Today I was going to post my Valentine’s blog.
I’ve been thinking about it for several days now, trying to imagine how I could write something to accompany the little felt heart pin cushion I made last week; rosy pink and studded with pearl headed pins.
It was going to be a beautiful blog post, romantic yet embedded with little pearls of wisdom; soft centred, flowery and perfumed; frivolous, pretty and witty, captured by a Vaselined lens. Soft focused, light hearted and helium filled it was going to float away into the hazy landscape of the lovely.
But I can’t write it, and I wish I could.
The shocking truth is, I am a modernist at heart and I’m not seduced by surface decoration and fluffy exteriors. I prefer things stripped to the bone, with the skin peeled back so I can see the essence inside with the clarity and detail of a surgeons, or scientists, magnifying lens. I am always disappointed if I find a squashy soft centre when I was searching for something harder with a little more bite.
You see, my heart, like yours, is not smothered in pink icing, it’s not chocolate coated, lace trimmed, or tied up with a red satin bow. My heart is visceral, corporal, meaty, beaty, brown and slightly bruised.
But as all Modernists know, there is beauty in function and at 72 beats a minute the heart performs the most the beautiful and fundamental of functions.
So no, I do not want your heart, not while you’re still breathing.
But, yes, I still wish you’d give me a chocolate heart, or bake me a soft pink confection……