Spirit

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Drunk a Bit

Belles-lettres

“To sit alone or with a few friends, half-drunk under a full moon, you just understand how lucky you are; it’s a story you can’t tell. It’s a story you almost by definition, can’t share. I’ve learned in real time to look at those things and realize: I just had a really good moment.”

— Anthony Bourdain, In his Final Interview

What a great photo and wonderful sentiment. Interesting how so many people in their comments objected to the “half drunk,” feeling that something was lost due to the alcohol consumption. I took the time to explain that there are so many things to be drunk on besides alcohol. The wine of the Universe, or Rumi’s drunk on Spirit (and he was always drunk) as examples.

So today:

The Irish soda bread is back! I overindulged and ended with a lump for a stomach.

I got pink chopsticks at China Wok to use with my fried rice. They are wonderful.

It snowed. Today it is winter when it has been spring for a week with temperatures in the high 60s. And the birds were carrying on while the old folks had opened their windows. It’s rather fun…spring…winter…spring…winter. Nothing is permanent.

And why, so many people wonder, did Bourdain kill himself? Because it never leaves, that blackness that travels underneath. Always it comes back to that. No matter where you go or what distraction occupies you, sooner or later, it calls. That thud. The landing. And you feel it surround you and you are alone with it. That black anchored pull. Sometimes you just can’t fight your way out.

I wonder if as many people understand that as do not. Maybe as many as those who get drunk on the Universe. Maybe as many as those who dance with Spirit.

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Words

John Atkinson Grimshaw – Spirit of the Night (detail), 1879

Words. Fall in love with words—with their spirit, their story. “She was fascinated with words. To her, words were things of beauty, each like a magical powder or potion that could be combined with other words to create powerful spells.”  Dean Koontz – Lightning

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Just A Few

Thoughts for today

Poetic Outlaws · 7 hrs · I hate who steals my solitude without, in exchange, offering me true company. - Nietzsche

Posted by Poetic Outlaws

“I hate who steals my solitude without, in exchange, offering me true company.” – Spoken by our old pal Nietzsche. Don’t you think he would have been quite handsome had he shaved his beard? OK, done off with all of the facial hair? I find it interesting that it’s his words which carry such significance and insight, such heroic thoughts come to life—and yet he hides his mouth—would he have then mumbled when he spoke? He doesn’t when he writes.

Psyche's Call with Donna May Page Liked · 6 hrs · Carl Jung

Posted by Donna May Story Tender

Spirit of Old Page Liked · 14 hrs · Solstice Blessings. We honour the returning of the light!

And here we are, having turned the corner into Summer. Summer of 2020. What witches’ works have brought us here? Does the world hold its breath in expectation of the next great plague? (I hear that dust storms are on the way.) Do not the artists continue to work, trying to capture those things that growl up from within? Do we not seek to hide away in our books, movies, dreams? When will it be safe for us to surface in this sea? We dance on, crawl on, weighted by our own thoughts, our own fears. Yet here we are. Again. Another Summer. We always make it through, say those who make it through.