Tag Archives: smile

… can one’s authentic smile fade …

Being born, we bring along a smile, which, when being mirrored over time, becomes the signature of our face. Not the cheery or cheesy smile, but the unique one, always remembered by those who know us well. Why? Because something is loosened up in the face … a happy heartbeat sneaks into an authentic smile and, if only for a fleeting instant, a glimpse of heaven is revealed. Mostly, the magic lies in the spontaneity of the smile, and its short duration.

Actors in movies convey touching smiles, at times. Meryl Streep comes to mind. In a photograph or painting this can happen, though less often. There are of course many exceptions, the most famous being Leonardo da Vinci’s enigmatic portrait of Mona Lisa. Her smile seems slowed down in time and keeps resonating with one’s own internal smile … and both linger on. Apart from Da Vinci’s excellent study and understanding of anatomy, and his accomplished painting techniques, the reason why Mona Lisa’s mysterious smile seems eternally fresh, may also have been due to the deep rapport between model and painter.  And, interestingly, Sigmund Freud theorized that Leonardo imparted an approving smile from his mother, Caterina, onto the Mona Lisa and other works. 

Each smile tells a story, open to interpretation – the smile of intimacy, friendship, reconciliation, condolence, seduction, pity, revenge, conspiracy, the haughty ‘I told you so,’ or simply bliss. It is a long list.

Can one’s authentic smile fade? Can trauma, sadness, or despair about humanity impact the signature of one’s face? Maybe, though I think even if you’re disillusioned with life, lose your teeth, or have ill-fitting dentures that change the physiognomy of your jaw and cheeks, the essence of your smile remains somehow. Maybe in the eyes, or sometimes, irrespective of a facial expression, a person radiates a peaceful atmosphere, a loving presence, which Hazrat Inayat Khan called ‘the smiling forehead.’  

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… waiting – waiting – waiting …

Why so impatient dear? I tell myself.

Apologies – can’t trace the brilliant artist

Heck, it seems instant communication has increased our endless tasks, many of which require coordination. Like in waiting for Godot, there are days when nothing moves, nothing happens … and there’s nothing to be done … Instead of waiting for a breakthrough, why not get on with your creative projects, I tell myself.

I so wish. I wish I could stop fretting about a return-call regarding my leaking boiler, about finding a solution for a technical publishing question, someone confirming a date for topping the high hedge, or locating a magician to transfer old Claris Work files to Word. What frequently ghosts my mind is finding ‘the’ right question that cuts to the core of a problem, so that Google doesn’t  add to my confusion.

A lottery win would be welcome – I could employ a secretary. Decluttering, too, is a great idea, but complex. None of several local camera clubs want a vintage darkroom equipment with an excellent enlarger, for free … There’s A, B, C and D, but unless A is done I can’t do the rest. Or unless C is done I can’t do A and B and D. Back to waiting.

Then there is last night’s dream. What to make of a snowstorm just when I start out for an appointment, followed by a surfing car drive among steep sandy hills – is it dunes in a desert, or an industrial sandpit? And who are the aliens with kind teddy-bear-eyes running a bar in this desolate place, offering me lemonade, which I loathe. Give me coffee, anytime. What are they and what am I doing there? This puzzle must wait for another dream.

Drawing by Natasha Tonkin   …         – a scene from my garden –

Normally, during such waiting times, I escape frustration by dipping into media articles to lift my boredom … but it seems the riveting tragic/comic Brexit drama has also come to a standstill.

So like Vladimir and Estragon in Samuel Beckett’s absurd play, I endure these ‘what’s-the-point-moments’ while waiting for things to happen, like they’re waiting for signs to affirm their existence.

*    *    *

Ah, wait, wow, all of a sudden birds descend on my garden, among them my Robin friend, evoking an honest smile as it peers at me through the window beyond my laptop. Within the hour two tasks on my to-do  list are miraculously solved.

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