Open the window to a different view

If I were a young writer searching for my voice would you listen and comment on my veracity in tone and text?
I could be standing on the stone in the river watching the river move slowly on. I could watch and tell you of the upstream... the otters, the arching willows, trout sleeping in dark pools. no, I could not see the rapids and the waterfall, a few miles further on.
I am downstream, looking back at the beautiful falls; the river pounding on the slippery rocks under the foaming water. I stand on a sandy beach eroding as I watch the falls.
I am old, I remember clinging to the rock above the falls. I remember how the current of time swept me down stream and the only mercy was the rock I could cling to as I listened to the crashing river.

click to feed fish

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Oh the Power the Lord would give us to see ourselves as others see us


Self-portrait
Paris, Summer 1887
Oil on canvas 41x33.3cm
Hartford Connecticut
Wadsworth Atheneuum

http://www.vangoghgallery.com/misc/bio.html


      The determination in Vincent’s face is clear. He had left London and the dreams of the ministry. He knew his sermons would be on the canvas and not at the pulpit. The arguments with Theo, his brother, whom he lived with, on Rue Lepic in Montmartre, were fierce. Theo wanted to paint too. Vincent needed Theo’s financial support.
     The dent on Vincent’s head in this particular portrait is of significance to those who believe that Vincent was not mad but merely an alcoholic, the dent probably from birth or early childhood seems to indicate a strong diagnosis for epilepsy triggered by alcohol. The dent is a sign of a brain injury.    
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