Among the weird things my parents used to say was “all that glitters is not gold.” There’s a lot of befuddlement in that phrase. First the structure of the sentence is weird (if you’re 5 and new to the language). And glitter? Any five year old KNOWS that glitter is cool stuff you put on paper and sometimes it is gold, sometimes it’s red, silver or blue (which makes no sense, either).
I think there is more or less raven in all of us — some of us have a lot of raven and want all kinds of glittery gold stuff in our nest. Old 45 has a pronounced raven streak (not to dis ravens, I love ravens — they’re intelligent, humorous, loyal and create good communities; they can even learn to talk and I think they make up their own sentences). I have very little raven in me. I don’t get the point of glittery things but glitter itself?
It’s fun to paint with. Especially snow. Snow with glitter is more like snow than snow without glitter. Why? Because snow is glittery… The picture above is an experiment. Night over snow on sand dunes. Yeah, it’s a thing that happens here. I didn’t know what it was going to be when I started. It was phase one in a mail art project some friends and I did this fall/winter.
So what if “all that glitters is not gold”? What’s wrong with glitter in and of itself? Just one of the deep existential questions that plague me all the time.