All they had left were a few simple words.
A few simple words were all that they needed.
Take out the flowers
Throw out the dirty water
Rinse out the vase
Put it away
René Ricard (1979-1980)
Everyday is a new day.
How cliché. How true.
Except I dried those flowers and locked them in a state of semi-permanence.
Cherry blossoms and its impermanence are a cruel but beautiful reminder of how fickle, fragile and finite our emotions can be. As we watch them wilt and scatter, we stand and gaze with the hope of seeing the same beauty and magnificence again one day. We cannot do the same for certain things in life.
This René Ricard poem. Its brutal simplicity speaks such truth.
A mundane act of cleaning out a vase could hold such significance.
Either that, or I am being overly dramatic and sensitive these days. Fucking hormones. And general exhaustion.