Kawabata’s Lament

You remember how the heavens trembled when East met West.  The abrasion of opposing ideologies, like the curving line that snakes across the yin-yang.  And how our insatiable lust for perfection outshone even sense and reason.  How the new always won, and became more economical then the repair.  The idea that thirty thousand dollars for a new car somehow makes more sense than an eight hundred dollar repair.  We do it to ourselves.  with paints and dye and even surgery.  Across the fine-raked pea gravel of our garden lay the last dying leaves of the art of mending.  The wild thing within us caged, buried, tortured by neglect.  No wonder.  No wonder…

In a culture with
No room for imperfection
How is beauty known?

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22 thoughts on “Kawabata’s Lament

  1. Excellent take on the prompt! You’ve nailed it here. I think of all those magazine covers and articles with movie stars photo shopped and readers striving to look like them….buying that cream that will erase all the wrinkles. The days of the tv repair man are gone and now we just toss the one that still works but isn’t “smart.” Bravo indeed to your words here.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. You’d think so, but how many people find beauty in what others find hideous or vulgar or just trashy and trite? Or prefer the plastic perfection of a canna lily to a full blown rose? It’s in the eye of the beholder, but I tend to think that irt’s wrong-headed to try to create perfection. The raked gravel without a stone out of place seems sterile to me, and a flowering tree with every bloom intact. You don’t make the setting any less sterile by artfully scattering a few well-chosen petals about. Seems to me 🙂

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  2. I think my mother, unbeknownst to her, was the Queen of Wabi-Sabi . She mended, restored and repurposed EVERYTHING. She called it “making do” (Why buy a new one, when we can “make do” with this). You’ve jogged my memory.

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