Just before I hatched into this world my parents have told me the story of the daffodil growing in the garden still yet to bloom. But on that joyous day I emerged into this world it was then that brilliant yellow flower chose to open.
The daffodil is a symbol of the coming of spring and the joy it brings to others, a perfect representation of all I aspire to be. It also goes by Narcissus, a character of myth so impossibly beautiful that they could not bare to look away from their own reflection. An allegory of the consequences of self-indulgence…
But what is life if not to indulge in it? To make oneself feel better in it? Critics would cry selfishness is wrong, that valuing yourself is valuing others less. And yet for all the joy a flower brings, it does not do so for either you or me, but for itself.
And so when I look at my reflection, and choose not to look away because how impossibly perfect I am, know that I know what I am…
And that is joy.
---------------------------- Ah for my thirtieth birthday I wanted to get something of a special commission of my birdy.
Glori means a lot to me but I think it's funny to look at something I pour a lot of things that are me, things that are my opposites, things I wish I was, and things I also fear would be the results of such lofty hubris.
Ultimately this pretty birdy is both reflection and refraction, but most importantly someone that brings me a lot of joy.
catling
