It’s What You See

I really like this quote from Henry David Thoreau –

It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see.

I’m trying to adopt that philosophy as I wander around my neighbourhood looking for inspiration and stories.

It is amazing what you see when you look.

This magnolia flower, already hot pink, easing open more and more each day as the sun rises more warmly towards spring. I was so impressed by the symmetry of its progress that I checked to see if there was a lever inside but there was nothing, only soft, blushing otherworldliness.

This is a cake shop in King Street, Newtown, but it made me think how wondrous a thing it would be if an actual town existed named Caketown. Can you imagine a town made entirely of cake? Or where the major currency was cake? Or where social status was achieved according to the complexity and depth of  your cake flavours? I know I would be happy if I lived in Caketown. I know I would fit in. Caketown – all about the cake, all the time. Postcode 2300-YUM.

I love skyscrapers. Such incredible feats of engineering. I have seen crews cleaning the windows on this building and I wonder how they hold onto their nerve (or their lunch.) That is a job that almost falls into the extreme sport category – window cleaning at 500 feet.

I see this boat all the time. Near the Fish Markets it stays, all proud, its mast straight and erect like a soldier with its chest puffed out. I wonder what it must be like to live on a boat like that – all day on the sea, watching the light open and close. Feeling the sweet ebb and flow of the tides.

I like the industrial push of the old power station at White Bay. It has a sci-fi, end of the world feel to it with its smoke stacks interrupting the skyline and its abandoned buildings. Sometimes when I walk by it I imagine a group of post-apocalyptic humans who are now part-cyborg lying in wait for me with the intent of sucking all of the stories out of my head. It is a creepy place to walk on a quiet day.

People say there’s no love in the world anymore, that we are all too cynical or disillusioned or afraid to express our feelings. Well, whoever loves Zoe isn’t. How nice to be loved so much, to be truly someone’s darling that they will write that love on a laneway wall. Signs of love really do turn up in unexpected places.

Random images, surprising us, pleasing us, gifts to us. There is something different, galvanizing, everywhere we look. All around us, above and below. So much to look at that matters. So much to see.