“I love this woman in a way I can’t describe & a feeling of belonging to each other that reaches across all the pain. It’s as though we’ve answered something in each other that was almost forgotten. I look back on that whole ten years in California & I see myself hunting desperately for something I wasn’t finding. I know the Work point of view is the only true one. That life is inside. That nothing outside can ever finally answer our yearning. I know that’s true but, in some way, finding Jessie has reached something inside me. A part of me feels brand new — re-awakened.
I know even this will change. There’ll be moments of deep regret maybe. But life is a gamble. I felt the weight of that the first time I left home for good. I walked out of that house into the unknown & it scared the shit out of me but the adventure of hitting life straight on was a thrill I’ll never forget. I feel that now — along with the fear. But I see the fear stems from being alone in the world & it has a new meaning for me now. You can be alone in the midst of people or you can be alone & join with the other one’s aloneness. There can be a real meeting between two people at the point where they always felt marooned. Right at the edge. And that’s how it is with me & her.” Sam Shepard.
2020.07.25 at 19:37
2020.05.25 at 07:37
2020.07.26 at 12:37
I realize that the past has not disappeared , it is precisely etched in eternity. I feel it more and more, as if it was god himself who was moved by our memories, as if they were engraved in his depth like the most precious thing. The past is the only thing we can know. Every second of the present is already in the past. You don’t know the present, you can only be attentive, but everything that is happening before your eyes has already happened. The future simply does not exist. It is only this eternal tale, the past that demands your attention. It makes me remember Dante saying :
«Noi veggiam, come quei c’ha mala luce, le cose», disse, «che ne son lontano; cotanto ancor ne splende il sommo duce. 102 Quando s’appressano o son, tutto è vano nostro intelletto; e s’altri non ci apporta, nulla sapem di vostro stato umano. 105 Però comprender puoi che tutta morta fia nostra conoscenza da quel punto che del futuro fia chiusa la porta». ////
“We see, like those with faulty vision,
things at a distance, he replied. That much,
for us, the mighty Ruler’s light still shines.
‘When things draw near or happen now,
our minds are useless. Without the words of others
we can know nothing of your human state.
Thus it follows that all our knowledge
will perish at the very moment
the portals of the future close.”
I sat down in my backyard all morning and searched for the Nebula that inspired Van Gogh stars. It was in 1845, William Parsons could for the first time in the Irish sky glimpse and draw the spiral structure of what he thought to be a Nebula .. it became a sensation throughout Europe and inspired Van Gogh’s The Starry Night.
Theatre curtains before Piaf appears en avant premiere to sing je ne regrette rien.
“The house resembles a child’s drawing. A deputizing childishness which grew forth because someone prematurely renounced the charge of being a child. Open the doors, enter! Inside unrest dwells in the ceiling and peace in the walls. Above the bed there hangs an amateur painting representing a ship with seventeen sails, rough sea and a wind which the gilded frame cannot subdue.
It is always so early in here, it is before the crossroads, before the irrevocable choices. I am grateful for this life! And yet I miss the alternatives. All sketches wish to be real.”
Tomas Tranströmer in La place sauvage- Det vilda torget
“There exists for each one of us an oneiric house, a house of dream-memory, that is lost in the shadow of a beyond of the real past.”
Gaston Bachelard – La poétique de l’espace.
Man get lost in the city without limit. Architects enlarged the tunnel until we lost sight of its walls. They support, strengthen, charge the density of the miniaturized world and then they invent windows to run away in slow motion.
“Already more than once I’ve been asked why I think or imagine a utopian country, a utopian world where everything will be good, in which we all will be good. Answering this, if you constantly compare yourself to the horror of this everyday life, can be a paradox, because what we have is nothing. You are rich if you have something that is more than material things. And I don’t believe in this materialism, this consummation society, this capitalism, this monstrosity that is perpetrated here, this enrichment of people who have no right to get rich behind our backs. I truly believe in something, and then I say ′′ a day will come “. And a day will come. Yes, it probably won’t come, because they’ve always destroyed it, it’s been so many millennia that they destroy it. It won’t come and nevertheless I believe it, because if I couldn’t believe it anymore, I couldn’t even write anymore.”
(Rome, October 17, 1973…)
“I tried to rescue myself from this plight by seeking refuge in the spiritual world of the Ancients. Plato I avoided, for I dreaded the perilousness of his imagination. Of them all, I intended to concentrate on Seneca and Cicero. Through the harmony of their clearly defined and orderly ideas I hoped to regain my health. But I was unable to find my way to them. These ideas, I understood them well: I saw their wonderful interplay rise before me like magnificent fountains upon which played golden balls. I could hover around them and watch how they played, one with the other; but they were concerned only with each other, and the most profound, most personal quality of my thinking remained excluded from this magic circle. In their company I was overcome by a terrible sense of loneliness; I felt like someone locked in a garden surrounded by eyeless statues. So once more I escaped into the open.”
Hugo von Hofmannsthal