The Word
I keep this fantastic photograph in the back of my head, and when I need some focus or inspiration, I return to it and focus on it for a few minutes with my eyes closed. It hangs on a side wall at my brother’s house. It’s location is casual, devoid of affect and lacking self-importance. I’d like to think that many people walk by this corner location, on an oft overlooked sidewall at the base of the stairs, glance at the photo, pause, then smile.
The photo is almost entirely black and white, not because of some incapable film from yesteryear, but because the day itself was composed of only slightly more than varying mixtures of black with white. There’s a lake, which looks black, and speckled snowfall leaving white blotches across the photo as if the lense of the camera were covered with dust. The soundless snow also gives the day an air of quiet activity, a bustling sub-environment like a silent, unimposing population of army ants going about their business beneath the surface. The snow is calming. One can hear the silence imposed on the world by the muffled flakes, reminding all of us to turn within once in a while, quiet our minds, and refocus our lives.
The tall trees behind wrap around the back of the photo, framing the lake with grandfatherly elegance. What better way to assuage the jerky mind than by listening to the wisdom of the ancients speaking of life’s beauty, the importance of good deeds, penny candy, a parent’s infinite belief in her children, and the necessity of good handwriting?
Unsuspecting snowflakes drift aimlessly down from the sky, only to melt away into the darkness of the vast lake. Haunting, outer-spacey, the water sits in stillness, possessing each flake as it lands and becomes water, giving the dark lake infinitesimilly more power with each melting. And in front of the dark lake, the fluffy shore, a tiny hill, a promontory. The foreground could be an island, only a few feet of land shown, then the land is swallowed by the lake. The tall, statuesque trees seem miles away, on the far shore. They wait in assuredness, though we are unsure from over here.
Then there is a word. A heroic word, inspiring to the deepest level of human consciousness. How could one word heal any wound of doubt, inject us with inspiration, and imbue us with the fortitude that not only overcomes any obstacle we may encounter, but urges us to seek out obstacles just for the fun of it.
Six block letters sit in the snow, rainbow colored like a pack of life-saver candy. The only color in the whole photo, simply seated unassumingly on the bank of snow at the edge of the dark lake. ‘Onward’ they read. Onward, and we understand. Whoever we are, and wherever we’re at, we recognize the importance of what this word is telling us. Let go of what you shouldn’t be holding onto. Onward.
The photo is almost entirely black and white, not because of some incapable film from yesteryear, but because the day itself was composed of only slightly more than varying mixtures of black with white. There’s a lake, which looks black, and speckled snowfall leaving white blotches across the photo as if the lense of the camera were covered with dust. The soundless snow also gives the day an air of quiet activity, a bustling sub-environment like a silent, unimposing population of army ants going about their business beneath the surface. The snow is calming. One can hear the silence imposed on the world by the muffled flakes, reminding all of us to turn within once in a while, quiet our minds, and refocus our lives.
The tall trees behind wrap around the back of the photo, framing the lake with grandfatherly elegance. What better way to assuage the jerky mind than by listening to the wisdom of the ancients speaking of life’s beauty, the importance of good deeds, penny candy, a parent’s infinite belief in her children, and the necessity of good handwriting?
Unsuspecting snowflakes drift aimlessly down from the sky, only to melt away into the darkness of the vast lake. Haunting, outer-spacey, the water sits in stillness, possessing each flake as it lands and becomes water, giving the dark lake infinitesimilly more power with each melting. And in front of the dark lake, the fluffy shore, a tiny hill, a promontory. The foreground could be an island, only a few feet of land shown, then the land is swallowed by the lake. The tall, statuesque trees seem miles away, on the far shore. They wait in assuredness, though we are unsure from over here.
Then there is a word. A heroic word, inspiring to the deepest level of human consciousness. How could one word heal any wound of doubt, inject us with inspiration, and imbue us with the fortitude that not only overcomes any obstacle we may encounter, but urges us to seek out obstacles just for the fun of it.
Six block letters sit in the snow, rainbow colored like a pack of life-saver candy. The only color in the whole photo, simply seated unassumingly on the bank of snow at the edge of the dark lake. ‘Onward’ they read. Onward, and we understand. Whoever we are, and wherever we’re at, we recognize the importance of what this word is telling us. Let go of what you shouldn’t be holding onto. Onward.
posted by Deewaah at
5:57 PM
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