I apologize for my absence yesterday. It wasn't intentional. You can thank our glitchy monitor for that. We now have a new one that is so huge it makes me feel like I'm typing up a Reader's Digest article for old people. Which is to say, my eyes are completely comfortable and I can see what I'm doing. *Sigh* I am aging. No denying it.
Yesterday I was watching a show on TV when the football team showed up for practice in the field behind our house. They started counting off push-ups and doing their team spirit rah-rah crap. I strained to hear Guy Fieri's secret to his beef brisket marinade while glowering in the general direction of the football team. Then in a moment of brilliance, I turned up the volume.
I'm slow, but I can be taught.
So, I'm thinking... sometimes it's good to see things bigger, sometimes it's good to hear things louder. I'm not denying the necessity of a microcosmic view. I know that if I get too close to a Seurat painting, I'll lose the focus. I'm not unaware that Chopin's Nocturnes require a soft, finessed touch.
But there's also a time when we need our socks knocked off by something grand, when we need our teeth rattled by some booming tunes, when we need to be immersed in the thing we're seeing, or hearing, or doing to the exclusion of all else.
Jumping and becoming one with the sun and the wind makes kissing the ground that much sweeter. Spending the day gazing at a huge mountain range makes roasting a marshmallow by the fire that much more luxurious.
There's a saying, "Go big or go home."
I say, "Go big and go home."