One
of the primary advantages of living alone, I assume some of you know from your
own experience, is that there is no one else necessary to consult when it comes
time to decorate the immediate surroundings. I have been doing a bit of
rearranging recently, and what appears in the photograph is among the results.
It suits me just fine. The words below and the song are sort of a continuation
of elements from my August 23 post. The poetic endeavor, composed by our friend
Dante Gabriel Rossetti, is tied in to this post through some of those words of
mine and by a frequent theme which echoes in my thoughts, in my memories and in
concepts held among some of us who do not doubt the possibility of anything.
Before I become any more obscure / obtuse / oblique than I all ready am, I will end this now and allow you to figure out for yourself the circle in which I am walking -- should you
wish to do so .... but, but, but not without leaving one further signpost as spoken by François-Marie Arouet, generally known as Voltaire: "The doctrine of metempsychosis
is, above all, neither absurd nor useless. It is not more surprising to be born
twice than once; everything in nature is resurrection."
That is about as much as you will capture of me for now unless I think there is a chance I will fall in love with you ....
I
sometimes like to repeat myself
(Editor's Note: This is the second time during the six-plus years of "my existence" here upon the sea of blogs that I have
taken a portion of a response I have written to a comment and reprinted
it as part of a later post. The next few paragraphs are part of my response to
a comment made by Smareis for my August 23 post. The reason I do this is
because I think more people might read it this way and it is something I like to clarify
on occasion about my lifestyle and my beliefs. So, here are those few
paragraphs:)
I
learned many years ago that some rivers are not meant to be crossed -- either
literally or figuratively .... hmmmm .... now I am getting poetic.
I sometimes say (and have written in past posts) that I am not certain I ever really, truly, actually have been in love .... I am sort of like the guy in the Foreigner song, "I Want to Know What Love Is." Love is a holy grail of sorts for me. On the other hand, there are two women I have felt so deeply about that I married them, and three others I would have been willing to marry had circumstances been different. I am not so sure that love is more than an illusion.
I guess I agree with Martin Luther in terms of his words which you quoted. Coming at it from a slightly different approach, I do have an instinctual sense that the love I search for is ancient, and was something found and then lost in the mist of time. Perhaps, it has more to do with faith and belief than with anything else; perhaps, it is a genetic memory; perhaps ....
"Sudden Light"
by Dante Gabriel Rossetti -- 1853/54:
I have been here before,
But when or how I cannot tell:
I know the grass beyond the door,
The sweet keen smell,
The sighing sound, the lights around the shore.
How long ago I may not know:
But just when at that swallow's soar
Your neck turned so,
Some veil did fall -- I knew it all of yore.
I sometimes say (and have written in past posts) that I am not certain I ever really, truly, actually have been in love .... I am sort of like the guy in the Foreigner song, "I Want to Know What Love Is." Love is a holy grail of sorts for me. On the other hand, there are two women I have felt so deeply about that I married them, and three others I would have been willing to marry had circumstances been different. I am not so sure that love is more than an illusion.
I guess I agree with Martin Luther in terms of his words which you quoted. Coming at it from a slightly different approach, I do have an instinctual sense that the love I search for is ancient, and was something found and then lost in the mist of time. Perhaps, it has more to do with faith and belief than with anything else; perhaps, it is a genetic memory; perhaps ....
"Sudden Light"
by Dante Gabriel Rossetti -- 1853/54:
I have been here before,
But when or how I cannot tell:
I know the grass beyond the door,
The sweet keen smell,
The sighing sound, the lights around the shore.
How long ago I may not know:
But just when at that swallow's soar
Your neck turned so,
Some veil did fall -- I knew it all of yore.
Has this been thus before?
And shall not thus time's eddying flight
Still with our lives our love restore
In death's despite,
And day and night yield one delight once more?
And shall not thus time's eddying flight
Still with our lives our love restore
In death's despite,
And day and night yield one delight once more?
