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Beauty and Plastic Bags

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Dear Jan,

 

I ought not to forget that he who plays the villain of the piece (the torn

up plastic bag) may be a greater artist than he who plays the hero (the

magnificent sunrise). For beauty - in the profound words of Millet, does not

arise from the subject of a 'work of art', but from the necessity that has

been felt of representing that subject. Ananda K. Coomaraswamy has said that

Beauty is Absolute and can not have degrees, just as you pointed out Jan.

The vision of beauty is spontaneous, in just the same sense as the inward

light of the lover, or bhakta. It is a state of grace that cannot be

obtained by deliberate efforts, though we can remove hindrances to its

manifestation, for the secret of all art is to be found in

self-forgetfulness. And we know that this state of grace is not achieved in

the pursuit of pleasure, the hedonists have their reward, but they are in

bondage to loveliness, while the artist is free in beauty. If beauty awaits

discovery everywhere, if it awaits our recollection in the Sufi sense, in

aesthetic contemplation as in love and knowledge, we momentarily recover the

unity of our being released from individuality. There are really and truly

no degrees of beauty. The most complex and simplest expressions remind us of

one and the same

state. The sonata cannot be more beautiful than the simplest lyric, not the

painting than the drawing, nor the sunrise than the plastic bag, merely

because of greater elaboration.

We can reveal the beauty of all experiences when we realize that Beauty is

the same. All things are as significant as another. "If a beauteous form we

view, 'Tis His reflection shining through." I feel like the child Mazie an

hour before the family was to leave for the County Fair. Too darn excited

and thrilled to speak clearly about it, just nonsensical ramblings and

squeals of pure joy.

 

Love to You,

Mazie

 

 

_______________

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, "Mazie Lane" <sraddha54@h...> wrote:

> Dear Jan,

> There are really and truly

> no degrees of beauty. The most complex and simplest expressions

remind us of one and the same

> state. The sonata cannot be more beautiful than the simplest lyric,

not the painting than the drawing, nor the sunrise than the plastic

bag, merely because of greater elaboration.

> We can reveal the beauty of all experiences when we realize that

Beauty is the same. All things are as significant as another. "If a

beauteous form we view, 'Tis His reflection shining through." I feel

like the child Mazie an hour before the family was to leave for the

County Fair. Too darn excited and thrilled to speak clearly about

it, just nonsensical ramblings and squeals of pure joy.

>

> Love to You,

> Mazie

 

I also felt this same way going to the "dumps" as a child. They had

big open dumping grounds for trash, out in the rockpiles, as I called

it. That beauty and joy was as magnificent to me as the fair. Walking

on my way to physical therapy at twelve (which was nothing short of

torture) I would be frightened, but then I would breathe in the

beauty everywhere, the air, the houses, the trees, the beingness, and

I would be filled with joy once more, allowing no room for the fear.

The grace of surrender, as Harsha mentioned, is always available to

the one who has their home in the heart. It was my savior in all ways.

This was before me or that was before me, what to do? There was only

a child filled with Joy and Love who surrendered to my Beloved at

nine years, in a backyard garden. All space, Allness, from every atom

and all things, the resounding ocean "Voice" of God, told me, "I Am.

I am with you always." And right after this total 'knowing' that He

existed and he loved me enough to tell me so, or I loved myself

enough to listen, the challenge of physical deterioration began. It

continues to this day, but not the challenge it was in the beginning.

It is now my Beloved Friend who I embrace in the sweet pain of Love.

It is my dearest, most wonderful guru, who has taught me how to love.

John Wayne said "Courage is being scared to death...and saddling up

anyway." And so we saddle up in surrender. We ride into the sunset,

in solitude and awe.

 

With Love to You,

Mazie

>

>

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Dear Sweet Mazie,

Your lovely post reminded me of a quote from

Barnett Newman, an American Abstract Expressionist/Minimalist Painter.

He said, "aesthetics is to art as ornithology is to the birds".

Thank you for sharing your delight and wonder

with all.

Love, Mary

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