Tuesday, July 21, 2020
The Sacred Cheese of Life
Look at me being all reflective and shit. This is how life should be, of course, colorful and gay, shelves lined with tempting goodies. The shop was closed, of course, it being Covid Sunday and all. But it was a tempting invitation to the good old past when you could have fun without fear.
We've been boycotting fun for months now, almost half the year, but it seems much longer. It seems a lifetime ago. I would expect soon that even this illusion of good times past will be shattered by protestors and rioters. I mean. . . it does look privileged. It is one of those things that looks pretty good when you have it and pretty bad when you don't. I've walked that razor's edge my whole life. To reference Stephen Crane, I've smelled the sacred cheese of life.
I've been thinking more about my "intellectual libertine" phrase. That must have been influenced by D.H. Lawrence who famously said that modern man lived too high in the mind. What was wanted, he believed, was a blood consciousness of the senses.
So I just Googled "intellectual libertine" and, oh my gosh. . . someone had already invented the term (link). I'm afraid to read any of it. I don't wish to be disappointed.
If we can't live as we once did, however, perhaps we can enhance our spirits. You know, deck them out. Boutique them. My spirit has become dull and could use a little spiffing up. Some crystals and candles and incense and colored bracelets and perhaps even a silk scarf to wear pirate style. I used to dance to Indian music that I bought at the yoga shop where I practiced. Yea, man, I've done it all.
I guess I feel an insouciance this morning. I'm ready for a second Cuppa Joe and one of the glazed cinnamon buns I bought yesterday on my grocery run. I'm going to heat it up and make it as messy as possible. Then I am going to stroll the grounds and get ready to do some exercise. The exercise doesn't interest me as much as that cinnamon bun does, though.
I think I'll get to it now. That's enough of my silliness this morning. The dull gray of the afternoon will soon be upon me.
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ReplyDeleteOh man you and Q. Killing me this morning. It a good way of course.
I'm a total glutton for punishment.
I'm discombobulated tho - I was posting here for years in the morning - years and it was a routine. Recently I switched it up to eves. And now I'm just plain willy nilly -
what rebel I am.
Okay. I have a lot to discuss - sigh - I'm getting a little sick of myself tho.
Oh! There is a big spider web in my shed - and the spider caught a JUNE BUG. It was all twisted up in that beautiful web. I tried to pick it out - cause it was still intact. And I kind of like to put them under a cloche. Dead bugs. I don't kill them for that purpose - no no - just find them and give them a little memorial for a while. So interesting to look at all the little pieces and parts and colors. I do have Dung Beetle from Tanzania. And other things. Under glass.
I always liked Wednesday Addams. The whole Addams household actually.
Anyway.
Fuck do I have the energy? I want to talk about Images, Poetry, Photography, Magic, etc.
I've read some interesting things these last few nights.
Interview with Robert Kelly
Question: The origin of a paper you have written, called Notes on the Poetry of Images, was in seeing Eisenstein films and relating the image in poetry to filmic montage. Do you still see Poetry in these terms?
I'll be back with his answers tonight. I don't have it in me. It's beautiful out. Hot. I'm going swimming.
But now back to U.
"I've been thinking more about my "intellectual libertine" phrase. That must have been influenced by D.H. Lawrence who famously said that modern man lived too high in the mind. What was wanted, he believed, was a blood consciousness of the senses."
Didn't you answer this question correctly a few days ago?
And didn't I point out that you were correct?
It has to be a balance - tilting in one direction too far or the other - is when Cray Cray shows up. Well I shouldn't make generalizations - for a Libra - it is all about balance.
I get out of balance. You and your base have witnessed it here for sure. Sometimes drug induced - but that only enhances the crazy.
A sexual release always helps me get back to the middle - T always knew when I was out whack and he was the best helper.
- well sure meditation is key also. too.
Balance.
Your hand opens and closes, opens and closes. If it were always a fist or always stretched open, you would be paralysed. Your deepest presence is in every small contracting and expanding, the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated as birds' wings.
Rumi
What does my buddy c.c. sign off with besides WTFDIK - oh -- see you on the flip side.
ReplyDeleteHowever, before I leave - I do think - sometimes the rebellion against balance does draw out - the making of things - be it writing - song - painting - that BURST of whatever it is throwing the image against the mind
okies. byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
Sex and madness are tools of the devil.
DeleteI’m facing some more nutty deadlines and the like. This pandemic quarantine in place business is fucking hard work.
ReplyDeleteI’m involved with a project that takes place during Charlie Manson times and have been been exploring the music I used to think was so brilliant that crazy summer of 1969 when I was in performing in a couple of bands right before the storm troopers started shooting the next spring and I dunno – I think I was teched in the head. Was? Is. Am.
Anyway,
What’s his name now? Barabajagal ! Love is Hot!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bOniagjp7fo
Love is Hot
Delete