"There is change, and departure: but there is also help when least looked for from the strangers of the day, and hiding, out among the accidents of this drifting Humility, never quite to be extinguished, a few small chances for mercy."
Monday, 28 January 2013
Thursday, 24 January 2013
Wednesday, 23 January 2013
Friday, 4 January 2013
Monday, 31 December 2012
Monday, 24 December 2012
Thursday, 20 December 2012
Wednesday, 19 December 2012
Sunday, 2 December 2012
Sunday, 18 November 2012
Sunday, 11 November 2012
Wednesday, 7 November 2012
Eliane Radigue
A Portrait of Eliane Radigue (2009) from Maxime Guitton on Vimeo.
Eliane Radigue has been the soundtrack to my recent mental stewing, and any calm I've maintained throughout is calm she's drawn out of me and reflected back. Go to 01:10 to have your heart won by this genius (if you haven't the time to watch the whole fascinating thing).
Wednesday, 24 October 2012
Sunday, 21 October 2012
More on Father Henry
A few more words about Father Henry.
"'Cold' was to him merely a word; and if he stopped up the door, or livened up the lamp, it was for my sake he did it. He had nothing to do with 'those things' and this struggle was not his struggle: he was somewhere else, living another life, fighting with other weapons.
He was right and I was wrong in those moments when I rebelled against his existence and insisted rashly that he 'could not live like this.' I was stupid not to see, then, that he truly had no need of anything. He lived, he sustained himself, by prayer.Had he been dependent only upon human strength he would have lived in despair, been driven mad. But he called upon other forces, and they preserved him. Incredible as it will seem to the incredulous, when the blizzard was too intense to be borne, he prayed, and the wind dropped. When, one day, he was about to die of hunger- he and the single Eskimo who accompanied him- he prayed; and that night there were two seal in their net. It was childish of me to attempt to win him back to reality: he could not live with reality.
I the 'scientist', was non-existent beside this peasant mystic. He towered over me. My resources were as nothing compared to his, which were inexhaustible, his mystical vestment was shelter enough against hunger, against cold, against every assault of the physical world from which he lived apart. Once again I had been taught that the spirit was immune and irresistible, and matter corruptible and weak. There is something more than cannon in war, and something more than grub and shelter in the existence of this conqueror of the Arctic.
If, seeing what I have seen, a man still refused to believe this, he would do better to stay at home, for he had proved himself no traveller."
-Gontran De Poncins in Kabloona.
"'Cold' was to him merely a word; and if he stopped up the door, or livened up the lamp, it was for my sake he did it. He had nothing to do with 'those things' and this struggle was not his struggle: he was somewhere else, living another life, fighting with other weapons.
He was right and I was wrong in those moments when I rebelled against his existence and insisted rashly that he 'could not live like this.' I was stupid not to see, then, that he truly had no need of anything. He lived, he sustained himself, by prayer.Had he been dependent only upon human strength he would have lived in despair, been driven mad. But he called upon other forces, and they preserved him. Incredible as it will seem to the incredulous, when the blizzard was too intense to be borne, he prayed, and the wind dropped. When, one day, he was about to die of hunger- he and the single Eskimo who accompanied him- he prayed; and that night there were two seal in their net. It was childish of me to attempt to win him back to reality: he could not live with reality.
I the 'scientist', was non-existent beside this peasant mystic. He towered over me. My resources were as nothing compared to his, which were inexhaustible, his mystical vestment was shelter enough against hunger, against cold, against every assault of the physical world from which he lived apart. Once again I had been taught that the spirit was immune and irresistible, and matter corruptible and weak. There is something more than cannon in war, and something more than grub and shelter in the existence of this conqueror of the Arctic.
If, seeing what I have seen, a man still refused to believe this, he would do better to stay at home, for he had proved himself no traveller."
-Gontran De Poncins in Kabloona.
Monday, 15 October 2012
Friday, 12 October 2012
Wednesday, 10 October 2012
Dos Gatos: A Challenge
I challenge anyone to listen to this through headphones without moving any part of your anatomy in time with it.
(...you may find it easy at first, but wait until 1:56)
(...you may find it easy at first, but wait until 1:56)
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