Odds & ends at the
moment
I went into a saloon (my slang for ninety-nine percent of the bars I enter) a few days ago and
ordered a Manhattan. The bartender asked me what was in it. It was a quiet day,
so I went behind the bar and mixed it myself .... no one blinked .... uffff .... amateur hour .... need you ask why I call most bars saloons?
I was a bartender for a summer while in college. The bar belonged to my girlfriend's mother .... sweet
deal and no application to fill out .... it was a "working man's bar" and I was the only "college boy" in there .... probably ever. But, a chameleon even then, I fit in quickly. I always
have been lucky with dice, whether it is shooting craps or horse for drinks ....
the bar usually doubled its profits the nights I worked and I made a nice bit
of money on the side ....
Blue and blonde and beautiful Sandra Marie, incidentally, was the girlfriend and one of the three who might have been if she would have had just a bit of patience. C'est la vie ....
Blue and blonde and beautiful Sandra Marie, incidentally, was the girlfriend and one of the three who might have been if she would have had just a bit of patience. C'est la vie ....
Finally .... Lou Gramm, the guy singing in the Foreigner
video, is in town this week .... maybe, I can make a run to his performance.
14 comments:
Many, many times I've known EXACTLY what will happen next. Deja vu is the term I think.
Some have suggested that it's something to do with the brain seeing what one is looking at slightly before one's eyes work it out. I do not know, but I do know it can be a tad disconcerting sometimes.
The Foreigner song has always been one of my favourites ever since I first heard it on the radio, many moons ago now. And the video you chose was really great. So, this time Fram, you've just reminded me of a superb song and not introduced it to me for the first time.
I am not certain if you are referring to the poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti, Philip, or to the entire concoction of words in the post. But, no matter. Just for the fun of it, I am going to add another element to the mix. The poem by Dante had two versions of the final verse. The verse I included with this post was the second and later version. The original ending was this:
Then, now,-- perchance again! ....
O round mine eyes your tresses shake!
Shall we not lie as we have lain
Thus for Love's sake,
And sleep, and wake, yet never break the chain?
I can appreciate how and why you came up with the thought you did. Others read déjà vu into Dante's poem, too, but I am not seeing it as that and I was not thinking about or referring to déjà vu in what I wrote. I guess the once-upon-a-time English student in me is inclined to read between the lines as well as to read the actual lines, and to do that in context of an author's personality, philosophy, religion, lifestyle and other characteristics, as well. I prefer to know an author as deeply as possible so I can better understand what he or she has written and, maybe, better understand life itself.
There was a piece in the Saint Paul Pioneer Press on Sunday by a woman columnist who is just discovering the works of Sylvia Plath. It occurred to me that, like the columnist, I never have read anything by Plath, who is sort of a feminist heroine and who committed suicide in 1963 at age thirty. Plath is just the sort of novelist and poet whose head I would like to get inside of, so I ordered one of her books and a biography as a start. This is what I mean when I say better understand what an author writes by better understanding the author.
Anyway, I am curious to see if anyone else comments here, so I will stop for now without further remarks about what I was alluding to in the post.
Yes, this song by Foreigner is among my favorites, too. I have used it in at least one earlier post that I recall, and it would not surprise me if I use it again someday when my mood is right for it.
Thank you, Philip. I always appreciate your visits to my page and your comments to my posts. By the way, I keep meaning to mention that I once did a stint as a sports reporter, and it was not unusual for us to get calls from bookies in other cities asking what the local odds were on upcoming games between "our" team and "their" team. Chatting with them was always entertaining.
It was the whole piece, not just the Dante poem, wondrous though it is.
I cannot claim to understand all the poems I've come across in life thus far but quite a few actually stay with me, or part of them usually.
The beautiful drifting solitude is so wonderful in the poem by Wordsworth which, surely, almost everybody knows: "I wandered lonely as a cloud" and then "What is this life if full of care, we have no time to stand and stare" (W.H. Davies, a one-time hobo etc!)
