Bekehrung (Conversion): Egon Schiele, 1912
In a true
light, all
pasts
perfect. Beyond that
melting
door
to the garden, what
lies, what
more
could one ask?
Desktop in the prisoner of war camp in Mühling: Egon Schiele, 1916
Daisy, convolvulus and poppy: Egon Schiele, 1918
Gefangener (Prisoner): Egon Schiele, 24 April 1912 (Albertina, Vienna)
Tür in das Offene (Door to Freedom): Egon Schiele, 21 April 1912 (Albertina. Vienna)
Die eine Orange war das einzige Licht (The single orange was the only light): Egon Schiele, 19 April 1912 (Albertina, Vienna)
7 comments:
A single orange was the only light . . .
Both beautiful and somber.
It's pouring rain here, and this post is mixing with my desire to be optimistic and a heavy weight of another lightless day, which has its own dark and wet beauty.
Conversion? The past perfects? Much to think about.
Tom,
Yes, I second Schiele's and Nin's note that "The single orange was the only light," -- no light here now but that which somehow arrives through thick fog. . .
11.29
fog moving to the left across invisible
ridge, shadowed green of leaf on branch
in foreground, wave sounding in channel
“of” mentioned in letter to,
noted further that is
is essential not that it is,
in what is, of itself
sunlit orange edge of cloud above ridge,
white cloud in pale blue sky on horizon
Thanks Nin and Steve,
The desire for the light amid the weight of the dark, winter days and nights, Schiele's strange intensities, the work of a very young man, which yet feels as though he's "seen old".
The single orange in the bleak cell, standing in the for the sun which is not to be seen in the dense fog of today, though there lingers the memory of yesterday's
sunlit orange edge of cloud
Tom,
For some strange reason, this one led me here.
Vassilis,
For some even stranger reason, that link led me to "Page Not Found".
(Gremlins snatching up the crumbs on the trail?)
Vassilis,
OK, your five Mythistorema posts worked me up into a Watson-like lather, tonight. I've now searched 'em all for clues. And found the golden rule unraveling...
"They seek him here/ They seek him there/ They seek him everywhere," as was once said of the Scarlet Pimpernel.
Thanks for helping us to home in on the light, once again.
(This, of course, was the prime suspect, and has been under close interrogation.)
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