In my blog on 17 April, I wrote about my attempts to write about ‘My Most Beautiful Thing.’ The truth is, I haven’t written much at all since then. A few lines. Some small edits.
Today I’m taking part in the My Most Beautiful Thing Blogsplash to celebrate beautiful things – inspired by Fiona Robyn’s new novel, The Most Beautiful Thing. Bloggers from all over the world are taking part and writing or posting pictures of their most beautiful things today. Find out more here and see everyone else’s blog posts here.
I haven’t been writing, but I’ve been doing lots of reading. Reading is good. Reading lifts your spirits. I’ve been reading Suzanne Power’s Heart Lines and this will be followed by Fiona Robyn’s novel, The Most Beautiful Thing. My fiction treat is Vanessa Gebbie’s The Coward’s Tale. I’ve been eyeing it on my pile for a few months now, looking forward to hearing that Welsh lilt.
All of these books have something in common (at least in my current eyes): the struggle for meaning, our attempts to make sense of the world, the places in it and the strange places where we find ourselves. So how is this related to my blogsplash of My Most Beautiful Thing, I hear you ask?
Within all of these struggles there is hope.
No matter how meaning fails us, how much the fog of the morning blocks your view of the beauty of what lies ahead, hope is just over the horizon. Consider this photo I took of the Bernatek footbridge in Krakow, Poland.
Krakow is a city with such a past of suffering that, for me, the locks of love attached to the structure of the bridge show such a wonderful optimism and the hope of a nation which once had very little.
So the beautiful thing is not in itself the most beautiful thing (after all, how do we quantify hope-as-beauty?) but that which it represents:
Being hopeful, having hope but most of all creating hope is my very most beautiful thing.