Beautiful Things: The Paper Wasp
The quote above is attributed to Camille Pissarro. He was a painter (one of my favorites) but I loved him most for his words of wisdom. I gathered them up in a little notebook back when I was a teen but that treasure was lost decades ago.
You've likely seen those treasures before, tweaked ever so slightly by those wishing to appear "deep". Pissarro died in 1903 but I like to think he would not mind the deviations nor the universal harmony woven by them.
"Blessed are they who see beautiful things in humble places where other people see nothing."
My clique back in the day adhered to this model of thinking. We were punk. Our world was filled with blue-collar grit, shit jobs, and society beating us down. Our attire was a middle finger to social norms, and our violence an outburst of our frustrations, but we took stock of the humble places and smiled at the beauty that "normal" people never took the time to look for. It was as simple as walking through the alley on a foggy night and spotting pretty mushrooms dotting the walls of buildings.
My Better Half also has the ability to see beauty in humble places, though he's as far from punk as someone could be. Forget suits. It's all Hawaiian shirts, shorts in January, and flip flops.
Russ had brought Jeff along on our lizard quest. We carefully climbed the curved concrete legs of the old open spandrel arch bridge, and then cringed in horror as Jeff climbed to the very top and began running along the crossbeams in an effort to impress me.
This brings me to another favorite Pissarro quote: "God takes care of imbeciles, little children and artists."
The bridge walking was idiotic but not imbecilic.
I love Jeff because he retains a child's wonder at the world, sometimes pausing to point out the beautiful things I might have otherwise missed... A marigold growing from a crack in the pavement, a praying mantis taking up residency on our porch, the beauty of moss on our old maple tree. (I love Jeff for a lot of reasons besides this one.)
Bee Thing turned up while we were sitting on the back porch. She alighted on my arm to say hello, but I knew she had visited just to snoop around my coffee mug. Alas, it contained wine. I dabbed some on the table for her to taste. She seemed to enjoy it, soon darting off to tell her friends, and returning with a companion I had not met before.
(The new arrival lacked manners, alighting on my chest or in my hair. I had not earned her trust yet, nor did she have mine. I gently shoo'd her away.)
I honestly don't know what Jeff thought of the whole encounter. I refuse to touch bugs and spiders when they come indoors. I'd rather attack them with hair spray and a cigarette lighter. I'm highly allergic to them and no longer have an Epipen.Yet there we were, sitting at the table while Bee Thing walked from my arm to my hand. I'm hoping that seeing her up close allowed him to glimpse something beautiful.