A diverse offering twixt the interesting, the unusual, and the amusing.
Monday, 30 December 2013
I (don't) wanna be like you-ou-ou.
(This is a re-write from a piece I posted about three years ago).
When I was about 14, I had one of those 'light-bulb moments' that totally changed my life; for the better!
At school we had a communal bathroom with a row of about 8 hand basins; each basin having it's own mirror.
Every morning, myself and a row of similarly aged boys could be seen combing our hair, trying to look like Elvis. We would bend our knees, curl our upper lips, and maybe even sing a few lines from 'Blue suede shoes' as we wetted our locks and fashioned them into a poor imitation of the great man's quiff.
One morning that light-bulb suddenly lit brightly above my head as I looked at my own reflection in horror. What the bloody hell was I doing?
It was like a lightning bolt. I knew that I would NEVER be anything like Elvis; so why bother. I didn't have his looks, I didn't have his talent, and I certainly didn't have his magnetic personality. So why the hell was I trying to imitate his hairstyle?
Everything instantly became clear. I should just be who/what I am, not worry about what I look like, and get on with my life without the weighty bloody baggage of Narcissus gnawing at my heels.
I can honestly say that from that very moment in front of the mirror, I have never worried about what I 'physically' look like.
OK, I've never been 'handsome', but what the hell! It's not held me back in life, nor have I agonised about it. In fact, accepting this reality has liberated me as forcefully as how others must be unconsciously welded to their mirrors.
There is nothing wrong in admiring a film, or pop, star, but to want to be like them is sad. To imitate is flattering, but if by doing so the person imagines that some of their hero's talent will somehow become ascribed to them, then they are being sadly disillusioned.
I remember that very moment in front of the mirror as if it was yesterday; its revelation was truly life altering.
We went with friends to the Scallop festival in Whitianga; a charming
seaside town in the Coromandal District.
Had a great time...5000 people, lots of wine...
3 years ago
The difference between an optimist and a pessimist, is that the optimist enjoys himself whilst waiting for the inevitable! I AM that optimist!
This is a daily, optimistic, 'photos and comments' blog. I make no judgements (only occasionally), just notes. If you wish to comment in any way at all, please feel free. Everything and everyone is very welcome.
I was born just south of London, but for the past 44 years I've lived in S W France. I am a painter by profession, and writer by desire. Lady Magnon and I live in an ancient cottage, in a tiny village, in perfectly tranquil countryside. We have a vegetable garden called 'Haddock's' (this may crop up from time to time), a Border Collie/Black Lab' cross called Bok, a cat called Freddie, plenty of fruit trees, and a view that takes the breath away. I try to treat our planet with respect, and encourage others to do likewise (without preaching).
Contentment is a glass of red, a plate of charcuterie, and a slice of good country bread. Perfect!