 A lady poet and a friend of mine opened a series of her verses quoting Nicholas Cage. I do not recall the words verbatim, but the awful meaning was unmistakable and clear: Life is awful; we love all the wrong people; our hearts get broken; then we die. I trust, foolishly perhaps, for myself and for my fellows in a better turn of luck. Our day is dire. Right people love right people wrongly. If your heart be broke, do not presume to die – repair another broken heart imperfectly, because you both are human. In due time, depart this life with Grace. We are right people, you and I, but bunglers in the craftsmanship of love. Dreamily we look for bliss into a distant sky, though our lacks need tending here and not above. We are right people, you and I.   Comment:
Do today's problems come more from loving the wrong people or right people wrongly ? In my advertisement redesign, I could not misspell a word. But in the work-a-day . . .  . . . errors are the Rule of our road. I deplore my -- and others' -- missteps, our slipshod haste and corner-cutting self-accommodation. Some follies I have ventured need forgetting . . . . There are failures that ignite the brain with comprehension. Those dead-endings become roadside lanterns shining very piecemeal upon the path ahead. Such errors have a value that deserves reporting to save a later worker needless wanderings and time. A century ago, aircraft seemed the miracle of their time, yet were full of aeronautical mistakes. Thus -- we fly today frequently and safely and at speed. Schoolboy mathematics can be a perfection, if the schoolboy knows the answers. Beyond the lecture hall and classroom, we build short-falls upon a fundament and ground plan of successive short-falls. This is never easy going. So, give yourself, and give to me, a liberty to celebrate each time we gain a pace or two ahead.    Feeling as EMOTION Live beings emote because they will to live. That is, they own a drive to outward action whose always purpose is to repair a deficit: when we are hungry we seek food, in peril -- safety. Along the path of labor on his pictures, an Artist learns the burden of emotion. For a work still incomplete is a wish not yet come true -- a short-fall to be mended. . . . and as RECEIVING Speaking of happiness emotes a need to reach a hearer -- perhaps a sharer. Happiness itself, however, enters the accepting heart as a near-celestial blessing and perfection of fulfillment. Emoting nothing, we partake wholly of a most liberal receiving. When art works render depths of grief and dire misadventure, they will not make happy. Yet, if they engage all our attention and whole participation, they afford fulfillment. We are not strong enough to endure for long this all-demanding state of being. The spirit wanders. Our attention must soon divide, and the lacks of our world require care.   |
Johannes
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