Monday, August 30, 2010

Wave Dance by Paul Lee



Wave Dance
Sea Wall, Dawlish

Charge to the sea wall, slap it hard, roll back with the swell and
merge…

Charge to the sea wall, slap it hard, roll back with the swell,
meet the next wave charging in, present your crest
and make high fives, pass on through back with the swell and
merge…

Charge to the sea wall, slap it hard, roll back with the swell,
meet the next wave charging in, slap it hard
with white hurrahs, recoil to the sea wall, cuff its base,
roll back with the swell and merge…

Charge to the sea wall, slap it hard, roll back with the swell and
merge…

Sunday, August 29, 2010

The Dance by Divya Mathur

The Dance by Divya Mathur

The shimmering moonlight
Came down to make illuminate
The dry sand dune

Her skirt was made of
Sixty rays
Her blouse was stitched but with
one
And her scarf!
As if it was dipped into
Blue, red, green, yellow and
Myriad bright colours

What a tiny waist!
What a sweet voice!

And as she touched the ground
And Lo and behold!
The sand started to dance!

Divya Mathur - The Dance - original text in Hindi

Dance of the Will to Freedom.



"-not only in the rhythm of proportions, but in the rhythm of wills."

-a quote from Tagore, which made me think of creative dance, its beauty and will to freedom.

tonight we are going to the Alonzo King Ballet from San Francisco-looks good.

Friday, August 20, 2010

Rabindranath Tagore-life a poem.

A few days ago I was book by Tagore. It was old, 1917 and the page edges were ragged and soft as blotting paper but the words were bright as spring flowers.

" From this we find our ideal. Perpetual giving up is the truth of life. The perfection of this is our life's perfection. We are to make this life our poem in all its expressions; it must be fully suggestive of our soul which is infinite, not merely of our possessions which have no meaning in themselves. The consciousness of the infinite in us proves itself in our joy in giving ourselves out of our abundance. And then our work is the process of our renunciation, it is one with our life. It is like the flowing of the river, which is the river itself."

Reading the book was, for me like reading T S Eliot's Quartets. I think he was an influence on Eliot. The idea I also come away with is that the One is manifest in the Particular. I am imagining a paticular field of Himalayan primula.