I am a visual person, so pinterest has been a wonderful source for me, not only serving me creatively but also therapeutically. I find myself going there when I am out of sorts, so that I may soak up the loveliness of my collected images. Afterwards, my heart feels softened and my body dreams it is gently dancing.
I tend to move in and out of two moods, the subtle and the soft, the wild and the peaceful. But when I am feeling tender, it is always the soft, the peaceful, I go to for comfort.
It is the same (although slightly less so) with books. Last night, for example, I drew out my old copy of The Scarlet Pimpernel and luxuriated in a couple of scenes from it. The begads and zooks and the sweetness of Marguerite's dear little toes do annoy me, but really it is one of the most wonderful romances, and Percy is one of my favourite heroes, despite his inability to talk like a real man. (Don't you agree someone should make this book into an updated movie? Same story, stronger language?)
I must admit, I feel a little nervous telling you this. There's a real sense these days that a woman can't love lace, blossom, and quaint romances and still be deemed strong and intelligent. I read an article yesterday about how "being a lady" is coming back into fashion - but infact all they meant was that the word lady had been reclaimed in an ironic sense by all the strong fierce rapping bitches (if you'll pardon my language - I was raised to never use such words in good company (although I certainly use them in private), but nowadays it's perfectly normal.)
Am I a twit because I love tea and roses and Percy Blakeney and little English cottages? If it reassures you, I also love bleak moors, combat boots, action films, and humour as black as the blackest coffee. And I respect any woman's comforts, be they yoga and mythic poetry or pistol practice on the range or whittling or salsa dancing.. I also envy you if you find cosiness and repair in something trendy or socially acceptable, because that must make it easier. It seems to me that much of the backlash against feminism (and I personally am in favour of feminism) is due to some women feeling their choices for the furnishment of their spirit home are no longer respected.
I wonder, if women aren't encouraged to seek softness and tenderness, how will we care for ourselves? No one can be forever strong without cracks beginning to show. No one should have to be.
sharing with roses of inspiration