A fallen, dead leaf, well past its usefulness. Cracked and rippled ice, a maze of flaws. In other words, a thing of beauty which looks as if it could be set as a piece of jewelry.
What has gained beauty for you because of its limitations or imperfections?
My bipolar disorder allowed for material for two books, and an MFA in creative writing. Both books were added to the Grinnell College, my college, library in the special collections. My life long battle with arthritis of thr spine only recently resulted in my involvement in chair yoga, a creative and healthful way to deal with pain, and it also resulted in material forbook Winter the second book. The first book Winter from Spring and the second book are available from Amazon in Kindle and in softcover.
Love this concept and I am reminded of the Japanese aesthetic, Wabi Sabi, that finds beauty in imperfection and impermanence. Thank you!
Yes I am a Soto Zen practitioner. There is the moment sought and disappearing then reappearing.
My husband and I bought an old house with just enough wear and tear to it that we would not freak out if we dinged a wall (or scraped it up while moving furniture–big scrape on the stairwell from that) or cracked a tile or whatever might happen. I spent ages 10-23 living in a brand-new, custom-built, house, and a big deal was made over every chip and ding and scrape. Living in this broken-in house gives us permission not to worry about little things, just relax and enjoy (until something big breaks).
I have a chipped, stained, small, bright red teapot; that in itself is not the important thing about it. When I was recently finished at in the university years ago, we, a group of women graduates rented a house in the city where we all worked. It was after WWII and rent control was still in force,. We benefitted from sharing. Janie, our jokester, was a joy to know. One day, not long after her marriage, we heard that on a flight in Iowa to join her husband for a time, the bad snowy weather there had caused a crash and Janie had been killed. That’s why I use the small, red, cracked, beautiful(to me) teapot that Janie’s husband gave to me to remember her. I have used it almost daily for about 65 years.