Beauty, many forms of

These are jellyfish in a tank at Mandalay Bay. I found the picture when I was posting yesterday and find them strangely compelling. I stared at them forever, both in person and on my computer screen.

Wanting to post the photo, but unsure of what context to use, I decided to note that I've come across websites that I think are even more compelling than the jellyfish illuminated with purple light.

* Veronica writes beautifully. I leave her work feeling a bit sad and challenged - always marveling at her talent. While I'll read anything the Waiter recommends, I particularly enjoyed this link.

* I came across an exquisite site, and I've looked at Christine's art several times since then. I translated my complimentary email into French via google - I like her art enough to go through the extra effort. It's profound somehow that I don't need to speak French to appreciate her work a great deal.

* I adore Charlie - I love that he reads what I write, and see him as a thoughtful, benevolent presence here. I also see him as having considerable talent. Some of his work evokes my memories of Japan; all of it impresses me. And I'm waiting for the update on the polar bear.

I view my writing style as conversational. While I'm working at getting better - including more dialogue, improving flow, decreasing length - I don't find my posts at all difficult to understand. If I'm trying to tell you something, I'll make it as clear as possible.

What I find interesting about art - how I'd categorize these links - is that it's more challenging to fully appreciate. I spend more time - squinting at images, trying to see the subtle hints that enhance the experience, reading posts multiple times trying to see past the lyrical flow to the story within the words.

I have no talent in the visual arts or poetry, and I feel a bit shy about my interest in them. I often feel as though I'm missing something - that I don't have the background necessary to really understand the message. Perhaps my enjoyment of them is enough.

Regardless, I feel like I did with the jellyfish. I'm standing in the left corner of the original photo, close to the glass, face upturned in a thoughtful expression, a bit awed, a bit confused. I was embarrassed the first time I saw the picture M had taken. Now, I like it - the thought of being outside of my own thoughts, stretching myself to understand something that's not completely clear to me. Finding some sort of profound beauty in the unexpected.