The joyful pursuit of imperfection
The teapot in the charity shop window
Spout stained, broken and repaired
I bought it for three pounds fifty,
Placed it where my eye lands
looking up from my unfinished writing
© Bhi 2023
Lovely! I do think old stuff that’s just a bit damaged is very pleasing and also often a bargain.
The search for perfection is in itself sometimes flawed. For example, a perfect piece Georgian furniture tell us nothing, whereas a stained and scratched piece is a novel waiting to be written.
G, My house is filled with damaged items – myself included! But you’re so right; perfection is a distant dream, but everything around us, the little flaws, that is exactly where the stories are hidden.
ps. I haven’t got around to your Dog story yet – the warning put me off (Now if you hadn’t done that I would have read it by now!) and will gather up my courage to peek past the covers.
Despite imperfections, every object can tell a story and have sentimental value.
This particular teapot suffered further at my hands while I was washing it; the handle snapped and is now held together with superglue! Imperfection piled upon imperfection, but it stands there proud.
oh wow wabi-sabi and an interesting wiki page for what it means, I was an ignoramus on this matter too, or should I say ‘foreign terminology’ but I am glad I found it because of this poem. I am never interested in the history objects acquired from the handling of other humans or various circumstances, I would however pay a lot for a cup in any auction that was found intact, a cheap one, where a hurricane uprooted trees and put my pencils in it oh I think I have a poem now. I will add a link to this… Read more »
The pursuit of imperfection is a joyful passion.
I have a daily task now to find a new and exotic word. The next one is Karoshi – another Japanese word which literally means “death from burnout.” Only the Japanese (and the Germans) could have a word for this.
Glad this piqued your interest and look forward to your poem.
The problem with this piece is it’s pretty much perfect.
But, CW, I wrote it sitting on a rickety chair and drinking from a chipped wine glass.
Perfect. And it shows how much you can convey with few words as you have. Its touched people, who all do similar things, but your words have brought it to life, cheers nice, I’m glancing around now looking for my own broken treasures and suddenly without your poem they’re all there. Wabi sabi. Cheers.
There are treasures everywhere the eye lands.
I love rummaging around second hand shops, and am an inveterate buyer! I’m off to fix my dodgy oven door; was wrestling to open it after I’d put a bake inside.