Monday, April 30, 2012
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Joy and Sorrow (The Prophet)
“Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was
oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy
you can contain.
Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was
burned in the potter’s oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit the very wood
that was hollowed with knives?
When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you
shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.
When you are sorrowful, look again in your heart, and you
shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.
Some of you say, ‘Joy is greater than sorrow,’ and other
say, ‘Nay, sorrow is the greater.’
But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at
your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.”
The Prophet; GIBRAN, Kahlil
(And, just for the record, I strongly recommend the Bhagavad Gîtâ, a sacred Hindu scripture, part of the Mahabharata.)
Friday, April 13, 2012
Port Coton and Art's Last Persona
As I was conversing with a friend yesterday with some live acoustic music across the Atlantic Ocean, he sent me a link with this video:
No need to say I fell in love. Not only I adore the language, but the music style and her voice. Zaz has only one released album (10 May, 2010) so far, and the singles are pretty astonishing (my favorite is Port Coton).
I am deeply fond of artists that succeed in putting themselves inside the art they make. It is what keep the art alive, for what we see is nothing but a corpse waiting to be animated with feelings, thoughts and energy. Like us. We show forms that we inhabit and shape with our own self. In the make of art, we pick up the pieces and use our techniques and emotions and wills and intentions as glue. Without that, pieces would be pieces until someone else do what we failed to.
We, without art, are naught but alone and glued to glue, imprisoned by weightlessness.
Art, without us, is naught but chaotic and lost, bound to be forgotten.
Art is thus naught but what we love and need and rely on the most: ourselves.
No need to say I fell in love. Not only I adore the language, but the music style and her voice. Zaz has only one released album (10 May, 2010) so far, and the singles are pretty astonishing (my favorite is Port Coton).
I am deeply fond of artists that succeed in putting themselves inside the art they make. It is what keep the art alive, for what we see is nothing but a corpse waiting to be animated with feelings, thoughts and energy. Like us. We show forms that we inhabit and shape with our own self. In the make of art, we pick up the pieces and use our techniques and emotions and wills and intentions as glue. Without that, pieces would be pieces until someone else do what we failed to.
We, without art, are naught but alone and glued to glue, imprisoned by weightlessness.
Art, without us, is naught but chaotic and lost, bound to be forgotten.
Art is thus naught but what we love and need and rely on the most: ourselves.
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