I always seem to get into these conversations , forgive me if the response is not always linear , I am a female after all . First of all , my mother says that dreams are intractable , they are ghosts walking the earth , waiting to find someone to influence to allow actuation of the desire that spawned them . So for me the idea of the spectre is not a necessarily negative one , but it is a powerful one . Sometimes , when I feel empty and devoid of desire , I reach into the story of another person , and take on that ghost , for example , recently a few of my poems came out a little bit like Emily Dickenson , and I am not ashamed to sign her name to them -" Emily Dickenson , from beyond the grave " which then makes me laugh . So the spectre , depending on the reader , could mean many things , to many people . On facebook , someone wrote that the small sustainable farm was a living hell for so many who wanted to escape it , but , they wrote " it sure is really photogenic in facebook postings " -- a friend who wants to leave Cuba for the USA sent me photos of what looked like the Garden of Edenn . I said " You wish to leave , and my wish is that I could get you to fall in love with where you are ." I wrote to him the POWER of the dream , and the dream IS the spectre that Baudelaire is writing about , and this is what I wrote -- ( just as I am not ashamed to sign Emily Dickenson to a poem , I am also not ashamed to quote myself , as to me , I watch my heart speak through my typing fingers and again , I LAUGH ) - the quote " And slowly , I am seeing that
the picture of the heart is so much more seriously powerful than our minds ability to try to change the trajectory of that flaming arrow once released ." -- But now , I will copy paste YOUR thought , " Forget your body and become your mind " - Said in contrarian sarcasm , because it says it all . This is the great drama of our times , and something that we must learn about and teach to the generations . As always , enjoy bouncing off of your thoughts . J
Jennifer, well said. I'm glad it wasn't linear. It is clearer, more whole the way you said it. The spectre as a ghost of the past. Powerful image. That ghost is resides in our lives. It is very Faulknerian notion as he put it into the mouth Gavin Stephens - "The past ain't dead. It ain't even past." In my family, the past is remembered and honored. The lure of the cities is there, as well as sorrow for lost connection to the traditions of the past.
Reading Devaraj's thoughts, reminded me of a song by the Bluegrass band, J. D. Crowe and The New South song. The song is called Old Home Place. Here's the song.
I always seem to get into these conversations , forgive me if the response is not always linear , I am a female after all . First of all , my mother says that dreams are intractable , they are ghosts walking the earth , waiting to find someone to influence to allow actuation of the desire that spawned them . So for me the idea of the spectre is not a necessarily negative one , but it is a powerful one . Sometimes , when I feel empty and devoid of desire , I reach into the story of another person , and take on that ghost , for example , recently a few of my poems came out a little bit like Emily Dickenson , and I am not ashamed to sign her name to them -" Emily Dickenson , from beyond the grave " which then makes me laugh . So the spectre , depending on the reader , could mean many things , to many people . On facebook , someone wrote that the small sustainable farm was a living hell for so many who wanted to escape it , but , they wrote " it sure is really photogenic in facebook postings " -- a friend who wants to leave Cuba for the USA sent me photos of what looked like the Garden of Edenn . I said " You wish to leave , and my wish is that I could get you to fall in love with where you are ." I wrote to him the POWER of the dream , and the dream IS the spectre that Baudelaire is writing about , and this is what I wrote -- ( just as I am not ashamed to sign Emily Dickenson to a poem , I am also not ashamed to quote myself , as to me , I watch my heart speak through my typing fingers and again , I LAUGH ) - the quote " And slowly , I am seeing that
the picture of the heart is so much more seriously powerful than our minds ability to try to change the trajectory of that flaming arrow once released ." -- But now , I will copy paste YOUR thought , " Forget your body and become your mind " - Said in contrarian sarcasm , because it says it all . This is the great drama of our times , and something that we must learn about and teach to the generations . As always , enjoy bouncing off of your thoughts . J
Jennifer, well said. I'm glad it wasn't linear. It is clearer, more whole the way you said it. The spectre as a ghost of the past. Powerful image. That ghost is resides in our lives. It is very Faulknerian notion as he put it into the mouth Gavin Stephens - "The past ain't dead. It ain't even past." In my family, the past is remembered and honored. The lure of the cities is there, as well as sorrow for lost connection to the traditions of the past.
Reading Devaraj's thoughts, reminded me of a song by the Bluegrass band, J. D. Crowe and The New South song. The song is called Old Home Place. Here's the song.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LXA3UGcbZFI&list=OLAK5uy_me6JZF-RZ8mLDmNQ69v3m-NT28HqlCPMI&index=1
Here are the lyrics.
Artist: J.D. Crowe and the New South
Song: Old Home Place
[Verse 1]
It's been ten long years since I left my home
In the holler where I was born
Where the cool fall nights make the wood smoke rise
And the fox hunter blows his horn
in love with a girl from the town
I thought that she would be true
I ran away to Charlottesville
And worked in a sawmill or two
[Chorus]
What have they done to the old home place?
Why did they tear it down?
And why did I leave my plow in the field?
And look for a job in the town?
[Verse 2]
Well, the girl ran off with somebody else
The tariffs took all my pay
And here I stand where the old home stood
Before they took it away
Now the geese fly south and the cold wind blows
As I stand here and hang my head
I've lost my love, I've lost my home
And now I wish that I was dead
[Chorus]
What have they done to the old home place?
Why did they tear it down?
And why did I leave my plow in the field?
And look for a job in the town?
[Chorus]
What have they done to the old home place?
Why did they tear it down?
And why did I leave my plow in the field?
And look for a job in the town?
This is a very Southern perspective from before the days of mass media and the global monoculture.
I like this song -
Yeah, it’s real.