Michael Forbus's Blog – July 2009 Archive (8)

To me, then, true criticism consists in trying to find out the intrinsic worth of the thing itself, and not in attributing a quality to that thing. You attribute a quality to an environment, to an experience, only when you want to derive something from it, when you want to gain or to have power or happiness. Now this destroys true criticism. Your desire is perverted through attributing values, and therefore you cannot see clearly. Instead of trying to see the flower in its original and… Continue

Mexican Orchid For La Florita



P

aco picked this orchid for La Florita, his love, during the Festival of the Dead in Oaxaca. He was to meet her in the Zócalo at Zaruela's. He waited and waited and paid the mariachi to play Una Paloma Blanca over and over. They didn't mind. He also was heavy handed with the liter of El Presidente he had at the table.



He cradled the orchid as he would a wounded bird and splashed ice water on it for hours and finally it began to… Continue

Miguel and Paloma



M

y beautiful Paloma, there was a time in my life when I was not calm. I was a vessel with a tattered sail tossed about in an ominous sea.



As a young man, I had become quite restless and when I finally was of age I went to sea. It was no place for a young boy, but the closeness to death every week helped me grow the body of a man and the mind followed. We were a rough bunch and I always tried to remain a gentleman. I studied while at sea and… Continue

Lavender Orchids For The Queen of Light



I

was born without sight in San Paolo. My dear parents went to God shortly thereafter from the tainted water in the street. I lived in a box of a house in the Thieves’ Ghetto. I had to beg for food or visit the garbage heap as a last resort. I always thought I could see shadows and light but probably not. The darkness was bad for the child and the adult as they had to lead me through the barrio to the piles of garbage that we ate. I had… Continue

D

o you remember coming back from the long hike to the ruins, burning from the sun, to this beautiful room full of evening light, sheer mosquito netting and the Aztec sun orchids that adorned our room? My only flora, do you remember? We had a few cold Negra Modelos and you put lemons in yours, as you cared not for the yuppie lime. I always laughed at that. You were always so different than anyone I ever knew.



You laid the vase on the bed cradled in the pillows and just stared… Continue

"Truth is more in the process than in the result."

~ Jiddu Krishnamurti

“I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way.”

I woke way before dawn today and again my heart was telling me lies. Before I had the morning tea, my head began to remind me how old I was. The sadness washed over me like the Scottish rain in the Highlands. I had been in a state of solitude for half of my life and it looked like the other half was headed that way. I had a stone house I had built and a sturdy farm horse. As always, I planted a sumptuous garden, as blooms are food for the eyes.



I needed to take a long walk to… Continue