“Wabi-sabi is everything that today’s sleek, mass-produced, technology-saturated culture isn’t. It’s flea markets, not shopping malls; aged wood, not swank floor coverings; one single morning glory, not a dozen red roses. Wabi-sabi understands the tender, raw beauty of a gray December landscape and the aching elegance of an abandoned building or shed. It celebrates cracks and crevices and rot and all the other marks that time and weather and use leave behind. To discover wabi-sabi is to see the singular beauty in something that may first look decrepit and ugly… Bringing wabi-sabi into your life doesn’t require money, training, or special skills. It takes a mind quiet enough to appreciate muted beauty, courage not to fear bareness, willingness to accept things as they are — without ornamentation. It depends on the ability to slow down, to shift the balance from doing to being, to appreciating rather than perfecting.”—Robyn Griggs Lawrence
Picking summer strawberries so ripe they melt in your mouth, sweet little nothings at the tip of my fingers. Tart little cherries that burst on the tongue, hanging like bright rubies from a tree so old it leans and groans under the weight of it’s precious jewels. Sink my feet into the black earth, feel it burn under my soles and tickle between my toes. Grass stains on my knees that leave a tingle long after I have moved. The wind dances through my hair and the sun warms my shoulders, summer’s kiss so sweet it leaves me dizzy.