|enjoying the crunchy maple leaves in a park on the shores of Lake Ontario|
I hope that every week I can fall a little bit more in love with the world.
This mysterious dance we do on the earth, in human skin, it's like a love affair.
Deluded, yet exquisitely, perfectly real. Gorgeous, all encompassing, so beautiful. Perfect, ecstatic, unbelievably unfair and painful.
Prepare for transfiguration, miracles, euphoria, ecstasy, boredom, and dirty dishes. Then more ecstasy. Don't forget the mystery.
Love. I don't reserve it only for my most intimate beloveds: child, partner, buddha, pug, self, island. I bestow it widely, on many things and people and experiences - I love so much. Don't you?
SO Fridays on The Artful Life are devoted to being in love. And talking about it. This feature is all about whatever I fell in love with this week, on the interwebs or otherwise. And whatever I think you might fall in love with too. Little loves and big loves. So here we go:
I just spent seven weeks in that place us left coasters lovingly refer to as 'back east,' or, sometimes, 'back home.' And yeah, even after twentyish years, it does still feel like home. And that hasn't always equalled comfort, but this time, it really did. There's lots to love.
I love, for instance, eastern Autumn. I really had forgotten. I love the crunchy leaves, the bright days, the clean slanted light, the smells of dry maple and stirred-up lake. Experiencing these sights and smells made me nostalgic - strangely nostalgic for things I've never really experienced - do you know what I mean? So this strange nostalgia has launched bit of a love affair with all things traditional.
|painting by Julian Alden Weir|
|A delicious bistro dinner shared with my husband and sister-in-law|
The obsession continues - I love these old brick Century homes. I saw this particular one in Bloomfield, on the shores of Lake Ontario. And it's for sale. And it has a studio. Yep.
I love these traditional chalkboard menus. And just chalkboards in general. I'm wanting a big one in my house, so I was really happy to come across this simple recipe for making your own chalkboard paint. I'm planning to do my entire entryway wall - in traditional black, of course!
So this is where my nostalgia has led me this week. Nostalgia is akin to regret, but it is bearable and bittersweet. True regret is torturous, and I am committed now, more than ever, to live without it, which takes real courage. This simple article I came across this week was deeply inspiring: "Top Five Regrets of the Dying." Please read it.