" . . . maybe the purpose of art, has nothing to do with improvement, with amelioration, with making this heartbreaking world, this savage and dopey nation, a better place.
Maybe art just makes the whole depressing thing more bearable . . . To experience the truth in art reminds us that there is such a thing as truth. Truth lives. It can be found. And there is no encounter more powerful than the encounter between the slashing, momentary blade of truth and a lie-entangled mind."
I like this image for itself, but it also seems appropriate as an image of American (and British) politics right now. One question we face is whether we will be able to find our way out of this dark(ening) wood.
New morning, new week, new season: fresh start!
We've had several good days: cool mornings and evenings with a good breeze. Nice start to our autumn (not that there won't still be some summer days too)
Barry Lopez: "As far back as I can remember . . . I've found the sea seen from shore, in almost any weather, mesmerizing and soothing. Perhaps its primary attraction has been its breadth, like a stage's, or the unbroken line of its meeting with the sky, or its inconstancy. Or the transparency of its colors . . ."
Barry Lopez: "Art's underlying strength is that it does not intend to be literal. It presents a metaphor and leaves the viewer or listener to interpret. It is giving in to art, not trying to divine its meaning, that brings the viewer or listener the deepest measures of satisfaction . . . Art does not aspire to entertain. It aspires to converse."
"When my ancient-Chinese brothers
made their poems people knew
what spring meant; they knew
the verdant and salubrious grace
of summer, the autumnal melancholy
of the cricket and the
chrysanthemum. But now every day
for everyone is just the same,
a time to get and spend. No one cares about
or even notices the clouds . . ."
"this warm September morning.
No wind, no birds' songs . . .
but later today the wind will pick up,
a slight breeze begin.
A pileated woodpecker will call
off in the woods somewhere . . .
But just now, none of that, just now,
silence and stillness,
a quiet, so profound I think
I can hear my own heart beating."
It was an interesting weekend: uncertainty prevailed. But I'm here and the west coast of Florida seems to be out of danger. It's unimaginable what it must be like in the Bahamas; where would you go?! And the east coast here may have some of that experience by the middle of the week. Stay safe, wherever you are.