Favourites
“In the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures. For in the dew of little things, does the heart find its morning and is refreshed.”
― Khalil Gibran"Your breath touched my soul and
I saw beyond all limits."— Rumi"I had a feeling that Pandora's box contained the mysteries of woman's sensuality, so different from a man's and for which man's language was so inadequate. The language of sex had yet to be invented. The language of the senses was yet to be explored."
― Anaïs Nin, Delta of Venus"I closed my mouth and spoke to you in a hundred different ways" ~ Rumi
- if(typeof(networkedblogs)=="undefined"){networkedblogs = {};networkedblogs.blogId=1231996;networkedblogs.shortName="poet-in-jena";}
Art-i-can, art-i-san
… couldn’t resist taking a photo of these old paint pots!
inspired by the music of John Dowland.
the Land of Beauty
Image
May 13, 2013
Tagged Arcadia, art, beauty, life, literature, Oscar Wilde, passion, renaissance
Leave a comment
The music of John Dowland and the art of Isaac Oliver
“Reviving the muse”
INK for ‘art’
― Charles Bukowski,
“If you’re going to try, go all the way. Otherwise, don’t even start. This could mean losing girlfriends, wives, relatives and maybe even your mind. It could mean not eating for three or four days. It could mean freezing on a park bench. It could mean jail. It could mean derision. It could mean mockery–isolation. Isolation is the gift. All the others are a test of your endurance, of how much you really want to do it. And, you’ll do it, despite rejection and the worst odds. And it will be better than anything else you can imagine. If you’re going to try, go all the way. There is no other feeling like that. You will be alone with the gods, and the nights will flame with fire. You will ride life straight to perfect laughter. It’s the only good fight there is.”
Picture – Graziano Origa (2008) wikimedia commons
a verse:
The ‘Art’ of endurance
Don’t show me mercy and feed my self-pity.
Kick me in the ass when it’s all said and done.
Give me the gods with their perfect laughter
and a frozen park bench to fantasize about.
There’s a fight on.
And you and I,
We will first lay down our arms
when we have nothing left to share.
Not even the truth.
without any further ado…
: photo taken by me
Guest warm-up
I’ve been wanting to speak about ‘art’ for weeks now, but I know now that it’s impossible for me to do that without enlisting the help of those countless others gone before me. Whatever we may categorize a blog as, with mine I have mostly tried to concentrate on my love of verse in all its wondrous shapes and guises. But for tonight, as needs must, I hand the stage over to filmmaker Jim by way of breaking the ice:
p.S. I know I was never good at just sticking to one theme, so
you’d better call me an ‘art-flirt’ right now, so we can get this thing over with -
(all credits for this picture citation go to: leotardo.wordpress)
and, just a little bit more…
So face them he would and with no mean degree of magnanimity. This formidable army of lost souls which still clung to his reputation for protection.
Nor was that the end to his troubles, which he kept more silent and still than the hand he held of his last dying relative as its warmth began to fade.
It had been a disquieting summer, and his aunt had been less than discreet about the goings on in the neighbourhood. Not that there were many with whom to share the news. Lanes which had once been filled with the sound of impatient horns had become mute, neglected as the emphasis of life shifted into other spaces, other spheres, taking people away from all that they once knew.
poetjena
