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"[...]a vessel cleaving the dungeon of the waves[...]"
You're Love in the Time of Cholera!
by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Like Odysseus in a work of Homer, you demonstrate undying loyalty by
sleeping with as many people as you possibly can. But in your heart you never give
consent! This creates a strange quandary of what love really means to you. On the
one hand, you've loved the same person your whole life, but on the other, your actions
barely speak to this fact. Whatever you do, stick to bottled water. The other stuff
could get you killed.
Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.
Never miss a word
You're Infinite Jest!
by David Foster Wallace
While you1 consider yourself2 to be clever,
there are those3 who think you're just full of yourself or, perhaps worse,
playing a joke4 on everyone around you, and yet you are pretty sure that
you really are that brilliant after all, since people would hardly take the time to
get to know you5 if they didn't care very deeply about what you had to
say to them, to wit, about their lives, their hopes, their dreams, their fears, their
drug habits, and of course what videos6 they prefer to watch, since,
after all, your impressive vocabulary and tendency to go on and on7 makes
you seem superior, able to educate them, and really drive a sense of something
ineffable into their measly little skulls while you are not above making a cheap
gag or really going after anyone or anything or telling them about incredible
futures involving tennis, geopolitics, and
1Meaning you personally, not someone like you or your own
personal daddy, for example.
2As well as you can see yourself, which, frankly, may not be that well.
3Though we wouldn't deign to be so peripatetic as to name them here, mind.
4Jokes, though not common in Victorian England, were known to originate
sometime in ancient history, perhaps as early as the time of Babylon, or even before.
It is thought that the history of the joke plays an integral role in the mindset of
the characters depicted here, though you may disagree at this point, in which case I
am facing quite the dilemma in relaying this narrative, no?
5It is rather time consuming, after all.
6Ha!
7and on and on and on...
Take the Book Quiz II
at the Blue Pyramid.
You're The Metamorphosis!
by Franz Kafka
Though you think you're in the midst of a dream, the fact of the
matter is that your life has become a nightmare. The nightmare at first seems
horrific to you, but you are slowly able to adjust to the facts of the matter
and settle down and make do with what you've been given. There are those that
would say you're pointless and absurd, but you're really just trying to
demonstrate that people can (and do) adapt to anything, no matter how absurd
it is. Not that this will really inspire them to change, because they probably
don't understand.
Take the Book Quiz II
at the Blue Pyramid.
About Me
- Σφιγξ
- possesses wholly unmerited academic pretensions; examines love as an entomologist; collects haunted dollshouses; notes the lunar phase as regularly as the temperature; peruses field guides; reads like a serial magazine subscriptionist; functions through coffee and "mood" music; draws to the very corners of the page; takes notes on unlined paper; reads poetry as prayer; observes textual authority with the incredulity of fiction; suppresses the smart-ass answer(s); adapts as well as anyone beseiged by her own bibelots; she is a sensation seeker in spite of all of this.
19 comments:
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/09/20/magazine/20jung-t.html?_r=2
Yes, a creative routine. I am interested in the return to this during a Scorpio moon transit.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dD5VlE_flpU
The Etch-a-Sketch assumed a new significance for me, and not that I want to erase the constructs of 2013.
I consider myself blessed to have lost the things that came before. Much love to you. http://books.google.com/books?id=0FiIB9vI2cMC&pg=PT90&lpg=PT90&focus=viewport&vq=blessed&dq=Anne+Carson+If+Not,+Winter&output=html_text
http://books.google.com/books?id=Hu_I580M4eIC&pg=PA84&dq=Several+rooms+that+Balzac+describes+are+similar+to+the+ones+he+himself+was+decorating+at+the+time.&hl=en&sa=X&ei=eIUcU9DNIImNrAHIg4DICQ&ved=0CCkQ6AEwAA#v=onepage&q=Several%20rooms%20that%20Balzac%20describes%20are%20similar%20to%20the%20ones%20he%20himself%20was%20decorating%20at%20the%20time.&f=false
I tried hold back, but briny viscera, particularly when it is gilded and arranged in a floral motif, has been guilty pleasure. I used to have one I used as a jewelry dish.
http://www.pinterest.com/jannellpower/oyster-plates/#
While the chimney cap was being fabricated, the flue has been open. Today, I was alerted to a juvenile mourning dove in the fireplace by the cat, which I caught, and let go.
As my prayer become more attentive and inward
I had less and less to say.
I finally became completely silent.
I started to listen
– which is even further removed from speaking.
I first thought that praying entailed speaking.
I then learnt that praying is hearing,
not merely being silent.
This is how it is.
To pray does not mean to listen to oneself speaking,
Prayer involves becoming silent,
And being silent,
And waiting until God is heard.
