T is for Touch

Glorious nectarine sunburst via Flickr. Yes, I am aware
of the, ahem, more luscious connotations of this image.

...and all the rest of our senses, and for the body that brings the world into us. We often think of beauty as something to be seen, but many of our most beautiful experiences come to us through other mediums: the power of a smell, whether a bouquet of freesias or your mother's curry or fresh bread baking or woodsmoke on a winter's night; the tactile sensations of toes on cool flagstones or dipping into fresh water on a day of oppressive heat, a loving body pressed against ours, the pleasing smoothness of an egg fitting into our hands, the fur behind a cat's ear; the taste of mangoes in summer and roast potatoes in winter, or a glass of water when we're thirsty, or the brown-gold warmth of coffee in the morning; the sound of laughter, or rain, or music. These are experiences that are fleeting and beautiful, and which often give us joy on a level so deep as to be almost unconscious. Sometimes we hardly recognize them except as a feeling of bliss or contentment or gladness, way down in our guts or souls, below the level of words.

If this month's posts are 26 inspirations for the Museum of Joy, perhaps this one is not only an inspiration but also the best explanation I can give of the exhibits I would like to fill it with and the way I want it to be built: a house of community, of festivity, of celebration,  and of the senses.

Look, I don't know how to put the quenching of thirst on display, or the taste of a summer tomato still warm from the sun, or the curve of someone's neck. But that's still the plan, really. To find a way to put these things, or the essence of them - distilled into art, or poetry, or song, I guess - into a labyrinth of lovely rooms, and let the people of the earth roam through it. I honestly don't care if it can't be done, because I'm pretty sure that even a loose approximation would be, to put it frankly, pretty fucking awesome.

If you were going to put one of your favorite small, sensual experiences on display for others, how would you go about it? Would you build a shaded garden for your friends to walk barefoot in? Give out fresh-baked cookies? Put together a room full of pillows and sunshine? Paint a picture full of the colors you feel when you smell thunder coming? Beat a drum? Would you try and remake the experience literally for other people to step into, or create an evocative representation instead? Think about it and let me know in the comments!