I live in New England and thus I am currently being snowed upon. Heavily. Relentlessly. Except for the blizzard of 1976, I don’t ever remember ever having this much snow on the ground in Massachusetts. We are up to our ears, and for the shorter ones among us, way over our heads. While I like to complain about the cold, the shoveling, and the inconvenience as much as the next person, I have to admit this snow thrills some part of me.
I suspect the appeal is its lavishness. There is nothing stingy about this winter’s snow. There’s more than enough for everyone, everywhere. How much snow can you use? Yeah? We’ve got it here, and more. And if you are worried we might run out, there’s more falling from the sky tomorrow.
If you grow up around these parts you hear a lot of (restrained) talk about moderation, good taste, all that. Unfashionably enough, I am attracted to the ornate, playful, over-the-top aspects of Rococo art. Abundance, I love ya’. In fact one of my design mantras is “go with it” . . . by which I mean, if the design seems scattered and lacks cohesion, maybe it needs to be more scattered, more random, more, more, more, until it’s about scatteredness, and holds together in that way. Or, if I am thinking oh, the color temperature in this piece seems too hot — often the way to succeed visually is not to moderate it, but rather to push it off the charts with saturated red and orange, add a little black here and there to make it even hotter. GO with it. You can see why I despise the Mies van der Rohe shibboleth, “Less is more.” Because it isn’t.
I was thinking this morning about another aspect of excess — the way people make a fuss over their pets. Yes, I too am guilty of those slobbery greetings and euphoric exclamations, “Sweet puppyman! Favorite furchild! Dogfaced boy!”
I have a friend from Ecuador who married a Yankee and came to raise her family in the inhospitable frozen tundra of New England. She, who anwers her three children’s insistent “Mami! Mami!” with a dulcet “Si mi amor; si mi alma; si mi corazon,” (Yes my love, my soul, my heart) was deeply offended by her bluestocking Yankee mother-in-law who acted reserved and aloof with the grandchildren, but would lavish endearments and kisses on the elderly flatulent poodle. I told my friend, “We don’t call them God’s frozen people for nothing.”
Although I am not in favor of raising indulged and entitled children, I still think
it’s very good for kids to hear, every now and then: “Anything you want.” It can be said within the limits of the ice cream truck’s choices or the selection of sneakers at the discount store, but still it gives a wonderful feeling of abundance, with glee and a flood of affection.
I think of the delighful song from Oliver — “I’d do anything for you dear, anything, for you mean everything to me.”
Readers, what are your experiences with the upsides and the downsides of lavishness? How does it make you feel? I don’t think I’ve discussed this with anyone and I am curious. Abundantly so.
Looking down my front steps. On the other side of the mailboxes is the street, empty of traffic today.
You speak like an excessive personality type Sally, something I openly claim. (My friend Lesli and I have often been accused of having “excess” as a middle name.) This endless snow is just Big Mama Nature doin’ her excessive thang, and who are we to tell her to pull back? I hate when certain people who will not be named here tell me that it wouldn’t be prudent to watch yet another episode of the The Wire even though it’s 4am. That’s what’s fun!! And I love your example of how sometimes the only way to address a design or artistic challenge is to just go for more of what is already way out of line. That strategy works about as well as any I know.
Great post. You channeled my sentiments perfectly.
Bring it on mother nature, bring it on.
But I wouldn’t mind if I could make it to the mailbox tomorrow.
your writing is lavish, the name of your blog and its banner foto are lavish. it’s about abundance, as you say, and connection. love. sometimes i like “less is more.” not when it comes to kindness, caring, attention, or making someone feel loved and accepted. Never, never enough when it comes to those things. thank you for sharing this.
‘Kay, you’ve really got me going here. I’ve been working out how to get on a saffron semifreddo with chai-chocolate sauce. I want to decorate it with tiny squares of the silver foil you see on Indian desserts, and with candied rose petals. Only, after reading this I know I’ll have to add something; perhaps I’ll serve it in Zen tea house raku, or crystal half-globes soft with enough lead to fall and bounce, not shatter, and balanced on the antlers of an albino sambar buck… But it’s not enough. It’s too much without being enough… Oh, yes, yesss… gilding the antlers…
And switching out the big brown taxidermy orbs for eyes of an Arctic blue… Grant Achatz, move over — this is far groovier than candied bacon in a lucite sling.
WOW…that be an abundance of SNOW!!!
I say an abundance of love, time, attention is to be shared. Never can there be excess.
When I moved to Syracuse from Los Angeles with my 7 year old son who had only see the snow on mountain tops, he treated the huge cleared piles of snow like the waves in the pacific ocean, diving in head first. I had to pull him out, laughing, by his kicking boots. Joyful excess!
I am reveling in these comments. Never knew I was an excessive personality, but now that you mention it, yeah, it’s an issue. Elatia, all I can say is, Go With It. And Kate, I know that diving impulse when confronted with a great snow wave, tempting one like a huge swell in the ocean. Don’t think I’ve ever actually done it, but I love imagining your little boy’s ecstatic headfirst plunges.
Here in Colorado, we have a little dry snow but below zero temps all day long….more would be a level in Dante’s hell. (There is a burn to being too cold!)
When I read your post I’d just finished going through the excessive acquistions I have in my studio. More is definitely too much and it feels like I am snowed under with stuff. No melting without a conscious effort and I don’t know where to start. Sometimes more is not abundance, just layers of decay. (Sigh!)
Love your blog btw.
Hey, nothing like a bit of the polymorphose perverse to temper the dour duties of Saturn, god of my advancing age. That’s why I live in Florida. (Yee-haw! Surf’s up!) Seriously, age really sucks when its robbed of fresh daily wonders