Describe the last time you were moved to tears by something beautiful.
Photographers, artists, poets: show us BEAUTY.
So let’s get the Beauty thing behind us and then continue with my tears.
I do not need spectacular views of flower beds to show beauty. I could have shown one of my self-portrait photos, but that is a matter of taste. Yesterday the prompt was about smell and as I possess the largest nose in the area, a self portrait would have been ideal. No, I am showing the photo of a single Kerria Japonica. I have a complete bush of them, but the beauty can be shown by a single perfect flower.
Now to the teary crying bit: I am not a sloppy sentimental person. There are things that move me to tears, I am human (somewhere inside there is a heart that is actually made of flesh and blood). Give me an animal film to watch and I am crossing fingers and hoping that no animal gets killed. I cannot even watch a nature film in the wilds. There are too many true to life scenes that make me feel sad. Every day I see news reports of human disasters, but somehow human nature becomes hardened and everything just runs away like water on a duck’s back. We have so much war and atrocities in the world, all carried out in the name of territorial and religious disputes, so let us put that to one side. I do not cry, just shake my head in desperation.
The challenge says moved to tears by something beautiful. Not my type of thing. I can appreciate beauty like looking in the mirror visiting an art exhibition perhaps, although that can be a little difficult. When flowers and scenery resemble a misplaced cube with a triangle I have difficulty. In a surrealist way, clocks suspended on tree branches or heads hidden by a green apple (can you hear me Salvador Dali and Margritte) I do see a fascinating beauty, but I am not moved to take out my handkerchief and shed a few tears.
I am often nearly moved by beauty if I see a wonderful piece of jewellery, but that has more to do with the price label.
By the way we have a little problem in Switzerland with some sort of spoilt American called Oprah Winfrey. She is visiting Switzerland to attend the glorious, glamorous and expensive wedding of Tina Turner who seems to have found the toy boy man of her life. Unfortunately Oprah visited a luxury shop in the golden mile in Zürich and wanted to see a Tom Ford Jennifer handbag. The shop assistant apparently said no as the price was $38,000 and she found it would be too expensive for the customer. Just imagine the shop owner did not recognise this person. Being quite honest I would not have recognised her either. Oprah has made this public with accusations of racism etc. to the Swiss and everyone now thinks we Swiss are a bunch of racists. You know what I think Oprah Winfrey should be punished for encouraging the killing of animals for their skins. There I could cry, Oprah is still counting her millions in her bank account. Anyhow anyone interested read here.
If my son brought home a green Martian lady with eight arms and wanted to marry her it would be his choice: racism my foot, more like a chance of publicity and the stupid Swiss government even found an apology necessary.
So back to my tears which do not exist for beauty. I could cry every day when I take a walk outside, a car trip to the local supermarket by just observing the beauty around me. We take it for granted, but we do not need to visit an exhibition or see a film to appreciate it, we just have to open our eyes.
There are beautiful films and even beautiful books, but they do not move me to tears. I just have an internal appreciative feeling. Of course, this is just me, and I know many that wip out the handkerchief to dry their eyes at such influences. I am more likely to cry with laughter, but that is another prompt story.