Saturday, June 7, 2014

A spotless discussion of white

      A blank sheet of white paper can be as formidable as a speck of dust poking itself out on a bright morning advising me that the room needs a major cleaning. Neither writing, nor housecleaning, is a chore I want to do today. The page will remain devoid of my ramblings, and the floor will wait for the next rainy day. Decision made.

     The whole notion of white flashes back to mounds of snow, and a shiver slides down my spine recalling the piles and piles of it that I shoveled through only a few short months ago in the bitter cold. Today, the stretched-out clouds surrounded by a vivid blue sky connects me from earth to the wider universe. The warmer rays bring out my t-shirts and shorts.  Joy abounds.

     White is a color I disregard then. It certainly is not a favorite shade in my wardrobe, as I refuse to be bothered with pants or shirts that pick up dirt easily. The last time I swept my hand through the racks, I don't recall much in the line-up of white.

     The symbolic purity of white, however, and its peacefulness from any other cultural distraction, is a notion that I mindfully do accept.