If you see something (or dare I say, someone) that you or others would label an “eyesore” or pain-in-the-ass. Look again. I dare you to find beauty and meaning in those things. It is difficult; but, it can lead to new understandings, acceptance and maybe even appreciation. My interest in dumpsters or what others may call containers (or whatever you use to collect rubbish, trash, garbage) is well known and long standing. Dumpsters are not only utilitarian but can reveal a beauty that was forged within their utilitarian function. This morning (2/14/21) I decided to head out with my camera (my valentine – LOL). I came across this large dumpster at a building where construction was being done. I almost never ever pass up a dumpster opportunity and this was no exception. You can see from the first image – the setting. Unimpressive, maybe even documentary. But that doesn’t stop me. That’s just the entry point for my imagination and creative thinking. I somehow am inspired by suffering, difficulty and challenges and find they are signposts along the road of life to happiness. I don’t seek them out but when they present themselves I do seek to turn around those situations into something worthwhile or worth living for.
Hinge: It all hinges on seeing that difficulty as an open door to something better. Unexpected – most likely. But a door or pathway revealed that I may not have considered before.
Overview: When we are confronted by such a door we must take a step back and take time to look at the details.
Details: These details offer clarity, understanding and unapologetic saturation and texture that makes it possible for us to complete the transformation from repulsion to acceptance and maybe even a sense of beauty. Art. Life is art – from beginning through to the end – and after the end, in memory and spirit.
*to view larger individual images in order: click on the first image below showing the dumpster in it’s habitat. Then click on the arrows to navigate through the complete set of images.
There is a long proud history of bawdy humor in literature of all types including poetry. I’ve decided it’s time I give it a go at low brow humor.
Farting is the sound
of the body’s marching band.
Its trumpeting brass,
thunderous drums, and
the delicate squeak of the clarinet.
released from within,
expelled with force or
slipping out through the cracks
in a hissing wind.
Grand multi-sensory experience –
whether earthquaking, embarrassingly obvious
or silent and deadly;
a bowel-shaking satisfaction
will always make you smile.
Polite society is no place for me.
Let the face bunch up in laughter
and let the ears tingle.
LET IT RIP! (and of course)
pass the nose-plugs please.
for more laughs….