“Works of art are of an infinite solitude, and no means of approach is so useless as criticism. Only love can touch and hold them and be fair to them.”—Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters To A Young Poet
“Everything is gestation and then birthing.”—Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters To A Young Poet
“From my heart comes out and dances the image of my own desire. The gleaming image flits on. I try to clasp it firmly, it eludes me and leads me astray. I seek what I cannot get, I get what I do not seek.”—Rabindranath Tagore, The Gardener
Monday, 12:20 PM, Costco, Okotoks, Alberta.
Outside temperature, minus twenty-five degrees Celcius. For those familiar with the Fahrenheit scale that’s about 12 degrees… Kelvin.
Slowly regaining equilibrium from the weekend. Granted—of a pineal sort—but equilibrium all the same. Done is the junior hockey game and a couple too many beers with the Son and Heir. (I had the beers, he’s only seven.) Done are the outdoor hockey and family skate at the community rink beneath the blackened sky and festal strings of lights, the bonfire at centre ice, the free pizza, hot dogs, and hot chocolate. Done are the movies: Date Night Saturday for a laugh; Harry Potter And The Goblet Of Fire Sunday for Sonny-Boy.
All done now. It’s back to work.
How to follow up a pair of posts that modestly sought to encompass the entire grand sweep of humankind’s works of art and hence the comprehensive record of our inner sense of life?—the vast arcing trajectory of a culture, from inchoate birth and early development up to instant or instants of rich and utterly balanced fulfillment, then downward again from that unified peak into over-elaboration and nullity—that’s the task at hand.
Posts like that can be a little sapping. From wild euphoria you swing down to a drained utter catatonic stupor, leaving you with nothing. Best to go for a skate, watch a movie, pick up a book—any book—and read a few pages.
That’s when the quoting comes in handy too. Like carrying a little quiet corner of the Omphalos Cafe around with you. When it’s too cold to head out that is.
Helps return you to the hub—where everything of importance springs.
Including blog posts.