Never was a cloudy day

At the start of the year I decided to keep a diary. I challenged myself to write something, anything, for every day of the year.
Read the rest of this entry »At the start of the year I decided to keep a diary. I challenged myself to write something, anything, for every day of the year.
Read the rest of this entry »So much distance is meant by it:
just as with the backdrop of a scene
the world is meant; and as through that scene
the hero strides, cloaked in his action’s mantle: —so the darkness of this doorway strides acting
onto the tragic theater of its depths,
as boundlessly and seething as God the Father
and just as He transforming wondrouslyinto a Son, who is distributed here
among many small, almost unspeaking roles,
all taken from misery’s repertoire.For it’s only (this we know) from
the blind, the cast-out, and the mad
that, like a great actor, the Saviour emerges.
Excerpt from The Portal, Rainer Maria Rilke, trans. Edward Snow
Presumably all obsessions are extreme metaphors waiting to be born. That whole private mythology, in which I believe totally, is a collaboration between one’s conscious mind and those obsessions that, one by one, present themselves as stepping-stones.
“Let’s go wait out in the fields with the ones we love.” – Heavenfaced, The National
“Civilisation still seems to be an unfinished task.” – Robert Walser
“It is necessary to be embarrassed a 1000 times to produce a good work. Get used to being embarrassed.” – John Berger