Chrisonomicon

Wednesday, May 7, 2003

I bought a handful of stalky flowers yesterday in prep for an evening with some family. The plants were three-foot-long, fibrous, grassy looking strings of blood-red bulbs that seemed to act as light accelerators, absorbing the flourescance of the store or the rays of the sun and re-emitting the light, hotter, faster, redder. Carrying this bouquet caused an astounding transformation. People noticed, they stopped to compliment my taste in botanicals -- some even pursuaded to stand and chat for a while -- as a much larger change took place within, a small smile spreading across my face, my head held a little higher as I beared the handful of beauty, a commodity that meets none of our basic needs for survival, selected soley on appearance or fragrance, and holds such connective power over our species.