True – but not the whole truth

And so I’ve finished The Rings of Saturn, and I ask myself: Was this a good way to start 2019? To tell the truth — I’m not entirely sure. The text is without doubt a masterpiece; written in a beautiful prose, based on vast knowledge, connecting us, contemporary life, to history in a highly original…

Ways Of Looking At A Poem

When studying literature I did my best to avoid poetry. I found it very difficult to find a place for my own feelings & reflections – reading poetry was like doing maths = trying to find THE right answer. Maybe this is why Gregory Orr has made such a difference in my literary life? Here…

1 = 1

Today I have been reading “1 = 1” by Anne Carson It’s a wonderful text, you’ll find it in THE NEW YORKER – and here are just a few lines for you: Imagine how many pools, ponds, lakes, bays, streams, stretches of swimmable shore there are in the world right now, probably half of them…

Full of nothing, or: There is only everything – .

I watched this video-poem by Aaron Fagan: which I really liked, and so I did some googling, to find out a bit more about its author. Here is what Fagan has to say about his own poetry – and poetry in general: The fact people hate poetry so much is part of why I love it so much….

Gather Ye Rosebuds While Ye May … (cont.)

Still working on my rose-text, today I will show you a contemporary version of the motif: Cy Twombly: The Rose IV (2008). Acrylic on plywood, 252 x 740 cm. Cy Twombly’s The Rose is a cycle of five paintings, numbered I – V, the paintings are variations of each other. Cy Twombly: The Rose V (2008). Acrylic on plywood, 252 x 740…

Live the questions …

Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point…

Sea-change

How to write about nature in a way that makes the reader feel the landscape as if she was there; wandering through it … absorbed, possessed – ? Here is Jean Sprackland: Countless times I’ve seen the shore hewn and hammered, scattered with whole tree trunks, steel pipes, oil drums, concrete fence posts, dead sheep….

A talent for concealment and revelation

A breeze was blowing, and I could smell salt, seaweed, and sun-bleached shore. I knew, once again, that I’d found home. –Sue Hubbell, Waiting for Aphrodite I never tire of the coast because it’s never the same twice. The tides and the weather change its physical shape, and they bring different things to look at….

It is hard to drop from the self into the soul

From “The Edge of the Frame”, by Tony Hoagland             (an excerpt)   Joseph Cornell collected souvenirs of places he was miserable in, which pretty much was everywhere he went. Churchill felt afraid on stairs. Terrible migraines of Virginia Woolf entered her skull and would not be evicted. I read biographies because I want to…