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…
Risky business.
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…
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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.
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love the photo…and the door in the shot!
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Thank you. Your blog is fascinating, and your photos are quite wonderful.
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I like the words beneath the picture, which is great. Life is a risky business. None of us will get out of it alive 🙂
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To coin a phrase? 😉
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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…
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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….)
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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…
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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!
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