This is the collaborative journal of W.C. Chambers and J.R. Bowman. Read. Wonder. Reply. Thanks for stopping by.
Tuesday, September 27, 2005,3:00 PM
Rain, and the Nature of things
When it rains.....
It reminds me of good times, bad times and all the times I've felt the most alone, the most calm, and the most happy in life.
It feels good to know I see the rain as a companion now ... I didn't always enjoy it. As a kid I feared the rain because I knew I was going to have a gloomy day in doors. But now I appreciate it. I run outside at the first sight of rain just so I can feel the first few drops hit my face and cool my skin. And if it's pouring I let it soak my clothes as I open my arms outstretched welcoming the change in weather from hot to cool. The reason why I enjoy it so much now has nothing to do with any kind of fetish or sick obsession I have with nature but because I see in nature what we're all suppose to see, and that is beauty. I dont expect the beauty I see in nature to be the same that you see. I just think we should all start taking notice, quit taking it all for granted.
For me,
It's like nature is atempting to remind all of us of the sorrow that hides within us all. And the rejuvenation we can have if we allow ourselves to let that sorrow out. Doesn't the planet feel so fresh just after a good hard rain. Trust me if you let the sorrow out, let the tears flow every once in a while, then you too will feel better about yourself because you were able to let it out and you'll feel rejuvenated just like our still beautiful planet after a great rain.
It reminds me of good times, bad times and all the times I've felt the most alone, the most calm, and the most happy in life.
It feels good to know I see the rain as a companion now ... I didn't always enjoy it. As a kid I feared the rain because I knew I was going to have a gloomy day in doors. But now I appreciate it. I run outside at the first sight of rain just so I can feel the first few drops hit my face and cool my skin. And if it's pouring I let it soak my clothes as I open my arms outstretched welcoming the change in weather from hot to cool. The reason why I enjoy it so much now has nothing to do with any kind of fetish or sick obsession I have with nature but because I see in nature what we're all suppose to see, and that is beauty. I dont expect the beauty I see in nature to be the same that you see. I just think we should all start taking notice, quit taking it all for granted.
For me,
It's like nature is atempting to remind all of us of the sorrow that hides within us all. And the rejuvenation we can have if we allow ourselves to let that sorrow out. Doesn't the planet feel so fresh just after a good hard rain. Trust me if you let the sorrow out, let the tears flow every once in a while, then you too will feel better about yourself because you were able to let it out and you'll feel rejuvenated just like our still beautiful planet after a great rain.
Monday, September 19, 2005,9:03 PM
Ceci n'est pas une pipe
Oh Magritte you magnificent bastard!
You created a philosophical debate over such an absurd statement as "Ceci n'est pas une pipe". What a bold statement to make! So simple and yet so deep! And what is it with the psychology references? Paintings such as The Pleasure Principle, The Interpretation of Dreams, and of course the Psychologist! Is this how you imagine us? Have we offended you in any way? Or is this how you show your love for we explorers of the mind?
I am torn between verbally attacking you and loving you. Do I want to speak out against surrealism or hang your work on my wall? Would putting the Psychologist on a T-shirt and wearing it to Abnormal be a good thing or would it be an insult to my future profession? These are questions that I must look deep into the art world to discover an answer for. Even if that means I have to endure the pain of...ugg...modern art and probe the senseless dribble of the subjective art world. But in the end I still may find, regarless of your taste for psychology, that I am still a fan.
You created a philosophical debate over such an absurd statement as "Ceci n'est pas une pipe". What a bold statement to make! So simple and yet so deep! And what is it with the psychology references? Paintings such as The Pleasure Principle, The Interpretation of Dreams, and of course the Psychologist! Is this how you imagine us? Have we offended you in any way? Or is this how you show your love for we explorers of the mind?
I am torn between verbally attacking you and loving you. Do I want to speak out against surrealism or hang your work on my wall? Would putting the Psychologist on a T-shirt and wearing it to Abnormal be a good thing or would it be an insult to my future profession? These are questions that I must look deep into the art world to discover an answer for. Even if that means I have to endure the pain of...ugg...modern art and probe the senseless dribble of the subjective art world. But in the end I still may find, regarless of your taste for psychology, that I am still a fan.
Sunday, September 11, 2005,10:01 AM
Dylan Thomas: "Do Not Go Gentle Into that Good Night"
I really like this poem. It, I feel, is a great inspiration when you feel like you've failed, the burden is too heavy, or like you can't go forward anymore.
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.