L'aura del Campo

Moon and the purpose of poetry, two trees, two films

Winter: 8 Mulk (February 14)

TREASURE OF THE DAY

And when the tempests have rent, spent, and flown,
I humbly pick up myself...and my own home.
Then I'd choose, where next to roam.
And what to ponder and do.

from:

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My comments: The form is perfect of course and the idea is great. It makes sense throughout, but at the end the reader finds out that what is being talked about isn't what they thought. Kudos for pulling that off!

2006-02-14
morning, 46 degrees and rising. 22 in Missoula, MT.

Montana is in for some bone cold weather in a couple days. Here too by the week end. Good thing the spring flowers are holding off, although when I go out, I wouldn't be surprized if more is in bloom.

Last night, when I was coming down the hill at 7:45, the moon was behind a haze of light clouds. Imagine a cross made by two jet trails, one north-south and fairly definate, the east-west one more diffused and squiggly to the east. The moon was hovering in the lower left quadrant, lighting it all. My camera couldn't capture it. A painting could. By the time I got to where I was going by 8, the magic was gone. The moon had risen through the left arm of the cross then above and beyond. Many moments that are beautiful are ephemeral in much the same way.

Berlin Festival's controversial movies: The Road to Guantanamo directed by Michael Winterbottom tells the story of the Tipton Three who were jailed without cause by the U.S. and Annette Olesen's 1:1 about interreligious friendships in Denmark. If timing is everything, then these films timed it well.

From the Atlantic Monthly (January/Frebruary 2006):

An excerpt from The Purpose of Poetry by John F. Kennedy, a speech from 1963:

When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the areas of man's concerns, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of his existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses, for art establishes the basic human truths which must serve as the touchstones of our judgement. The artist, however faithful to his personal vision of reality, becomes the last champion of the individual mind and sensibility against an intrusive society and an officious state. The great artist is thus a solitary figure. He has, as Frost said, "a lover's quarrel with the world." In pursuing his perceptions of reality he must often sail against the currents of his time ...

If sometimes our great artists have been the most critical of our society, it is becaause their sensitivity and their concern for justice, which must motivate any true artist, make them aware that our nation falls short of its highest potential.

SENSED

Smooth silver bark, charcoal grey and rough in the crotch of branch, a bud protected by scarlet bracts below the scar left when a branch broke off. Small fragile bumps on a maple landscape. Last year's twigs a dull red-brown. Bark wounds light burnt siena turning black then fading to grey. [Silver Maple]

Old bark flaking to leave smooth orange skin. The old bark curling with yellow lichen. The chaos of branching, a red shrivelled fruit clinging to a tip.
[Crabapple]

2006-02-14
afternoon, 63 here and in Tahlequah, OK.

Beautiful day. Two meetings and lunch and doing my blog meant I didn't get anything else accomplished. So much for being a writer!

Interesting short (11 questions) quiz about cultural expectations worldwide when eating:

http://www.fekids.com/img/kln/flash/DontGrossOutTheWorld.swf

I got 8 right, not bad, but I should've gotten 9 or 10. There was one I simply had no clue on.

I'm looking at what I sketched a year ago on Valentine's Day. Don't even remember if I gave this one a title or ever edited it! So here it is:

Anti-valentine

Pluck out my eyes so I can't see you
smile; plug ears to still your song.
Sew my lips that I may never speak your
name again. Cut off my limbs that I may
crawl in pain, never hold you in my arms.
Make sure my severed tongue can't taste
your laughter. Keep alive my hope long past
the wishing I were dead. And when
an eternity has passed and you
have lost all you once had owned,
open up my heart and take what's yours,
the life I gave to you. [161.1062]

Hmmm. 1,217 views, but no comments today. But day isn't over ! I finally crawled back up the "Most Credited Reviewers List" to #96. Took some time off from reviewing for a while.