Time for Beauty
Under the scribbled tentative title of the book I'm writing, on the little magnetic chicken notepad on my fridge, which probably should be used for grocery reminders, but instead is used for... random stuff, there's a quote I just can't let go of: "In such ugly times, the only true protest is beauty." ~Phil Ochs It's been a long time since I could see beauty. It disappeared last year, while my Mum was undergoing treatment for, and slowly dying of, a brain tumour. Now I look at the whole world she gave me--the flowers and garden; this home that I grew up in, which I raised my kids in and still rent from my father; the rain and snow and sunshine, and the deep, deep love of it all--and it looks grey. An artist friend told me that's just what depression looks like. She said it took four years for her to see colours again after her partner died. I wish I could say I'm angry about that. But I'm not, even. I feel grey about that. Despite this, my garde...