–Søren Kierkegaard, quoted by Joachim Berendt in "The Third Ear," translated by Tim Nevill (Shaftsbury, England: Element Books, 1988).
http://www.thisiscolossal.com/2015/01/worlds-within-our-worlds-macro-photos-of-everyday-objects/
http://www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/can-siberian-tiger-make-comeback-180953973/?no-ist
Sunday, I was reading about Zolushka waiting for coffee. That afternoon, my niece faceplanted in her impractical UGG boots walking down a steep sidewalk, and then cried uncontrollably for her mother, who she has not seen for a month. Outside of Sunday, I have little contact with any of the parties, so it was upsetting to be at a loss. We were walking home, and a woman stopped us offering us this, since her daughter had outgrown it, and she was doing some cleaning. I am glad it made her happy; she turns five on February 17th.
http://cheapsweetdollstored.blogspot.com/2013/06/walt-disney-cinderella-enchanted.html
Sunday evening, I was contemplating Julian Bell's latest, since the artist's use of color was the earliest interest I can remember. I was reading this:
http://www.nytimes.com/2015/01/25/books/review/van-gogh-by-julian-bell.html?_r=0
For years, as a small child, I had my hair cut by a Russian stylist, and while the feeling was not sexual, I felt very connected to her, as a relative, or friend in another life. Any how, I often remember reading a coffee table book about Van Gogh; rather, staring at the pictures; this morning, I saw her again, and we made eye contact in passing.
A future exploration, after Giotto's La Cappella degli Scrovegni (1305):
http://www.bbc.com/news/uk-england-hampshire-28668894
http://www.economist.com/news/obituary/21571846-andr%C3%A9-cassagnes-inventor-died-january-16th-aged-86-andr%C3%A9-cassagnes
Exercise 36 goes here.
One of my earliest memories is of being engrossed in an Etch-a-Sketch, and trying to form circles, and then settling on infinite rooms.
In addition to piles of Lapham's Quarterly I bought on impulse, and have not read, my archives unloosed this, which I bought for the red and sea foam green cover, as much as for bringing the texts to life. I notice a giraffe grounded on the rotting flower, Rafflesia, which I could not have named, then. See cover:
http://www.artbook.com/1880353202.html
Play is serious work, and until being among children again, one easily forgets.
http://janehammondartist.com/work/painting/the-john-ashbery-collaboration/
...still loving ourselves into an illustrative and textual convergence.
http://www.loc.gov/rr/scitech/mysteries/flower.html
I am developing the idea from "A Carnival Evening" (1886) that they are now in their room, where one is seated on the bed, with shadows from an unseen window (the negative space in moonlit sea foam) of coraline branches.
http://www.charmenapoli.it/style/corallo-lavorazione-loro-rosso-che-sboccia-dal-mare/
http://www.philamuseum.org/collections/permanent/59593.html
https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B3DfyJRIT4jydkRyVFBBYXJ6YUE/view?usp=sharing
"The Bridge" by James Merrill
Leaves burn green
Over the stupid little wooden bridge.
Almost the same swan
Feeds at the pond's edge.
The sun is high. The shadow of my head
Floating blank in its flame-dusty halo
Lets me so down through it to a bed
Or mire inert and pale
That all at once this outlook, cross-plank, rung
And worn handrail,
Is wrong, is wrong
To seem unchanged—have / been faithful
To what I came here with
Less than one love ago?
Hush. At my feet a diabolic wraith
Remains obscurely so.
Not quite out of the blue A asks B, for when it must end between them, to help them to behave nicely. Her whole face beams—as if he could ever not be nice! Weeks pass. He tries a new tack: "Don't burn our bridge. Whole families, feelings, habits, etc., still use it every day." But C has all along been using B, so there is only the usual way out. At the park gates A pauses. Inside are thickets, mazes. mirrors charred & croaking, which he will never again visit after dark alone.
The sun is low. A golden fleece
Drowns the toy water.
Boys call their boats in. It is more and less
Than they had set out after.
And at the zenith of the bridge somebody
Else is enduring
With shut eyes, like a god,
That bounced-from-below uppouring
Of rapid pulses, ripple, flash,
Whose drunken script
Scrawls on the scene, on the seer's very flesh,
A message undecipherable except
For its tone of buoyant impatience
With anything downcast —
Long sad truths let fall misshapen
By one and all, to skitter in the dust.
All but that one. His shadow melting, flowing
Upwards into the green and azure blue, fire-pale.
At the stake, but smiling unharmed, he is not going
To die, no, no. He has put wind into sail
Designed never to bear his weight and mass;
And now, having seen this last of many float
To a white standstill on the burning-glass,
Will not recoil, feeling the deck grow hot.
1962-66, from The Yellow Pages (1974)
http://www.astrostudio.org/xhip.php?hip=40167
https://books.google.com/books?id=d4ghAwAAQBAJ&lpg=PA34&dq=Cancer%20Leo%20Beehive%20Cluster&pg=PA34#v=onepage&q=Cancer%20Leo%20Beehive%20Cluster&f=false
http://www.parisinfo.com/decouvrir-paris/guides-thematiques/paris-patrimoine-en-or/paris-incontournable/paris-la-seine-ses-ponts-et-passerelles
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