And beauty said, "boo!"

Sometimes beauty creeps up on you in the most unexpected places.  For me, it often comes in the form of food.  It could be seeing a gorgeous piece of meat in the window of a butcher's case at Whole Foods.  I don't know why, but I fall in love with the deep red color of raw beef or tuna.  Where does that come from?  Is it some primal part of me that rears up to roar every so often?  I don't even particularly want to eat the raw meat-- it's just so pretty.  Or sometimes, I take a bite of something completely commonplace like bread, and it's so good it makes my mouth water as I chew it.  It's the most unexpected, wonderful thing.  It's exactly what I wanted at that moment and I didn't even know it.

Yesterday, I experienced a non-food related version of this phenomenon.  I was holed up in my apartment (not even hiding from gangs!), and I was feeling kind of restless.  I knew there were these very general "things" I should be doing, but I couldn't focus and I couldn't even decide whether to sit down or take a shower, eat or make a phone call.  I was just sort of standing in front of my bookshelf, staring at the way the books were grouped.  I was completely ignoring the basket of clean laundry that had been waiting to be put away for about 5 days.  All of a sudden this clear, beautiful voice cut in through the haze.  My neighbor was singing opera and it was like a scene in a movie where a prisoner somehow gains access to a record player and is able to broadcast the music over the entire prison.  The music changes the entire mood.  It calms anger, it gives hope.  I was listening to a friend the other day talk about her job working with autistic children and how music actually enhances learning for them.

For me, I couldn't get enough of it.  This wasn't even the first time I had heard that neighbor practice her singing, but for some reason it was more beautiful to me now than in the other times.  How unexpected and yet, exactly what I needed.

Happiness

So early it's still almost dark out.
I'm near the window with coffee,
and the usual early morning stuff
that passes for thought.

When I see the boy and his friend
walking up the road
to deliver the newspaper.

They wear caps and sweaters,
and one boy has a bag over his shoulder.
They are so happy
they aren't saying anything, these boys.

I think if they could, they would take
each other's arm.
It's early in the morning,
and they are doing this thing together.

They come on, slowly.
The sky is taking on light,
though the moon still hangs pale over the water.

Such beauty that for a minute
death and ambition, even love,
doesn't enter into this.

Happiness. It comes on
unexpectedly. And goes beyond, really,
any early morning talk about it.

-Raymond Carver