I love pearls. They are probably my favorite gemstone.  I wear them often.  Most of mine are freshwater and some are fake, but I do have a few authentic, expensive saltwater specimens.  You may notice that my blogger avatar is a cubist (?) interpretation of Johannes Vermeer’s Girl With Pearl Earring.  An admirer once told me that I had a resemblance to that girl in the face.  One of the most romantic compliments a man has ever paid me.

      The mystique of pearls–to me–is that they are formed, created, in a defense mechanism.  And that they are made by such primitive animals (like honey–such exquisite candy from the stomach of an insect).

        Beauty from Pain.

  (update: I’d like to add a caveat to the above–I was referring to the creation of pearls, and, perhaps, to my personal…interests.  Otherwise, in general, I do not believe that suffering is ennobling, spiritually refining, or beneficial to the human character.  I’ll leave that horseshit sermon to the State and the Church.) 

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.