I often find in music some transition, an inflection, which points to something, something infinitely gentle or suffering, enough to stop me in my tracks. Like the first seconds where the piano enters in Brahms’s Piano Concerto #1, after that tumultuous opening.
Or in the Electric Light Orchestra (ELO) song “Ticket to the Moon“, right in the middle of this line:
I’ve got a ticket to the moon, but I’d rather see the sun rise – in your eyes.
My painting odyssey continues as I search for similar inflections in my paintings – it feels like I am “following a narrow ledge around a mountain…sailing on a skeletal eerie craft over the buoyant ocean” (Robert Bly).
In East Coker, T.S Eliot writes:
...Dawn points, and another day Prepares for heat and silence. Out at sea the dawn wind Wrinkles and slides. I am here Or there, or elsewhere. In my beginning. ... What was to be the value of the long looked forward to, Long hoped for calm, the autumnal serenity And the wisdom of age? Had they deceived us, Or deceived themselves, the quiet voiced elders, Bequeathing us merely a receipt for deceit? ... The only wisdom we can hope to acquire Is the wisdom of humility: humility is endless.
Food for thought there…
Thanks for visiting. Many thanks to all who left supporting comments on my recent posts!