I love to stand and stare sometimes, as with the lovely herd of cows in this video I made some years ago, in the Scottish Borders
http://bit.ly/1JHt0EC
Correct link = http://bit.ly/1NKOaEf
Well Hi there!!Big HELLO !
Iam most fascinated by your photo and...." is that there is no one else necessary to consult when it comes time to decorate the immediate surroundings""
Thats me right now..ohh yes!
I have moved yes..to a BIG apartment up in the sky!
i dont know much about the poetry..But I think ts great!Also great to hear about your past!Pretty name of your girl friend/Blond and blue eyes
Have to go now.Unpack.Eat.Sleep.
See you later Cowboy!:))
xxxx
My preference has always leaned more toward prose than poetry, which, I suppose, stems from the fact I generally am a serious guy about life and living. Although, gauging by the amount of poetry I include among my posts, it is evident poetry does have significant relevance in forming my view of the world. Hmmmm .... analyzing myself again, I guess.
Yes, I agree with you about William Wordsworth's work, Philip, and I have read about his life and have read probably all of his poetry, together with that of his sometime-collaborator, Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Of the two, I prefer Coleridge, possibly because I identify more with him.
I still will say no more -- at least for now -- about the directions and thoughts I was alluding to in the post. Later .... maybe.
Reflecting on Wordsworth's "wandering cloud," I have written about where I hope to be when I die. Without repeating the circumstances in detail right now, I will mention that it is while watching clouds drifting overhead in a blue sky on a sunny day.
I have not watched your video yet, but I will later during my evening.
Thank you, Philip, for visiting my blog once again. I enjoy your company and reading the words you leave here in your comments.
Yes, Anita. Books, guns and often a bottle of Benedictine or brandy or cognac, with furniture of wood. Those elements are almost always to be found in the room where I spend most of my time when I am at home. By the way, I moved the chair and put the table with the three handguns in the display case in its place after I took the photograph. Less chance of bumping into it there. Good decision? You can be my advisor on such matters.
I hope there is an elevator going up to your "big apartment in the sky." Climbing a few flights of stairs carrying groceries gets old very quickly.
There are times when your photographs are visual poetry, Anita. Words are not the only way to compose a poem.
Sandy was first of the three "who might have been" had circumstances been different. Our encounter happened decades ago, and I have no idea where she is today. The young lady in the August 23 post was the third of the three and, obviously, the most recent. That leaves one to mention, the second one -- "she" in the middle -- and, possibly, I will include a thought or two about her in a future post.
I am glad you found time to get away from unpacking, eating and sleeping to visit me at my blog, Anita, and to write a comment for me. Thank you .... and, I hope your new apartment will be a home of happiness and good fortune.
Well Fram.I have to visit you.On the blogs..you are the only one i am familiar with..as to say..do understand things that not is written.
I worship you and will continue with that emotion.
The photo.I have studied it..Came out real big..As could see what you read..the things in the mirror half aside to the right..A good mirror!
I do like your guns..10!
If I was you..i would put them in a glass box..to adimre and to open..hold them..cheerish them..and fix them!
You must not think iam a gun woman.Not at all.But i do understand the satisfaction owing one..holding one..shooting with one..
The apartment is on the fourth floor.I have 166 channels..Super internet 100 mp..someting..Good quiet neighboors..Sun all day and evening..
The colours on the walls are grey and white..
Got 4 bedrooms!!!Wow!!!!
One I shall use as only cloth and makeup room..hahahha--I think!
But there is much to do..washing out the old apartment..saying goodbye to old Singh..and the rest of the rat pack..
Have no energy to take photoes..
A man kissed me the other day.Out of the blue!.Ohh God!Suddenly i remembered the great sensuality!
Wonder why none do write about that!Its a great sense!
Looking forward to your nextpost continuing with exgirlfriends..I like to read about peopl..emotions..life..and you do it soo well..
And take shoots Fram!its really good wath you make!
Well see you then
xxxx
That was quite a comment, Anita, for several reasons. I think I will start a reply at the end and work my way to the beginning.
