Friday, June 3, 2016


This week began with Memorial Day and the resulting contemplation of life and death, war and peace, honor and depravity.   Always a tough one for me, the gal who flies the stars and stripes outside in honor of the holiday.  We just inherited a wonderfully made US flag from my parents, who are off-loading in preparation for an eventual move to the retirement community.  Never been used, it hangs pristine at the front of the house.

It's bound to be a rough few months before the presidential election.  I'm balancing on the razor thin edge.  My dark side is ever present, lurking beneath the placid surface, threatening to explode.  We are in strange times.

From Sally Mann's "Hold Still":  …I see both the beauty and the dark side of things, the loveliness of cornfields and full sails, but the ruin as well.  And I see them at the same time, at once ecstatic at the beauty of things, and chary of that ecstasy.  The Japanese have a phrase for this dual perception:  mono no aware.  It means ‘beauty tinged with sadness,’ for there cannot be any real beauty without the indolic whiff of decay.  For me, living is the same thing as dying, and loving is the same thing as losing, and this does not make me a madwoman; I believe it can make me better at living, and better at loving, and, just possibly, better at seeing.

I counter the weight with walks in the cool of the morning, a soak in the hot tub, the love of my dear husband, and always good food.  This is when and where the little things matter most.  Matter only.

A friend is traveling through Provence just now.  He's sending pictures of towns we were just visiting, food we supped on, wine we drank, cheese we devoured.  How I want to be back there, magically, without the hassle of air travel.

I work to recreate it here, now.  The heat has been unbearable, and so any work in the yard takes place in early morning.

We have brought in olive trees and table grapes to plant.  Lavender is blooming, just as it is in Provence.  The smell is intoxicating.  Grounding.

The water fountains gurgle, the spa bubbles, the buzz of the hummingbirds draw my eyes upward.  This, right now.  This.

Have a lovely weekend, and peace be with you.


  1. It is tough right now because so much rides on the political transition. Just got to concentrate on the little things and what is good. I like blue doors-- especially when they look worn.

  2. Yes. To really see the world and the planet. At once. All of it. Mono no aware.

  3. Tara, you write so beautifully, and you are so in touch with yourself, and reality..... it makes me proud that we are married, oh, and did I tell you, proud when you mention me.

  4. My father so loved France and planned to move there as his last home. Then he got sick. He was lucky to visit many times and took my older daughter as her graduation gift in 2004.

  5. Beautiful, as always, Tara. Thank you for the sharing of your gift. XO