A question – amongst all the questions I ask myself in my so-called older years:
What is worth spending money on?
Do I really want new clothes when I have drawers and drawers of clothes?
Well, yes, of course I do. But how much will more sweaters add to my happiness in my twilight years?
And how about dishes and crystal?
I wrote on my birthday that I wanted a new iPhone. But my old iPhone is still working, and I hear that the new ones have so many more features that you have to carry a spare battery pack.
(So I bought new makeup instead.)
But what is really worth my money?
What will give me joy?
Every now and then – for seven years now – I look at the New York Times Photography Store. There’s a photo there that I contemplate. I love contemplating. I love this photo.
This photo can be purchased in several sizes, framed or unframed. I can buy an 11″ by 14″ unframed for $169.00. I have been thinking about buying it for seven years.
It’s the price of three – maybe four – sweaters. I think I may have enough sweaters.
Perhaps that’s long enough to think about it. Perhaps this photo would bring me joy every day.
It’s time, I think, to own this photo. After all, I made Einstein a peripheral character in my novel. And seven years ago, this photo even inspired poetry. I am always a bit apprehensive to share poetry on this blog. I know my blog readers come to me for a smile. And poetry is so serious.
But anyway, here it is:
There is no theory here
Except the theory of the oar
Who has a notion of teasing the current
There is no science here
Except the science of the boat
Who is motionless and yet is moving
There is an equation
In fragments on the surface of the water
That explains the ratio of sunlight to sunburn
At the nape of the neck
Sometimes the occasion for celebration
Is the absence of mathematics.