precious little things

I was going to write a whole post on things I learned on Facebook, but I started to go over the content in my head while I was cutting the bushes and realized there probably wasn’t all that much there.

One of the most interesting things to me is that Facebook is a clear record of those times when I was more gregarious and those times when I was, well, introverted. High School, college and, now seem to be the three big times in my life when I formed lasting friendships, and the friendships that I formed seem to be pretty good.

I was pretty insecure growing up, who isn’t, and was pleasantly surprised to find people were just as happy to reconnect with me as I was with them. Moreover, old friends actually made a point of telling me that they had thought about me from time to time over the intervening years and that on a few occasions, I had actually made some impact on a few individuals lives. Spooky.

I was painting the other day and decided that the painting looked, well rainbowish. I recalled a proof by Descartes that discussed the optics of the Rainbow and superimposed the image onto the painting. Later, playing with S. in the yard I watched as she darted to and fro through a sprinkler. As one point she stopped and retraced her steps and stared at the stream of water. “A rainbow” she exclaimed. I couldn’t see one but realized almost instantly that she had purposefully retraced her steps because the rainbow was only visible from one particular point of view. It was Descartes theorem. I think I am going to paint a gigantic image of a push-up frozen ice cream treat in the middle of that painting reminding me of the outside fun and games of my own youth, as well as my time spent with S.

Both the image of the proof and the push-pop came unbidden and at completely different times. I am not even sure how they fit together, even after telling you about it here, but the thing is, they do and I I feel it, as much as know it.

Some things seem to matter so much and other things just fall off the radar. Worse I am a terrible judge of what those moments will be. I have a crystal clear memory of putting ketchup on some french fries at the pool when I was about six. Just the ketchup. Nothing else. But I remember that moment with such pristine clarity that I can actually summon the scent and the taste of the gleaming red liquid. I would tell you more but the baby is crying and least this be one of those moments for her, I am off to rescue her from what is undoubtedly only a minor inconvenience