us. For those that are wondering what a tattoo is-- it's a British / Scottish tradition of music played by a corps of drums and bag pipes. This practice was first encountered by the British Army when stationed in Flanders during the War of Austrian Succession.(1740-48)
After a time of increasing frustration mid loud noises and shooting of canons, our grandson cryingly said, "I want a pretty day! " I want a pretty day!" Remembering that incident, I'm struck again by the aching poignancy of that cry. There is a self-awareness in it, an attempt to articulate a frustration that remains wordless in many of us. But what makes it particularly sad, is our understanding that his awareness of self is clearly not yet balanced with an awareness of reality, of other, of place, culture or responsibility; with the discovery of that, not only do we not get to live in our "pretty place" but for the most part society doesn't really care if we are not in that space or place. His cry is the cry of all of us wanting to find the balance between what is, and what we want it to be. Between dark and light, between "pretty" and ugly, between self and other. I think it may be in that balance that the truest, richest, deepest most saturated moments live. I suspect that working to achieve that balance is the work of a life time. I find many "pretty" moments when behind my camera, just as the image above depicts the truest, richest, deepest saturated moment for me; for however brief, there is that balance of inner peace.
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