the sourcerer: Perhaps love IS a hat.

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Perhaps love IS a hat.

My previous post resulted in numerous phone calls and a bag full of mail. Thank you!

An astute friend wrote:

Love might be a hat. If we had no control over falling in love, then many of us would live lives full of guilt and remorse and regret. I've held back from falling in love, sensing that it could be more dangerous and destructive than pleasurable. I think there is a point where, consciously or unconsciously, a decision is made to fall, or to stand on the brink, or to step back entirely. To admire the hat, to lift it up and look at it from all angles, or to put it on.

I hope she doesn't mind me quoting her. This is a person of great integrity - a rare quality these days.

I'm a careful person. I've not been in love many times,

but I fall in love like...

falling off a cliff.

My friend's words have made a large impression and I'm taking a step back to reflect.

4 comments:

Marie said...: Some hats also blow off in a big wind...

I agree with the Astute Friend. But all too often we ignore the weather forecast.; February 12, 2011 at 5:55 PM
Karl said...: I just want one that shields me from the elements and people don't laugh at... and doesn't blow away in a breeze.; February 12, 2011 at 6:38 PM
the sourcerer said...: Yes. you want someone to watch your back.

I think the trick is not to ignore your gut feeling, but it all becomes a bit cloudy when you fall head over heels.; February 13, 2011 at 8:47 AM
arcadia said...: Ek stem saam met jou vriendin. Soms weet mens net dinge gaan fucked-up eindig. En dan stap mens weg.; February 14, 2011 at 8:17 AM

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You could tend a garden at night, only at night, pouring dark water onto leaves, and into the earth, like pouring midnight onto midnight. You could hold your soil-stained hands up to the moon. The stars would gleam on the bottom of the shovel. It would smell the same as a daytime garden - it would smell green, violet, red, white. But come back, in daylight. Come back, to see the colours without closing your eyes.
- Sean Michaels. Accompaniment to the song "Immune" by LOW. Said the Gramophone

Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is non-existent. And don't bother concealing your thievery - celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: "It's not where you take things from - it's where you take them to."
Jim Jarmusch (1953- )

You got very hungry when you did not eat enough in Paris because all the bakery shops had such good things in the windows and people ate outside at tables on the sidewalk so that you saw and smelled the food. When you had given up journalism and were writing nothing that anyone in America would buy, explaining at home that you were lunching out with someone, the best place to go was the Luxembourg gardens where you smelled and saw nothing to eat all the way from the Place de l'Observatoire to the rue de Vaugirard. There you could always go into the Luxembourg museum and all the paintings were sharpened and clearer and more beautiful if you were belly-empty, hollow-hungry. I learned to understand Cézanne much better and to see truly how he made landscapes when I was hungry. I used to wonder if he were hungry too when he painted; but I thought possibly it was only that he had forgotten to eat. It was one of those unsound but illuminating thoughts you have when you have been sleepless or hungry. Later I thought that Cézanne was probably hungry in a different way.
Ernest Hemingway (1899-1961) - from A Moveable Feast.