The girl in her shell.

                                      Song: That´s some dream from Good Old War.                                                 
                                                   There´s a place in my head
                                              It must be called the super motel
                                                    I can stay the whole night
                                            And think about the girl in her shell

Here I´m, thinking in the super motel that my mind is.
What am I thinking, you may wonder? Well....
When I was little,  I used to believe that if you hold a spiral seashell to your ear, you could hear the sound produced by a tiny girly creature, mimicking the roar of the ocean.
But that rushing sound that one hears is in fact the noise of the surrounding environment, resonating within the cavity of the shell. The ear picks up sounds made by the body, thus meaning the blood flowing and the muscles acting. These noises become obvious because the louder external sounds are filtered out by the seashell.
In this case, fiction, imagination, utterly overcomes reality, don´t you think?
This song also reminds me of Boticelli´s painting The Birth Of Venus, who was born in a shell thanks to the breath exhaled by Eolo.
She appears all ethereal and luminous, so full of life.
The girl in her shell.
If you give credit to neoplatonic philosophers, contemplating her beauty is a way to elevate the human spirit and get a sense of life.
And that´s what I´m thinking about today. About beauty, about desire, about the delicacy of certain things (like Eolo blowing a tiny thread of breath into Venus).
And also about the meaning of life, and life itself.