A Week In Thought.
These will happen regularly on Sundays, (pending) I’ve been getting the gears going on my machine again. I’ve also added the directory of old blogs back to .data. You can check out my every Sunday blog all the way back to I believe ‘22-’21 ish.
Anyways, to the meat.
Beethoven On The True Artist
Beethoven once wrote in a letter of advice to a young aspiring artist, “The true artist, is sad not to have reached that point to which his better genius only appears as a distant, guiding sun.”
Georgia O’Keefe writes of this phenomena in a letter, saying it is a process of, “making your unknown known, and keeping the unknown always beyond you.”
It’s not about being hyper critical of your work. Rather just particular about the translation of, not only what is in your brain, but also what it is capable of. It’s seeing your work as important steps and processes you pour hours and hours into. You pour your passion, your devotion, you draw upon everything you have learned up until that point. And no matter how satisfied you are in the moment, it fades.
Which is both beautiful, and a wound. It’s beautiful because that is the nature of us. We are always learning, always pushing our boundaries, going just a little farther. And that is beautiful. The wound is in the brevity of satisfaction.
Edging ever closer to that distant guiding sun.
The Most Important Traits In Life
5 of them.
Tenacity.
Self-Forgetfulness.
Patience.
Stubbornness.
Commitment.
I’ll end off with an except from an article I read.
Love
”Like all the great creations of humanity, love is twofold: it is the supreme happiness and the supreme misfortune… Lovers pass constantly from rapture to despair, from sadness to joy, from wrath to tenderness, from desperation to sensuality… The lover is perpetually driven by contradictory emotions. Popular language, in all times and all places, abounds in expressions that describe the vulnerability of a person in love: love is a wound, an injury. But as St. John of the Cross says, it is “a wound that is a gift,” a “gentle cautery,” a “delightful wound.” Yes, love is a flower of blood. It is also a talisman: the vulnerability of lovers protects them. Their shield is their lack of defense; their armor is their nakedness.
[…]
Yet despite all the ills and misfortunes it brings, we always endeavor to love and be loved. Love is the closest thing on this earth to the beatitude of the blessed.”
Thanks for reading.
As always,
Stay warm.
dc
