Monday, October 24, 2011

Mellow Yellow Monday

Fresh flowers would be my first choice.  
But these porcelain blooms have been here
 for a long time—and haven't faded yet.
On the other hand, the gravestone 
itself could 
use a good scrub. My family won't have to 
worry about these details—I plan to donate what's 
left of me, so they can use what they need and let some 
med students learn from the rest.  How about you?

[See more Mellow Yellow here.] 


  1. very mellow yellow Alexa!
    & yes me too.

  2. This photo has me fascinated. I believe I missed that one in my peregrinations.

    Obviously someone still remembers. If not, I am afraid that the porcelain would be as grungy as the stone. Do they use a soft-bristled artist’s brush with a soapy liquid? A toothbrush seems like it would be too coarse and harsh.

    In a Physiological Psychology class I held a human brain in my hands. Without being pickled in formaldehyde a brain will collapse of its own weight. I was supposed to be looking for and identifying stuff like the infundibulum, cerebellum, and whatnot, but I was too into holding a human brain in my hands. It occurred to me that all the brains in the plastic bucket came from people who had donated their bodies to science. “Bodies” as in no longer alive; dead. I was struck with how brief our lives are. All were as alive once as I was then, but they no longer—just one of many inert brains in a bucket full. Smokers? Heavy drinkers? Fulfilled lives? Shallow lives cut short less than half lived? Even those loved and loving were reduced to what I now held. Some of the deceased former possessors of those brains may have been in their 30s or 40s at the time death blew out their flames of life with his own cold and lifeless breath. Flames to ashes blown and scattered in the raging winds of inexorable passing. I didn’t want to pass too soon. An easy thought that, not just for a teenager.

    To paraphrase Masaccio’s Holy Trinity inscription, if that brain could have spoken it would have said: “What you are I once was. What I am, you will become.”

  3. Wow, TG -- those are some profound thoughts, even for a midnight dreary. While you were inspired to ponder being and nothingness as you held that brain in your hands, I believe most teenagers would have been thinking, "Whoa, dude! This is way cool." (or something equally deep)
    I'm in no hurry either—I'm hoping I share the genes of my grandmother (who lived to 94) and mother (soon to be 92, with all marbles present and accounted for).

  4. love the look of the weathered grey and the yellow.....and that's what we all should do isn't it?....although i haven't made any final arrangements, not yet!

  5. They can stay for a very long time..

    Visiting from MYM! Hope you can visit me too if you have not done yet:)

  6. I’m glad to hear that your mother is still doing well, Alexa. May you thrive as long or longer.

    Actually, “Whoa! This is way cool,” was my first thought. No accounting for what tumbled after.

    I was listening to this today and thought it would make good background music for this post. Just pop it on, open a separate window, and boogie on elsewhere, if you are so pleased.


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