Friday, February 26, 2010
Which path would you like to take this weekend?
Which path is calling you? Where do you imagine it leads? Take a walk along it mindfully. What do you see? What sounds do you hear? Can you feel the warmth of the sun? Where does it take you?
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Saturday, February 20, 2010
There are no perfect endings....
"I wanted a perfect ending...
Now, I've learned the hard way that some poems
don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear
beginning, middle and end. Life is about not knowing,
having to change, taking the moment and
making the best of it,
without knowing what's going to happen next.
Delicious ambiguity."
Gilda Radner, 1946-1989
Now, I've learned the hard way that some poems
don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear
beginning, middle and end. Life is about not knowing,
having to change, taking the moment and
making the best of it,
without knowing what's going to happen next.
Delicious ambiguity."
Gilda Radner, 1946-1989
Friday, February 19, 2010
I was much too far out...and not waving but drowning.
Not Waving but Drowning
A poem by Stevie Smith
Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.
Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he's dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.
And now he's dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.
Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
More about John William Waterhouse
Taking a break from cloud 9 and becoming a first time grandma to present a little more on one of my most favorite artists, John William Waterhouse (1849-1917) an English Pre-Raphaelite painter most notable for his paintings of female characters from Greek and Arthurian mythology. Being one of the latest in the Pre-Raphaelite movement, he was also influenced by the later French Impressionists. He was born in Rome to British painters William and Isabella Waterhouse and it is because of his Roman birth that many of his paintings were set in ancient Rome or based upon stories from Roman mythology. Some of Waterhouse's most famous paintings were his three versions of The Lady of Shalott, a study of Elaine of Astolat who dies from grief when Sir Lancelot will not love her. Based on the famous poem by the same name written by Alfred Lord Tennyson it tells the tale of the beautiful Lady Elaine who was forced to spend her days and nights weaving in a tower the scenes she saw reflected daily in the mirror for she was never to look down at the town or suffer the curse of which she knew not the effect. But when Sir Lancelot came riding through the street below Lady Elaine defys the curse and looks to admire the handsome knight, later dying as she floated in a boat down to Camelot. From The Lady of Shalott by Tennyson:
There she weaves by night and day
A magic web with colours gay.
She has heard a whisper say,
A curse is on her if she stay
To look down to Camelot.
She knows not what the curse may be,
And so she weaveth steadily,
And little other care hath she,
The Lady of Shalott.
And moving through a mirror clear
That hangs before her all the year,
Shadows of the world appear.
There she sees the highway near
Winding down to Camelot;
Another of his favorite subjects was Shakespeare's Ophelia from Hamlet. Above are a few of my favorite paintings by Waterhouse.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Mirage by Christina Rossetti
Mirage
The hope I dreamed of was a dream
Was but a dream; and now I wake
Exceeding comfortless, and worn, and old,
For a dream's sake.
I hang my harp upon a tree,
A weeping willow in a lake;
I hang my silenced harp there, wrung and snapt
For a dream's sake.
Lie still, lie still, my breaking heart;
My silent heart, lie still and break:
Life, and the world, and mine own self, are changed
For a dream's sake.
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