A Love of Art

We decorated our Christmas tree yesterday.  Let me clarify: we decorated my parents’ Christmas tree yesterday.  Cut to last year and Christmas day in Barcelona: sun, sand, jamón serrano, and Anna de Codorníu cava on the beach…we’re not particularly traditional when it comes to major holidays, although since Oscar we’ve taken more pleasure in the established traditions.That said the tree, although lovely, is definitely in honour of my parents AS WELL AS our enthusiastic son…it was great fun to watch the decorating.  I especially like the cluster of ornaments (kind of reminiscent of berries) that wreath the bottom two feet, or so (Oscar is, after all, only three).  As a culinary accompaniment to the day’s activities, we served some delicious, all-be-they ‘non-traditional’, tacos.  Why not?

Mouth-watering perfection
During my preparations I came across the perfect green onion.  A goodly size, firm, crisp and a verdant green, I had to admire it (and indeed snapped a photo) before chopping it up for a garnish.  And the nature of this perfect green onion?  Crisp, juicy, and slightly resinous, with a slight sweetness, redolent with tartness and a lingering finish.  Crunch down on the flesh of the perfect onion and your mouth floods with flavours delicate, summery and alive. Flavours of sunshine, warmth and the ease that comes from languorous time in the sun: full physical comfort.

These memories of the sun are particularly potent as we approach the shortest day of the year and wake up daily to yet another dusting of snow.  Despite my hardy Canadian roots, I have never longed for winter – quite the opposite.  My time in Spain taught me once and for all that there is no need for winter as we experience it, even here in the mildest Canadian climes.

And speaking of ‘hardiness’: it is true that 2009 will go down, at least in my personal history, as the most challenging, the most punishing, the most relentlessly disappointing year on record.  What’s the lesson – that I’ve been lucky up until now?  Probably.  Am I now in a position to appreciate good fortune when it finally finds me?  Most definitely.

Back to the onion.  Perfect, pleasing in every way – the epitome of ‘onion-ness’ – despite my frustration, sadness and (sometimes) despair, it was impossible not to appreciate the onion’s small perfection when it was presented to me.

And, to extrapolate: perhaps this is, well, if not THE key to, at least an important element of happiness?

Big dreams, tiny pleasures
Let me envision all that I see for myself, what I want from life, and the reasons for my existence (at least in my own mind): these things are broad, far-reaching and extensive in scope.  They are big dreams, painted in bold colours, in broad strokes.  And yet, during these times of stress and bitter frustration, small beauty, when I find it, is what keeps me sane.  Seen close up, it’s a seemingly linear process as these moments connect to each other.  However, if I am able to take a step back, I realize that this collection of moments, these tiny steps bridging past, present and future are ringed around me like an exquisite spider’s web, or the ripples in a pond – I am in the middle of ever-widening concentric circles, bounded by beauty and buoyed up by it.

And so, day-to-day, despite the challenges, I will strive to notice and to take pleasure in these small miracles: the tiny evidence of perfection when I see it. The momentary shaft of sunlight as it breaks through the clouds, the coda of a favourite nocturne.  That little curl of hair that springs up around Oscar’s perfect ear, his whispered, “I love you, Mamá” as he falls asleep.  And the perfect onion.