love with the city as I'm sure most visitors would. The article describes that the city is undergoing a design orgy, where the apartment block-dominated landscape will be reinvented into a "magnetic urban metropolis".
I've been fervently suggesting to anyone that will listen that they should visit Seoul, and now there is even more reason to see the ancient city reinvent itself as the new World Design Capital 2010.
Check out the article and check out the city, city, city! (Three seperate links, all good sights to learn a lil about Seoul - couldn't think of a better way to get them all in!)
Wednesday, 4 August 2010
So I found a picture of myself, when I looked about 3 years old. I’m stood in the garden with two of my sisters, both of them equally incomprehensibly young. Of course the first thing I could proclaim when I saw it was “I can’t believe I was so young!!” And it seems that I meant this proclamation, whole-heartedly. Oh how the years of life have hardened me! Making this untainted, innocent time of my life seem only like a solitary and unattainable moment that a camera captured, rather than a scene from my very own life.
When I was small I was truly innocent. I fully expected that I’d be someone of import, that I’d do something that was in some way moving. Though the half imagined expectations of a child raised to believe that I was not to be considered as anything remotely similar to common, I suppose it’s not too late to take up this implicit pact that I made with the world.
So in the words of… lots of people before me I expect! ‘Watch this space’.
(I mean this literally – if I do something ground breaking, I’m more than likely to blog all about it, pictures and all.)
It was basically a fairly light-hearted story, despite the ghost theme, and I had it read in a few days. But it got me thinking. Her great aunt died at the age of 105, and by the end of the novel, we learn that this was in fact not her only achievement, but actually probably the least impressive out of the great list. The final scene was of a huge memorial service being held, where hundreds of people gathered to mourn her death and celebrate her life.
A happy (I assure you! It wasn’t just the funeral to end the thing!) ending for the story. But in reality, it’d be a bitch if the celebration of a good person only happened once they’re dead and gone and buried away. Of course it’s right to celebrate one’s achievements once their life has drawn to a close, and the complete list can be formulated.
But I was struck with the realisation that everyday should probably be a bit of a celebration. Too late is exactly that – the absolute missed opportunity to explain to someone how much they are valued. How much of an impact they have had on your world. Individually, we’re no more than dots on the world and it’s histories, it’s past and future. But our own little worlds are decorated and dominated by huge structures and monuments, which make very definite impressions on the histories of ‘my life’: the people that matter. They ought to be appreciated. If you look at the
(I’ve finishes being all deep and introspective for now - it's the 'pensive' coming out. NB. DEFINITION OF PENSIVE: 'wistfully or deeply thoughtful, often with a tinge of sadness'.)