Every artist makes himself born. It is very much harder than the other time, and longer. Your mother did not bring anything into the world to play piano. That you must bring into the world yourself.
Harsanyi speaking to his student, Thea Kronborg.
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Nothing is far
Nothing is far and nothing is near, if one desires. The world is little, people are little, human life is little. There is only one big thing – desire. And before it, when it is big, all is little. It brought Columbus across the sea in a little boat, und so weiter.
Wunsch, Thea Kronberg’s music teacher in “Song of the Lark”.
In her heart, was it, or under her cheek?
Thea was surprised that she did not feel a deeper sense of loss at leaving her old life behind her. It seemed, on the contrary, as she looked out at the yellow desert speeding by, that she had left very little. Everything that was essential seemed to be right there in the car with her. She lacked nothing. She even felt more compact and confident than usual. She was all there, and something else was there, too – in her heart, was it, or under her cheek? Anyhow, it was about her somewhere, that warm sureness, that sturdy little companion with whom she shared a secret.
When Doctor Archie came in from the smoker, she was sitting still, looking intently out of the window and smiling, her lips a little parted, her hair in a blaze of sunshine. The doctor thought she was the prettiest thing he had ever seen, and very funny, with her telescope and big handbag. She made him feel jolly, and a little mournful, too. He knew that the splendid things of life are few, after all, and so very easy to miss.
Friends of Childhood Chapter XVIII “Song of the Lark” by Willa Cather
Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
It is only with the heart that one can see rightly. What is essential is invisible to the eye
Adjustments
It never ceases to amaze me how my body adjusts itself to time change, after traveling from East to West. Seven hours difference between Finland and Connecticut is quite a bunch of time. At nine o’clock at night, I realized it was really four in the morning, and at two, three, and four in the morning, in Connecticut, I found myself with wakeful eyes, as my mind and body were still in mid-morning mode back in Helsinki.
One of the activities that brings balance back into daily life, after travel, is exercise. This morning, a stroll helped me to realize that I really was back home. On my way, without my third eye hanging around my neck, I observed one of the places which normally catches my eyes on this routine journey, and that is the wetlands, hidden in the woods alongside the road. I was amazed at the light and reflections glistening on the water. The colors were dark, saturated and vibrant, and I thought, “what beauty there is in the world.” On my way back home, I was reminded once more of the wonders of nature, when on the other side of the road, I heard a rustling in the brush. With a closer look, I saw a wild turkey, and a group of small fuzzy babes following close behind. Upon moving in on the mother and her brood, there was, suddenly, an abrupt swooping sound of the flapping of wings from the opposite side. A huge turkey emerged out of the wetlands, and crossed overhead. The loud noise expressed by this clumsy and heavy pre-historic like creature, told me I should retreat from my benevolent pursuit. So, I was on my way.
Little by little, and thankfully so, my nights get longer, and the fatigue wears off. This has enabled me to get back on track, and at least think about being more productive. With living in general, we learn that adjustments, both physical and emotional, happen over the course of time. They say that the “T” word heals everything, even jet lag.
A New Day!
Upon awakening this morning, early, falling out of bed I tried to get my feet back on the ground. It was still dark, when a quick flash from outside flickered before my eyes. Lightening! Then followed the thunder. The gods are awake. Thor is calling in the morning. Then the sound of rain could be heard on the pavement. Thankfully, it was a new day!
Google, “House of Cards”
Google images, ‘house of cards’, and you will get endless pictures of Kevin Spacey, not to be confused with Sissy Spacek. Google Wikipedia ‘house of cards’, and you will find that the term goes back to the 1600’s, and an interesting explanation of how to build a solid house of cards, and how they collapse, as well.
Google ‘house of cards, Tolstoy’, and you will find that the creator of the Netflix series, “House of Cards”, Andrew Davies, will be producing a new series (for Netflix), based on Tolstoy’s “War and Peace”.
Read Part Eight, Chapter IX of Tolstoy’s “Anna Karenina, A Novel in Eight Parts”, and up comes a reference to a ‘house of cards’, in the stream of consciousness of the character, Levin, as he ponders the idea that human thought and reasoning, are as fragile, as a collapsing ‘house of cards’. Here it goes:
Following the given definitions of vague words such as spirit, will, freedom, substance, deliberately falling into the verbal trap set for him by philosophers or by himself, he seemed to begin to understand something. But he had only to forget the artificial train of thought and refer back from life itself to what had satisfied him while he thought along a given line – and suddenly the whole artificial edifice would collapse like a house of cards, and it would be clear that the edifice had been made of the same words rearranged, independent of something more important in life than reason.
Is it no wonder that the script for “House of Cards” is smattered with references to Tolstoy? How about it, Mr. Davies? Tolstoy was a master, and perhaps Davies’ favorite author.
This inquiry goes to show, that our sources of information on the Internet, leave much to be desired, and though “House of Cards”, enthralled me, for a time, until after the perky little journalist was thrown under the train. (so many scenes in Tolstoy’s writing take place at the train station, including the tragic end of Anna), I soon became bored with the endless gimmicks used to keep the audience’s attention, and stopped watching it.
We must question to what extent our spirit, will, freedom, substance, are being invaded, and controlled by the limited availability, and information offered on the Internet. Should this be of concern? I think so and only confirms that there is no substitute for literature and art, to probe the senses. I wonder what Tolstoy would have to say?
We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric,
but of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry.
~ W. B. Yeats
Happy fences, make happy neighbors
A most interesting fence. I like the lattice like pattern that keeps it all together. Unpainted, and peeling, it is environmentally friendly. It is a happy fence, for happy people.
From the Breastplate of St. Patrick….
May you be blessed
With the strength of heaven–
The light of the sun and the radiance of the moon
The splendor of fire–
The speed of lightning–
The swiftness of wind–
the depth of the sea–
The stability of earth and the firmness of rock.
On Tiffany Creek 