“All life is loaned to us by God, whose crooked reflections we are. Love alone makes that reflection straight. Love alone gives us back ourselves.”
~ Erica Jong, from Shylock’s Daughter: A Novel of Love in Venice (W. W. Norton & Company, 2003.)
For Liepollo… Hamba kahle, sana. xx
As you set out for Ithaka
hope your road is a long one,
full of adventure, full of discovery.
angry Poseidon – don’t be afraid of them:
you’ll never find things like that on your way
as long as you keep your thoughts raised high,
as long as a rare excitement
stirs your spirit and your body.
wild Poseidon – you won’t encounter them
unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you.
Hope your road is a long one.
May there be many summer mornings when,
with what pleasure, what joy,
you enter harbours you’re seeing for the first time;
may you stop at Phoenician trading stations
to buy fine things,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
sensual perfume of every kind –
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
and may you visit many Egyptian cities
to learn and go on learning from their scholars.
Keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you’re destined for.
But don’t hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you’re old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you’ve gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.
Ithaka gave you the marvellous journey.
Without her you wouldn’t have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.
And if you find her poor, Ithaka won’t have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you’ll have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.
from C.P. Cavafy’s Collected Poems, trs. Edmund Keeley
and Philip Sherrard (Hogarth Press, 1975)
“The main theme [of what we do] is expanding musical structures to a point where you can’t tell the difference anymore between music and not-music, or expanded to a point where it doesn’t make any difference anymore to you if it is music or not… It’s not going to be simplified into something like simple “destruction”. We don’t want anyone to come to the concerts just to see us destroying something. If we feel an attitude like that coming up we just get in a bad mood!”
Ah, Blixa, you lovely creature!
What distinguishes consciousness of self from the world of nature is not the simple act of contemplation by which it identifies itself with the exterior world and finds oblivion, but the desire it can feel with regard to the world. This desire re-establishes its identity when it demonstrates that the exterior world is something apart. In its desire, the exterior world consists of what it does not possess, but which nevertheless exists, and of what it would like to exist but which no longer does. Consciousness of self is therefore, of necessity, desire. But in order to exist it must be satisfied, and it can only be satisfied by the gratification of its desire. It therefore acts in order to gratify itself and, in so doing, it denies and suppresses its means of gratification. It is the epitome of negation.
from The Rebel
On fighting, on self-knowledge, on honest expression, on balance… such an articulate man. “Be water, my friend.”