Day 42

I have been wondering if all this blogging stuff is too self-indulgent.  Making a self-portrait every day, why?  Looking so carefully at myself every single day for a year?  Well, perhaps it furthers self-knowledge.  It is surely always good to observe and reflect, to know yourself better.  We are each, after all is said and done, all alone in our heads, no matter how much love we give and how much surrounds us.  And also my aim is to grow old as gracefully as possible, even though some days it is really difficult.  It is indeed a pity that we often do not admire and enjoy our young bodies.  Instead we are constantly worrying, "my nose is too big, my breasts are too small, my thighs are too fat", etc.  I sometimes want to tell my students that they are exquisite, that they should be aware of how lucky they are, how gorgeous, how alive, and that all they should do is LIVE.  

I think the trick to life is to find delight in the mundane.  Drawing helps you do that too, because no matter what you observe, a vase of flowers, a computer monitor, a tree, a pile of books and papers, even this aging face of mine, as you begin to draw, to scrutinize and contemplate the chiara and the scura, the light and the dark, the way shadow and luminosity juxtapose, the subject becomes beautiful. 

Molly and I ran 1.71 km today on Singing beach, it was cut short because as I stopped at the end to take a photograph, my thick ski-glove slipped out from where it was tucked under my arm, as a large wave surged on to the shore, and my reflexes told me to pick up the glove, but the wave was too fast and drenched the glove, my bare hand, and my shoes and socks!  It was VERY cold water, and I quickly ran back in a panic to the car, terrified of dying of cold, (yes, I know that is pathetic) or getting frostbite, or something.  My left hand was completely numb by the time I got back, but it quickly came to life again.  I have a dread of THE COLD, it is, for me, as horrifying as THE NOTHING in 'Never-ending Story'.