One must really be brave to choose love or writing as one’s guides, because they may lead one to the space in which the meaning of our life is hidden — and who can say that this space may not be the land of death.
Choosing to enter…
Choosing not to…
A strange somewhat dark quote. The link to Capetanakis shows his birth year as 1922 while Wikipedia says 1912. Latter sounds more likely, but…
At any rate, I will look up his poetry. Even if he died at age 32 not, not 22 — How sad…
This crap shoot we are all enrolled with, this long line of dead men and women…
Definitely 1912, he was 32 when he died of leukemia.
I think you’ll find this book particularly interesting if you investigate; the relevant section is an appreciation of him by Edith Sitwell, whose protegé he was. (I was enchanted by some of her poetry, like Facade, when I was very young.) She has a lot to say about him, especially about a poem he wrote called “Emily Dickinson.” The poem, and Sitwell’s commentary, you may find repulsive, but perhaps repulsively fascinating.
It is a dark quote. I have no idea where I came across it, long ago, but found it haunting then and still do.
love the photo…and the door in the shot!
Thank you. Your blog is fascinating, and your photos are quite wonderful.
I like the words beneath the picture, which is great. Life is a risky business. None of us will get out of it alive 🙂
To coin a phrase? 😉
I may have had to argue with Demetrios – the meaning of life may not be hidden at all. There may be no meaning other than what we give it. And that idea, too, may be all wrong. I think one is risking a lot NOT to make love or writing one’s guides. They are two things that give life meaning…
Bring it on, Pauline!
(Although I think what I respond to is the idea of RISK involved in both of them, which is real, or better be….)
I think the picture of this door captures the spirit of the quote wonderfully. There can be such lightness and brightness once we step through the doorway; but we may have to navigate some pretty heavy darkness in the process, too. It’s all yin-yang, all the middle way…
Photo is yin and yang, for sure.
I think of the middle way, though, as kind of opposite, an overlapping, maybe; never moving too far toward either of the extremes. Yin and yang together make a whole, but always remain separate, unblended.
I’m searching for something, but the thought is eluding me. Maybe it’s too late, and I ate too much for dinner!