As for photography, I think this would be a good time for you to be utilizing a camera rather than me. I could take more photographs around my house, as you suggest, but I think it would be preferable for you to take some of your new apartment. If you are on the fourth floor, for instance, you must have an interesting view or two from your windows.
You already are in good physical shape because of all the hiking up and down mountains that you do, I assume, but carrying groceries up four flights will be a chore. As for having four bedrooms, I think you will have no problem filling up the extra space with purses and shoes and dresses and ....
Hmmmm .... I wonder what it would be like to kiss a girl again. Other than on the cheek, I mean. It has been a long while for me. I suppose I could find one to practice with now and then, but that would complicate my life and, in most respects, I am trying to simplify it right now. It is tempting to sell everything I own and "hit the road" and see where I end up. I am not sure if that would be simplifying my life or, in some ironic way, complicating it.
As for past girlfriends, my thoughts about them usually arise when a birthday or some other anniversary of sorts comes around, as it did when I mentioned the third "could have been" in my August 23 post. Walking into a "saloon" and going behind the bar to mix a drink stirred my memories of my first "could have been." When I think of them -- or of many things from the past -- it is almost the same as reading a biography and looking into the life of another person. My life is in chapers -- incarnations, as I label them -- and my experiences are history to be reviewed and studied.
I seem to remember you mentioning that you have fired guns in the past, but I do not recall the details. It might have been with your father or with your husband, but I distinctly remember you mentioning having done it.
Norway is very different from the United States, and I cannot imagine living anyplace where I would not possess at least a handgun or two .... or three or sixty or ....
Part of owning guns is firing them for me. I associate guns with the outdoors, and think shooting at an indoor range is ridiculous. I need to have a private place in the country to truly enjoy shooting. I am not like a duelist standing still and aiming at a target a few yards away; I prefer to be on a combat course and shooting while I am on the move and the targets are on the move. I like to have fun with a gun .... for instance, run and dive and see how many shots I can get off before I hit the ground.
I have three cabinets for long guns -- one in the living room, one in the dining room, one in my bedroom -- and handguns in various small racks or cases, such as you see in the photograph, scattered about the house. I only keep two loaded: One under the pillow next to me and the other by my computer table. And, as you suggested, I do enjoy admiring them, holding them, cherishing them and, sometimes, modifying them.
.... this turned out so long,
that I have to break it into into two parts ....
.... this is the remainder
of my comment, Anita ....
The books visible in the photograph are among those I have regarding the settlement of the American West -- mostly history, personal accounts and novels. Those reflected in the mirror are newer novels. You always have had "talented eyes" for picking up images/reflections in mirrors and windows.
As for you and I, Anita, I can only speculate why there continues to be steady, written communication between us through our blogs after six and one-half years and why others from back then are gone today. Thinking in terms of women (whoops, I mean young ladies), there are a few others from five or maybe even six years ago who still stop by on occasion, but who are not active with their own blog and who seldom (if ever) leave a comment for me or who even come by here regularly.
Anyway, it will be interesting to see where we are, where we go, what we do during the next few years. Life changes and so do we as we move along through it, I think .... at least this is true for some of us who choose to explore the world, rather than pick a spot to perch and watch the years leave us behind and disappear.
Thank you, Anita, for this visit and for your kind words.
Oi Fram!
Desculpa pela demora, não estava acessando meu blog por isso não vi suas atualizações.
Uma bela estante... Bastante recheadas de livros e revolver. Belas coleções! Pelo que vejo você é mesmo colecionador de revolver. Gostei mesmo foi desse monte de livros, adoro ler.
Morar sozinho tem suas vantagens Fram, por que não tem pessoas pra ficar te enchendo a paciência o tempo todo. Sou mais da solidão do que um monte de pessoas comigo. Às vezes gosto de ficar sozinha.
Gostei da resposta ao meu comentário, achei bacana você explanar através da sua postagem. Eu também acho que muitos rios não são destinados a atravessa-los. Creio que se tentarmos morreu afogado.
