'God is beautiful and loves beauty" (Muslim)
A striking painting; a handsome face; a poignant phrase; maybe even a fashionable combination of clothing. It all comes down to beauty doesn’t? I’m intrigued by the concept of beauty in all its forms. You can even go so far to call me a beauty hunter. A lot of my past times come down to searching for beauty in the little pleasures of life.
Beauty in nature is the most obvious form of beauty and ranges from people to landscapes. The art of it is in it’s purity and the wonder it inspires in us. I can’t help but be amazed as a sphere of light rises up on the horizon each morning or at the never ending blanket of stars in the evening.
The art of stringing a dictionary of words into something remarkable gives us literature. An intriguing form of beauty and perhaps one that requires the least vanity yet has a great effect on many. The beauty in literature Is the worlds it opens up for people with just words, the influx of new ideas and concepts to the individual and most of all the escapism it provides so well.
Flair for fashion is another amazing form of beauty. I could spend hours watching the catwalks of Milan and Paris as swanky models stride to chic music and browsing through webpage’s of favourable designers. The vibrant colours, the variety of textures and the constantly evolving designs are simply captivating. There’s just so much to it and with the right combination the end result is beauty.
Funny enough watching a group off 22 men run after a leather ball can be mesmerising at times. It can be said that football is literature in action. Instead of words beings put together it’s a series of passes. The fluid movements with which the ball is passed with has the grace of a dance especially when the end result is a goal.
Friday, June 25, 2010
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Insomnia
Insomnia. Defined as the inability to fall asleep or remain asleep and something I certainly seem to be suffering from. I just can’t sleep. It seems like my mind has the irritating habit of just buzzing- continuously. I swear its worse then a crowd of vuvuzela’s at a bafana match. My mind flows from thoughts of the past to hopes for the future seamlessly.
The future. I think my insomniac mind is a specialist in that subject. In the odd hours of the morning is when my creative buzzes seem to work best. Things I need to do, want to do and really should do. It’s like a brain storming session on my life until I get tired of tossing and turning with the endless ebb and flow of thought in my mind and turn on the light.
Yes, the light. The most irritating thing to do is turn on a light when your eyes have been closed or in darkness for a couple of hours. Once all is adjusted and well I turn my attention to a book which holds my attention for a while but my soul is just to restless this time of the morning to read for long. On nights when my energy supply is low I turn to tv. Anything from news to weird education programmes seems to hold my attention until my mind is to tired to think and will comply with the rest of body and sleep. It’s like an exercise in tiring out the mind (which is way harder then studying for an engineering exam and more strenuous then running a marothom). However, by far the worst part of being an insomniac is the morning after.
If I ever drank I bet the feeling of a hangover is similar to that of an insomniac finally able to fall of to sleep when those stupid alarms go off. I mean can it really be morning already??? It feels like I’ve been sleeping for less then 5 minutes. Oh well, welcome to the life of an insomniac: make night day and keep day as day. And, yes if anybody’s wondering I’m writing this at 2 in the morning. I just had to get this out my mind so it would be one less vuvuzela in the crowd which happens to be my mind.
The future. I think my insomniac mind is a specialist in that subject. In the odd hours of the morning is when my creative buzzes seem to work best. Things I need to do, want to do and really should do. It’s like a brain storming session on my life until I get tired of tossing and turning with the endless ebb and flow of thought in my mind and turn on the light.
Yes, the light. The most irritating thing to do is turn on a light when your eyes have been closed or in darkness for a couple of hours. Once all is adjusted and well I turn my attention to a book which holds my attention for a while but my soul is just to restless this time of the morning to read for long. On nights when my energy supply is low I turn to tv. Anything from news to weird education programmes seems to hold my attention until my mind is to tired to think and will comply with the rest of body and sleep. It’s like an exercise in tiring out the mind (which is way harder then studying for an engineering exam and more strenuous then running a marothom). However, by far the worst part of being an insomniac is the morning after.
If I ever drank I bet the feeling of a hangover is similar to that of an insomniac finally able to fall of to sleep when those stupid alarms go off. I mean can it really be morning already??? It feels like I’ve been sleeping for less then 5 minutes. Oh well, welcome to the life of an insomniac: make night day and keep day as day. And, yes if anybody’s wondering I’m writing this at 2 in the morning. I just had to get this out my mind so it would be one less vuvuzela in the crowd which happens to be my mind.
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