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There is no beautifier of complexion,
or form, or behavior,
like the wish to scatter joy
and not pain around us.

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

I’m sure I’ll get lots more emails letting me know I’m batty and seeing things that aren’t there, again, but I really think this spider’s butt is smiling at me.

And it cheers me no end to think that when some bottlefly gets caught in this guy’s web, the last thing he sees will be an enormous Atari-esque grin descending on him.

To further cement my reputation as mentally unstable, I’ll let you know the first thing I thought of when I saw this picture onscreen:

this photo via Google Images

Have a great weekend! Scatter joy like seed! May spiders smile upon you.

The uniqueness of a person
is made up of the insane and the twisted
as much as it is
of the rational and normal.

-Thomas Moore

I guess that goes double for spiders.

I find many of them pretty, I find their web-weaving inspirational.

I see their hunting- so deft and lightning quick, deliberate- as fascinating. Nature and her terrible beauty.

Boy, even I think this guy is ugly. Not “so ugly it’s cute”. Just plain yucky.

The spiny abdomen is kind of neat, I guess, but ugh, look at his big ol’ wet eyes.

Blech.

The influences of little things are as real,

and as constantly about us,

as the air we breathe or the light by which we see.

These are the small- the often invisible-

the almost unthought of strands,

which are inweaving and twisting by millions,

to bind us to character-

to good or evil here, and to heaven or hell thereafter.

-Tyron Edwards

I love webs.

I love that they are both gossamer and strong. I love that in the right light they are intricate and beautiful, and in the off light they become invisible but no less present. Waiting.

I love how in the morning dew they become strands of pearl.

Love nothing but that which comes to you woven in the pattern of your destiny. For what could more aptly fit your needs?

-Marcus Aurelius

I love how, almost every morning, my husband will walk right into an enormous web and flail around, wiping away unseen silk, defending himself against invisible assailants. A little joke shared by me and my mischievous eight-legged friends.

I love the infinite nuances of metaphor. The ties that bind us together. To pull at one strand is to move us all. Becoming ensnared in webs of our own making.

Symmetry. Circles.

I love knowing that spiders are not taught to weave, but rather produce these delicate works of wonder entirely by instinct.

They are driven to create, to bring into being these things of beauty and practicality.

What acts of beauty lie untapped within you?