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A Rose is a Rose is a Rose. Why?

I have never really understood that quote of Gertrude Steins.

I saw a new bird today on my beach walk. My first response was to get out the bird book to identify it. That astonished me.

As I stilled my mind’s excitement, I saw two birds then three then five. They weren’t camouflaged to look like either sand or driftwood yet I almost missed seeing them. Why?

How much of the world do we not see, missing the whole experience because our minds are too busy to process the information that is right before our eyes?

Is the naming of a thing replacing the understanding of the thing?How can a rose be only a rose? They differ from one another in so many ways. The biggest for me is smell. They all have their own individual scent.The wild rose here, which is a huge bush with clusters of tiny white flowers has a scent that is the essence of the hand lotion my mother used when I was a child. So by association it smells like hand lotion not like a rose.I have a iris variety, left-overs from the church bazaar a few years ago which smells like grape Kool-Aid, not like iris, except to an older generation who didn’t grow up with grape Kool-Aid, to them is smells of Iris.“Talking is often a torment for me, and I need many days of silence to recover from the futility of words”

Carl Jung

From the book On Silence by Joseph Dispenza

If we were as sensitive to the visual world would that too overwhelm us and force us back to darkness?

One of my most enjoyable summers was spent sitting under a moveable umbrella following the light around the garden to paint these small (8 x 12 inch) watercolours.

About geri binks


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