It has been too long since I've pondered these sorts of thoughts on paper (well, here it is on a screen, but never mind). I've just experienced a wonderful kind of art: a story, but more specifically, a fairy tale. My heart was awakened with the realization of seeing a happy ending. Of course, it was a just a movie, but the need for a chaotic world to again come to order is central to all of humanity. There are fairy tales in every language, in all eras of time. They bear the simplest of truths about us as the human race: we want love, we want to be happy, and we want to know the ending. But if you think about it, really Jane Austen was writing fairy tales too. Her characters are seeking those same things, but without all the magic. Well wait. Of course there's magic in Austen! What else would you call a dance that everyone knows so perfectly, that two people can stare at each other, while dancing, with such a super-natural intensity, that by the time they leave the room, they are madly in love. Sounds like a spell to me. And they encounter all the trials and confusion before they get their happy ending, just like in fairy tales.
My favorite fairy tale is that of Tatsinda. (I won't relay it to you here, but I will encourage you to seek it out and fall in love with it for your self.)
I painted for 4 hours today. It has become more ingrained in my daily activity than ever before. Things I need to do everyday: sleep-paint-sing-read-write-think-speak-breathe. And I suppose eat (if I remember, I never had trouble remembering to eat until recently.)
I wonder what animals think of us? I wonder what they think of our forks and spoons and tv's? I wonder what they think of the sky?
Today was the first day I could hear Autumn singing, albeit from a distance yet. She isn't quite here, but she will be soon in all of her operatic glories, with all of her flamboyant costumes. If only Summer would quite bowing and just let the curtain fall already. . .
I love having chills, it is like an alarm screaming "You're alive!!!"
This morning it rained for the first time in a long time. I love the smell of rain. Breathing in air cleansed by rain is breathing what makes flowers happen, that is magical air. Breathing is growing. Can you imagine the anticipation that plants experience when they see a thunderstorm forming on the horizon? They must all be in a frenzy! That explains why they dance about so much before it rains.
Once I saw the mouth of a spring. I felt I had stumbled upon the 'world navel'. Surely the source of water marks the source of life. Think of the trouble that Genesis goes to to explain the rivers converging in the garden. And as far as archetypes go, water equals life.
Today I finished the first painting in a series of five (for now) that I'm working on. I think these are really going to be important for me, as far as art goes. They are really piecing together a lot of the loves I have-of text and pattern and iconography and antiquity and shiny-ness and symbolism- essentially art and literature, now that I really think about it. Maybe that explains why Im double-majoring in art and english? Hm. I hope they will be readable to more than just me, but then I do love to explain things, now don't I?
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