So Alberto is about to give us a heavy glancing blow—great beginning to a hurricane season that doesn't start until next Friday! I leave for Wyoming tomorrow, just as the heavy rains begin to hit our area—we'll see how that goes. This will be the last post until I return—I hope with images that are not just stereotypical ones of the Tetons and Yellowstone.
"Why become sophisticated
when you can be simple and original? . . .
Be glad with just a cup of tea,
a bird's song,
a small book of poems,
and your anonymity."
Somehow when I saw this, the first thing that sprang to my mind was the four horsemen of the apocalypse. Funny what watching pols in (in)action may affect other parts of one's thinking . . .
Rain, rain, rain, last week and this. Next week I'm going to the Grand Tetons and Yellowstone; perhaps the anticipation of that, along with the sometimes nearly all day rains, helps explain why I recently haven't found much here to photograph. So, my posts may taper off for a while, til I get back probably.
"This is an age of academic mandarins
who manufacture secret vocabularies
so they can keep their verses to themselves
and away from ordinary people
who could never understand the erudition
of their obtuse allusions, or the quirky twists
of their self-indulgent minds.
Ah, Po-Chu-i,how they would laugh at you,
My Friend, standing threre in your kitchen
testing your poem on your illiterate cook to see
if it is plain enough so that she and people like her
will be able to comprehend what you have to say.
And when she says she doesn't know what you
are talking about, you go back to your study
to make it plainer, more easily accessible--
pure, clean, simple: so anyone can understand."
Teklanika River, Denali Park, Alaska: when I look a this, I see sadness: this is a river which has proven to be deadly for many people. It looks so harmless, but when the rains come, it swells and becomes dangerous and impassible. Imagine then standing on one side or the other and not being able to get to the other side.
And looking at that tree, I think about what John O'Donohue wrote:
"Become subtle enough
To hear a tree breathe."
Well, looks like we're about to enter the rainy season (possible storm down in the Gulf already!). I expect there will be some clouds images on here soon . . .
Two weeks from now, I expect to be in Wyoming. This poem from John O'Donohue seems appropriate:
"Alive to the thrill
Of the wild.
Meet the dawn
On a mountain.
Wash your face
In the morning dew.
Feel the favor of the earth."
Thomas Merton: "Zen is consciousness unstructured by particular form or particular system . . .But it can shine through this or that system, religious or irreligious, just as light can shine through glass that is blue, or green, or red, or yellow. If Zen has any preference it is for glass that is plain, has no color, and is 'just glass." Translation (mine): see what is without any preconceptions of what it is or should be . . . Just see, just hear, just touch, taste, smell, be present . . .
Reflections and Shadows
Teju Cole: "More than the work itself, its form, its genre, its existence in tangible form, what interests me is the secret channel that connects the work to other work. Tarkovsky calls it 'poetry,' this link that allows different kinds of excellence to understand one another , , ,
Nothing that remains solely within its genre succeeds as poetry. When I make a work, no matter how small, no matter how doomed to forgotten, only its poetic possibility interests me, those moments in which it escapes into some new being. If everything else succeeds but the poetry fails, then everything has failed. Poetry is precisely that which can be translated in higher (or perhaps I mean inarticulable) realms. When one encounters these diverse forms of poetry, there is a certainty that they are mystically related to one another: everything is there, everything . . ."