“When I'm working on a problem, I never think about beauty. I think only how to solve the problem. But when I have finished, if the solution is not beautiful, I know it is wrong.”
-- R. Buckminster Fuller, architect, designer, inventor (1895-1983)
A short moment of rambling thought.
I'm a fairly private person. I don't let many people into my world, not anymore. I have many friends, few of which are close, and fewer are those I allow inside. My world is orderly, to a point. My shirts hang in one direction with the second button from the top buttoned, my underwear is tri-folded and neatly stacked, and I really prefer to iron my own shirts so they are just right. There is generally a place for everything, and I like everything in its place. I accept authority because it is my desire to do so, not because the authority thinks I care. For forty years of my life, I have worked at what I wanted, and I've taken grief as a consequence of doing what I choose with full knowledge that, at a moment's notice, I could bend over, slap my lily-white derriere and say, "Kiss it! I'm so outta here!"
And then there is my work area.
“He who works with his hands is a laborer. He who works with his hands and his head is a craftsman. He who works with his hands and his head and his heart is an artist.”
-- St. Francis of Assisi (1181-1226)
My work area is usually a disaster. I like it that way. It keeps me creative. It helps me think. Computers? I want a paper file; something with texture and the smell of paper; something I can hold in my hand, fold and scribble on. I like a file folder I can tear apart and spread out. I like a large chalkboard that I can brainstorm on and whiteboards that I can see from the doorway and tell what projects and appointments are in the offing. Most of all I like the smell of things.
I love the scent of sawdust and gear grease. I love the smell of a tree as I'm trimming or cutting it down and the scent of the toolbox as I open it for the tools to adjust the chain on the chainsaw or the sparkplug in the mower. Most of all, I love to stand in the middle of my messy woodworking area, surrounded by tools and scraps of this and that and the scent of everything combined; it is my muse, my source for inspiration and creativity. And, of course, I love the scent of good food and the spices to flavor it. I'm Siciliano, why would this surprise.
As far back as we can trace most of the men on my father's side; they came to this country with a carpenter's toolbox, for the most part, though a few were barbers. And, being Sicilian, we have always had a great love of food, both eating, and cooking, and the men in my family can cook. There is nothing more sensual than the smell of a great meal. Given a choice between pasta and meatballs with a glass of red wine, or a night on the town with a woman, hand me a cloth napkin and a fork, if she wants me that bad, she'll wait. If she thinks I'm selfish, she really needs to pull up a chair and dig in.
"Women! What can you say? Who made 'em? God must have been a [freakin'] genius. The hair... They say the hair is everything, you know. Have you ever buried your nose in a mountain of curls... just wanted to go to sleep forever? Or lips... and when they touched yours, were like... that first swallow of wine... after you just crossed the desert."
-- Lt. Col. Frank Slade, "Scent of a Woman" (1992)
In a great way, I hope she waits. It may sound a tad kinky, but there is something about the scent of a woman, especially her hair after it's just been shampooed. A trained nose can usually detect the faint scent of soap as a woman passes, especially if she walks through her perfume mist instead of splashing it on like some novice dude wearing High Karate aftershave as though it wouldn't empty a crowded elevator in Macy's like someone just set off tear gas during an army training exercise.
No, there is much to be said for the subtle scent of a woman. And, for the woman, the subtle scent of a man.
“A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul.”
-- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, German poet, novelist, statesman
I think Goethe almost had it. I think everyone should make a little music, write a little poetry, and create a fine picture every day of their life, even if it's just for them. Although, how selfish would that be?
But all of this is art. Whether you take pride in your painting, yardwork, woodwork, engine work, cooking, or yourself, it is all a form of art, and all of it has a scent. For most of us that realize this, it is the scent of love. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but the blind must see with the heart. As for men and women, we are like a hearty meal, and it is up to us what ingredients we use. We can opt for spicy or bland, sweet or bitter, fragrant or subtle, with an explosion of flavor or just a slight kiss. Does it really matter what the meal looks like? Close your eyes and just enjoy the fragrance. You might wake up in a mountain of curls, and realize what God has truly implanted in your soul.
Editor's Note
(disclaimer cum "get out of jail free" card)
It is my fervent hope that we keep open and active minds when reading opinions and then engaging in peaceful constructive discussion and debate in an arena of mutual respect concerning the opinions put forth. After over twenty years as a military intelligence analyst, planner, and briefer, I have come to believe engaging each other in this manner and in this arena is the way we will learn tolerance and respect for differing beliefs, cultures, and viewpoints.
We all fall from grace, some more often than others; it is part of being human. God's test for us is what we do afterward, and what we learn from the experience.
Frank Anthony Villari (aka, Pastor Tony)
Pastor Tony is the founder of the Congregation for Religious Tolerance and author/editor of the Congregation's official blog site, "The Path."