(With thanks to Bob and Luke).
What is it about the juxtaposition of unearthly music and the scenes of ordinary life on earth? (Bach, in Solaris).
Sun destroys
The interest of what's happening in the shade...
and none
Thought of the others they would never meet
Or how their lives would all contain this hour.
I thought of London spread out in the sun,
Its postal districts packed like squares of wheat.
---Larkin.
There's a certain light in the south, that opens you up, softens the hands, makes them more accepting; relates each face to another, a word or a style of thought to a landscape; it aims to unify a life: the material a reflection of the spiritual; it reminds you of the first man, the earth-dweller, whose life was full of loss and appearances, home-comings, ritual breaking-ups, ceremonies of innocence.
And there is this uncertain northern light as well, straining, harsh, individuating, that suddenly bursts through the deep grey clouds, revealing rare earth, degrees of longing, telling us how estranged we've become from one another. This light of the abstract mind, precise but haphazard. This sea-light, the blue that escapes us, reminds of us other places and other times, of the light years separating us from the beloved.
3 comments:
in which light do you feel most at home?
you know roxana, i think this whole blog is about trying to answer that question-or at least formulate it in a clear way (to myself, if not anyone else). And of course, yours was a trick question because how can one feel at home being homeless?
But I fear this southern light doesn't really exist any more and I'm probably not strong enough for the northern. At this age, and still restless. there's something not quite right about that. (gosh, why is this beginning to sound like a therapy session!). but yes, I guess a bit of mixed bag, a broken circle. black. sun.
please help and make some sense of it all!
perhaps i can't help with answers, but i am perfect at asking the right questions, then :-)
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