Malaise, Mastroianni, and Me

Now, I'm not complaining, but if you asked me what I had to complain about if I were of a mind to, and I ticked off everything that's not entirely comfortable in my life right now, you might agree that it's been a rich tapestry lately. Like, I'm watching 8 1/2 last night, and I can't help being haunted by Mastroianni's eyes—for his character, Guidi Anselmi, work, love, life as a whole has become a game he's weary to the bone with. I can't say I'm quite there yet, but I'm as close to the Guido end of the Perky-Jaded Continuum as I've been in a while.

But then on the other hand, as I'm taking out the trash this morning I notice a few stray honeysuckle flowers, and remembered that I've been struck by their delicacy and wanted to photograph them. And you know what? I actually thought they were beautiful, reminiscent of orchids, really. Of course they're not as big as orchids. But all that means is that you have to look a little closer.