Time and Beauty
These plain metal buckets, made in the early 20th century, originally had none of the appeal of color, surface, and wear that they have acquired over years of use and which lends them such character and charm.
Sounds like human life, doesn't it? And it brings Saturn to mind, once again. All the tarnish, lines, blemishes, and breakdowns of the passage of time add another kind of grace and beauty to my eye. I think there is a fair exchange. It's hard to imagine, but I've always thought that a certain acceptance of mortality comes in the late Saturn years.
The human face, in particular, fascinates me as time etches the personality on the surface, and replaces the false images the young labor to project. The character creates a visable map, the emotions are no longer hidden, and the real self emerges, as Saturn works his wonders on the human form, both good and bad. The knee might be creaky, but the skin of some old ladies is glowing and magnificent with pink and aquamarine jewels dangling from their ears, rhinestones encircling the muti-faceted necks. I've grown to trust Saturn, by natal placement, by transit, by horrifying square to Mars, and by instinct as I approach old age. Time removes the sting of each pain, adds breadth of experience, and brings knowledge of life and death.
A beautiful old bucket I'll be, I'm certain of it.