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Bring them to me. Let me breathe their scent. Melt in their warmth and be important again.
Give me the sense of a simpleton to know what soft skin and questions are worth.
Make my dull mind a genius if it means I’ll change. Understand love and people.
That the value of the equation is greater than the sum of the parts of transient things
NO- than the best result the catalysts the world offers may yield.
Bring them to me to wrap myself around them and feel every inch of them. As if wrapped in good and purity.
So that I can be for those moments washed pure and made good.
Give me their eyes, glistening, sun like with wisdom of kings and ages so that I can again understand life and suffering.
Hand me their hearts so their strength can be palpable and I can recognize the power in every beat of will and resilience. They’ve withstood my pain with the courage of warriors who come back again and again. And again.
Watch me run – the coward. Selfish and afraid. Confused by nothing. Filled with everything and feeling empty.
Study this fool, this idiot, and learn.
Learn what not to do.
When I was in college I first began to truly exercise my individuality. Probably more because I was increasingly alone than because I was a “late bloomer”. I began to take an interest in making the space that was mine my own and that meant decorating. Myself, my rooms, my car, everything. I realized that there were a number of opportunities to take to become my own individual. Working and going to school opened my mind to an ocean of tastes that I had for a long time left up to my parents.
In their absence I was able to redefine who I was not only in a spiritual but tangible all be it materialistic sense. Which led me to William Bougereau. being Catholic I had a strong sense of being cared for even when my parents or others weren’t around. So when I saw the paintings he’d made of angels and other ethereal creatures I was instantly a fan.
Some of the first paintings to cover the walls of my new apartments were L’inocence (the first picture which I still have today), The first Kiss( I used to have a copy of this don’t know where it ended up by still haven’t been able to find a replacement), and Le Cupidon (have a copy of this). Many people have taken the angel phenomena and made it gaudy and cheap, but something about Bougereau’s work maintains a quality and authenticity not found in other artists paintings. And as long as they aren’t framed in gold, spray-painted, plastic frames or printed on velour in flourescent, glow in the dark accents, I still love to look at the pieces. (lol)
I recently found a few I hadn’t seen before that I wanted to share. One, the one with a mother and child I posted along with a poem I wrote for my daughter.
Enjoy.
-william bougereau
BE BEAUTIFUL
Be beautiful. Take the time to tell yourself that it isn’t vain to notice you are unique.
Every band of light wrapped in your dark hair flows like mothers milk, enveloping your face, neck, wrists and trickles down to my life’s fascination your perfect little toes.
Each one picked like flowers from the Virgin Mary’s garden.
You are everything I ever wanted to be. You are perfection.
Your voice breaks the silence with each utterance drenched and heavy with the importance of life. As I watch you form each thought and tell your brain to search for just the right word my heart skips a beat, awash in the significance that each moment is wholly and completely new.
It is new to the world and to creation because it is you who are speaking it for the first time. Using that brand new to this earth, blessedly, beautiful voice and body no one in the entire world before or after except for me, right here, right now has heard or will hear again.
Not for the first time.
You are power and substance doll, you are promise and hope angel, and never forget that at one moment you held all the beauty of the virgin mother within you. Her child.
Own your blessings with honest humility and be beautiful like God made you.
Teach the world to be gentle and show it honest intentions.
True beauty of body, mind and spirit is the most sincere of honors.
To the memory of this mother who also knew purity when she saw you for the first time and to the one who had the beautiful idea to create you.
(c) 2007 Crystal Martinez
