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
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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