We are not going in circles, we are going upwards. The path is a spiral; we have already climbed many steps.
Govinda. Herman Hesse’s ‘Siddhartha’
Sigur Ros - Valtari Hour
Prooving that music brings people together, even when they’re not together.
Tried painting with oils for the first time today. So much fun!
NOTE: It has since been decided that this painting looks better up-side-down. As such, this photo is now up-side-down.
“Although I conquer all the Earth,
yet for me there is only one city.
In that city there is for me only one house;
and in that house one room only;
and in that room a bed
and one woman sleeps there.
The shining joy and jewel of all my kingdom.”
MY LOVE
From Subha Shitavalio Vallabhadeva
Just Jack at Motion, Bristol. 28/04/12
On the right is Millie. She is a beautiful soul.
‘One never reaches home,’ she said. ‘But where paths that have an affinity for each other intersect, the whole world looks like home, for a time.’
Hermann Hesse, Demian
(via zenhumanism)
On Painters & Poets
The painter saw his affinity
with dusk and dawn-
the cycle
of all- then captured
delicately each stroke of light
upon the world
before he turned
to the poet and asked
with sentimental curiosity
of what the wordsmith saw.
The poet paused and gazed;
took in each blade of grass,
the shifting of each leaf
and answered
that he couldn’t say.
but described instead
of how he’d once
ran his fingers through his lover’s curls
and felt her breath, each word she spoke
upon his cheek
and he told
to the artist in his awe,
of how
he did not understand
the universe in its eternity,
but did know of love
in the same way the swallows
came home from Africa each year.
We lost our vision of the universe in the overwhelming complexity of its details. In looking out upon the world, we forgot that the world is looking out at itself. [For] when the universe plays, it plays at being everything else.
It is simultaneously the purest nonsense and utmost artistry.
Alan Watts
Clementine
We lay on your matress
cold together, even under the covers
and talked of travelling
(oh, sweet wanderlust.)
I huddled in your shoulder
and we thought of each other
how long we’d waited to be here.
I fell into a soft dream when you left
and woke when you returned
through sliding glass doors
with two orange balls in your hand.
So I sat in your embrace
safe and silent
whilst you peeled the dotted skin
from the small fruit then passed
each segment to my lips.
And after, you kissed me,
your lips and your tongue sweet,
and reminded me that
love was not always striking
sudden or exhilarating,
but came in small moments
or small little parcels
that had to be peeled.
Clementine. Clementine.
I still think of you
every time I hold a clementine.
On The Astonishing Imagination.
I think it is far more beautiful for the universe to contain creations of the imagination than it would for the imagined (magic, a Utopian society or God, for example) to actually exist. Physical existence of a fantasy/concept/ideology would not be astonishing, merely ‘reality.’ After all, as John Lennon once said, ‘reality leaves a lot to the imagination.’
The contrast in our world is, or at least I think so, what makes it so beautiful.
The wonderful Joshua Luke Smith, has made this short film in collaboration with cREV Films about the still on-going slavery. Take a look.
