Forever is there for those who search

The Restauracja U Barssa, where New Year's Eve was spent enjoying an eight-course meal over a span of four and one-half hours, first opened its doors in 1853. As the bell tolled midnight, some few of us enjoyed strawberries in champagne as we watched fireworks exploding in the sky above the square from the second-floor windows. The plaza was crowded with onlookers despite the cold, winter night air.

The Duval, constructed in the 15th Century and a survivor of World War II bombings, once was owned by monks, but now holds a four-room bed and breakfast, along with the Cafe Same Fusy and the Tea Room Same Fusy, and an Italian pizza parlor, Na Prowincji, to the side of it. No, that is not Fram perched on the second floor window. He is yet another story higher, where he can almost touch the sky.

The run is under way

Where are these places? What city? What country, you ask? If you truly are curious, there is no mystery. Search, and it will be evident. Better yet, you, yourself, seek your own destiny and just maybe you will find what you are looking for, although you might have to range thousands of miles from the place you now call home.

Forevermore or Neverland or whatever you wish to call your idyllic refuge does not wait for you. You must slip the harness which binds you, and go to it.

The few who live forever

Somewhere in time

I have fallen from beyond the sky,
And risen from the bottom of the sea;
Where else can I go, what else can I be?

I have given life, I have taken life,
And kept my life when all others have died;
What else is left to do, what else can be tried?

I have known brilliance, I have enjoyed beauty,
And scattered all the Muse with my sullen glance;
Who else might I find, who else is worth the chance?

I have flown upon visions, both in day and night,
And studied long to understand this endless chase;
When will it come to pass, when will I glimpse her face?

--vwsd

Who now follows the call of the Sirens?

John William Waterhouse:
Ulysses (Odysseus) and the Sirens -- 1891

The prodigal returns to Mother Earth

But as he danced, he held the human short-lived soul
clenched tight between his teeth for fear the winds might take it.
When the great dancer had danced his fill, he shrank like fire,
the burning stones calmed down, the world stood still once more,
and as he panted, the brain-sucking man could hear
his blood leap frothing through his flesh from head to toe.
Like the lithe snake who in wide circles twists and coils,
delighting in the world from head to tail, just so
the archer wished to merge in one form head to foot.
He bent and fiercely bit his heel till his lips filled
with warm salt blood, and thus his fearful body drank
communion as he sipped his blood, refreshed, till all
his strength flowed round his body in full, steadfast rings.
Man, woman, god, and beast all merged within his blood,
turned to blood brothers, vanished in swift freedom's wheel:
"I've no more children, comrades, dogs, or gods on earth.
May they speed well and prosper, may winds fill their sails!
Enough! I want their breaths and their sweet swoons no more,
for I'm all ships, all seas, all storms, all foreign strands,
I'm both the brain-begotten god and the anti-god,
I'm the warm womb that gives me birth, the grave that eats me!
The circle is now complete, the snake has bit its tail."
At length Odysseus leapt erect, he cut new roads,
his heart grew light, his white beard gleamed like grapes in the sun,
and his mind shone like mountain summits after rain.
As the full-bodied moon stepped lightly up the sky
and the sun plunged in waters silently to cool,
the freed mind of the great god-slayer stood between them;
he felt he tossed the sun and moon in both his hands
and flung them in the sky like falcons trained so well
they came when he called again, bound with fine golden chains.
The honey of evening slowly dripped on the cool ground,
the heart grew tranquil in calm truce with sovereign Death,
till for the lone man freedom was a saddened power
that crossed her hands and watched all things on earth with tears,
and wore a wreath of cliff-weeds in her russet hair.
He passed beyond pride's arrogance, the drunken rage
of plunder, each man's secret week of sin, until
the savior, saved from his salvation, bent with awe
and kissed his mother, Earth, with sweet humility
and the due homage of a son long prodigal.

The closing lines of Book Sixteen
"The Odyssey -- A Modern Sequel"
By Nikos Kazantzakis

Song of the Earth

What better way to observe, even to celebrate, one's return from the Ethereal to the Earth than through the voices of Sarah Brightman and Andrea Bocelli performing "Canto Della Terra" on a summer evening? There is no better way, I think.

It also seems like a good moment to prepare for the not too distant future with a second piece from Sarah and Andrea. "Time To Say Goodbye," unquestionably, is the best known of their collaborative efforts.

Some (sort of) serious political thoughts ....

The former lieutenant governor of Maryland, Michael Steele, has been elected as the first black chairman of the Republican National Committee. Personally, I think this signals open and professionally conducted warfare by the GOP directed against the very liberal policy directions initiated by President Barack Obama and the Democrat-controlled Congress.

Without going into the pros and cons of the George Bush presidency, I assume most first-time voters in the 2008 election are too young to remember the last two years of the Bill Clinton presidency (or any of the Clinton years, for that matter). May I be the first to tell you: Mr. Clinton was as despised and ridiculed by his most vocal opposition as was Mr. Bush by his. Really. He was. Such is the way of politics, and Mr. Obama is setting himself up for harsh criticism and negative attacks from the outset due to his rather radical plans. His concept of desired change is hardly the same as that of most Americans.

Some years I'm interested in politics; other years I try to avoid any contact with politics. As I've mentioned in the past, I do consider myself to be politically independent and have registered as such in states where I have lived when it is an option. That said, life has many roads to travel, and I periodically decide to take a "sort of sabbatical" from journalism. In one instance, I was a paid staff member for a Democrat candidate to the U.S. House of Representatives, and then for the first year he was in office. But, after making this admission, I would also note this was in a conservative district and this man showed open disdain for the far left element of his own party.

My votes, whether in local, state or national elections, invariably go for the person I consider best equipped to handle the task at hand. This is not the way a political partisan votes. I would hope it is the way most independents vote. It has taken less than two weeks into the presidency of Mr. Obama to have the hair on the back of neck begin to rise. I think I am about to become interested in politics once again, maybe even active once again.

Music Note: Currently listening to Sarah Brightman ....
Specifically, "time to say goodbye" ....
(A serious mood requires serious music)