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Showing posts from May, 2019

The Art of Memory

  The Art of Memory When we can traverse the plains of memory, stopping at each fire to warm ourselves before we start again on our journey, there is a world inside a world that keeps going on to infinity.  If we are lucky enough to hear the eternal melody that is at work in these moments, many fine hours may come upon us.   But sometimes the solace and hospitality are too much and we live with our new found companions, taking them along wherever we go, as a shadow upon our eyes.  The memories of Thoreau, or the early frontier narratives of Indian captivity, are something that I have felt eternal and unchangeable in human nature, not for any piece of information they have given me, but because my melancholy has always found peace in their environment.  For some the world is old or the world is new, but the point is that we tend to look at it through memory.  One memorable event confounds all future celebrations; we remember so as not to forget, but we do not remember that we are able t

A Poet's Journal: March 24th, 2014

March 24th, 2014 We find that when we strive after something the true aim is always masked from us, so that even if we set out to attain it very quickly and it is as quickly attained, there is a part which is ulterior and unexpected.  What we are after then, is only another name for what we shall get, and what we take will always be other than what we were given.  But that our lives must run once over and have to watch in others what we have already experienced, gives to age a discerning eye, while those in youth seem to overstep us, or failing this, are content with being blind.  Age does not want youth to experience what we have, it wants it to learn, and puts down its triumphs and defeats as a means for something to strive upon--and how simple and uniform life would be, but how base and groveling each of us!  We do not believe that pain or emptiness can be a liberation, but when we separate and turn inward, it is so.  A motivation arises that was not in us before, that leads to

A Poet's Journal: March ?, 2014

March ?, 2014 I have never been one to believe dreams hold such a power over an individual that they could change his perception of reality or even the memory of past events.  They are nonetheless fascinating symbols of the mind, but rarely give us enough matter for thought in our waking hours.  However, it was only this morning that I confused a very deep and vivid dream for the real-life memory of one held in common with another. I found myself one pleasant day at a small tower that had been a part of a now ruined castle not far from the city where I was living.  Inside this tower, which had been completely renovated and was now situated in a finely kept park, was the public library of the district.  All of the books were neatly set-up and easily accessible considering the small circular space of the tower; but there was one part which had to be accessed by a ladder put there for that purpose; and once in this crawl space, which was only of a height for someone to lean on hi

A Poet's Journal: February 28th, 2014

February 28th, 2014 There is no greater feeling than the sense of going somewhere, and though the body may scarcely move, it seems as if we penetrate with bold action into an unexplored land--for it is just this newness and unfamiliarity that we search for in the everyday.  But what is it that has changed from the moment before: our humour, our mindset, the way the light of day inclines through the window?  There is much to be learned when the mind is vigorous and all our pursuits as a forthcoming wave to overtake at each break the land it has only newly breached.  For as soon as the waters recede we expect flowers and grass and other signs of imparting life to appear because that which endures and persists in unfulfilled eternity will be renewed and wasted in the overflowing wake of thought.  The whole subsuming principle of life is at our hands the necessary impetus of the incomplete, blinking slowly in a world that has become too fast for calming our arrival on the distant sho