Sumangali.org: In The Spirit Of Serendipity

The serendipitous Pavitrata Taylor is one of my favourite photographers, so I thought I’d show you some of his art. This is called “A Job Of Work”

I could go on, but I know nothing of photography other than my immense enjoyment of it…

There is a little slideshow on my homepage if you want to see more, or you can see even more at The Sri Chinmoy Centre Gallery.

I’m including this one because I’ve just bought a flat that needs renovating, and I feel like this chap in the photo juggling various tasks and aspects of life… hence my relative quietude…

(choose bath taps)… (pick up tiles)… (cup of tea)… (book the joiner)… (walk the dog)… (eat?)… (buy food)… (eat)… (more tea)… (carpet grippers)… (ouch)… (buy plasters)… (breathe in)… (breathe out)… (meditate)… … … (work? maybe)… (sleep? yes)… (meditate)… (start again)…

(Actually it’s not just me juggling at all; lots of very nice people keep turning up at the right moment to lend a hand. It seems serendipity extends to home improvements)…

Sumangali
(dog-tired, scruffier than usual, very happy, extremely grateful)

I found this image yesterday on Flickr.com. Not only is it an exquisite shot (one of many exquisite shots by Maureen F), but I find it symbolic. The entire sun is clasped by a tiny fragile petal.

It reminds me of one of my favourite pieces of poetry:

“And truly, I reiterate, . . nothing’s small!
No lily-muffled hum of a summer-bee,
But finds some coupling with the spinning stars;
No pebble at your foot, but proves a sphere;
No chaffinch, but implies the cherubim:
And,–glancing on my own thin, veined wrist,–
In such a little tremour of the blood
The whole strong clamour of a vehement soul
Doth utter itself distinct. Earth’s crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God:
But only he who sees, takes off his shoes…”
—Elizabeth Barrett Browning
From Book Seven of Aurora Leigh

…which reminds me that God is everywhere, equally in the tiniest, most fragile detail, as in the mightiest force. Somehow that is greatly comforting, although it means He is really all alone… but somehow that’s comforting too… which reminds me of a song by my meditation teacher:

“In atom and in pollen and in human frames
my life abides.
All beauty am I, immutable am I.
I drink my ambrosia all alone.“
—Sri Chinmoy
Translation of Anute Renute

Today Maureen F has put a caption to her latest masterpiece:

“Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or we find it not.”
—Ralph Waldo Emerson

Food for thought…