Saturday, March 24, 2012

Robert Grudin: An image of change

I've read a number of attempts to describe the way change happens or at least the way we perceive it, and I think Robert Grudin's is one of the best.


"In late November of 1968, I spent a few days in a hotel just off the Piazza San Marco in Venice. At 6 one morning, hearing the loud warning bells, I jumped out of bed, grabbed my camera and rushed out to see the famous Venetian flood. I stood in the empty and as yet dry Piazza and looked out toward he Gulf, for I expected the flood tides to come in from the open water. Many minutes passed before I turned to see that the Piazza was flooding, not directly from the Gulf, but up through its own sewers. The indented gratings in the pavement had all but disappeared under calm, flat silver puddles, which grew slowly and silently until their peripheries touched and the Piazza had become a lake. That morning I experienced vividly, if almost subliminally , the reality of change itself: how it fools our sentinels and undermines our defenses, how careful we are to look for it in the wrong places, how it does not reveal itself until it is beyond redress, how vainly we search for it around us and find too late that it has occurred within us."

-- Robert Grudin --
from Time and the Art of Living

My experience has always been that the changes I talk about are always the ones that have already occurred. Perhaps others are more perceptive than I am. Unfortunately I've never met them.

No comments:

Post a Comment