"Aqueles que se amam e são separados podem viver sua dor, mas isso não é desespero: eles sabem que o amor ainda existe."
Sabe Fram, todo o ser humano ama, mesmo achando que não ama.
Gostei muito da postagem, e da sua história do tempo da faculdade. Como você foi barman deve ter aprendido a preparar muitos drinks especiais risos. Hum, camaleão eu acho que o ser humano é um pouco camaleão.
A música I wanna know what love is é excelente, gosto muito, já foi tema de novela aqui no Brasil algum tempo atrás.
Deixo sorrisos!
You have a talent for disappearing abruptly and completely, Smareis. I am beginning to get used to it, but it does create a bit of worry since in the past you posted regularly and routinely.
Yes .... books and guns and coins and watches. I suppose these things are what I enjoy most in a material sense. I know part of the reason is because these things each have a history of their own. They have been places and have been a part of the lives of many people. It is especially true when you are dealing with older items and, as the cliché implies, you begin to wonder what stories they could tell if they were only able.
The 1888 Colt Lightning revolver I wrote about earlier and which is among the three handguns in the case is an excellent example. How many places and how many individuals have owned it or fired it between the time it arrived in Saint Paul, Minnesota, in 1888 and I found it in New Mexico and brought it back to Saint Paul one hundred twenty-seven years later?
The books, though, are the most special or, in the least, have the potential to be the most special.
I enjoy solitude, too, Smareis, very much, and do not mind living alone. What I miss is going places with another person -- whether it would be out to eat at a restaurant or to a theater to see a film or a concert or a play or to visit a museum. Doing things such as those are best shared with another person, I think.
Since it was a "working man's bar," there were not many calls for complicated or intricate or exotic drinks. Actually, it pretty much was a learn-as-you-go type of experience. It was fun and, as I mentioned, I made a fair amount of money gambling on the side.
I guess I will not say more about love or love songs for now. I think I probably talk about such things too much as it is and, no doubt, will do so even more in the future. But, I will note that I missed seeing Foreigner perform a couple of weeks ago -- however, the band will be back in town in October and I hope to get to a concert then.
Thank you, Smareis. I am glad you found your way back to the sea of blogs and, especially, found your way back to my blog and left a comment for me. The sun shines when you are here.
sorrindo! sorrindo! Então Fram, eu desapareço, mais apareço de repente, e sempre... Você tem razão, no passado eu postava quase que semanalmente, hoje em dia tenho andado bastante ausente, ( a gente cansa de algumas coisas risos). Espero que logo eu venha postar de volta como antes. Acho que em 2016 serei mais presente na minhas postagens.Quem sabe? Vamos ver!
Então, a solidão as vezes é boa, mais é essencial sair um pouco, encontrar pessoas, isso da mais motivação pra seguir a vida...
Aqui a hora já atropelou a madrugada! Os galos cantam felizes risos!!! Bom dia Fram!
Fica bem Fram!
Até mais!
Voltarei!
Yes, I am certain the roosters in your region of Brazil are telling the night owls it is time for them to go to sleep and enter the realm of dreamland. It is difficult to give up the day even after the darkness of night has arrived.
I do know what you mean about needing changes in life, including those involving the sea of blogs. I have almost ended my blog a few times. I have been away from it for several weeks a few times. But, so far I still am here with it and with those I choose to follow and with those who follow me.
In actuality, I know and understand that I am rather isolated at the moment because I wish to be and that I am using the time to reorganize my thoughts and knowledge and memories. I would like to hold hands with someone at a concert and to talk across the table with someone in a restaurant, but, to be honest, I am hesitant to commit myself to anything more than that -- maybe, even to only that. I need to find out where I want to go next in my life before I can hope to find someone to go with me.
This is turning out to be a different sort of day for me .... in the way it is coming to a close. I have a new post ready to publish, but I might wait with it another day or two.
So, yes, night owl. Go to bed, get some sleep, find a happy dream to guide you through the night. All is well for me and in my world and I hope the same is true for you. Good night, Smareis .... sleep well and see you later ....
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