radfrac_archive_full (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
radfrac_archive_full) wrote2006-08-24 12:21 pm
radfrac_archive_full) wrote2006-08-24 12:21 pm
(no subject)
Without Internet at home right now, I post less often than I used to, which is sad, since I have heaps of things I'd like to tell you.
Last weekend I had a perfect Saturday, fortunately also recorded by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
inlandsea. It's funny, and useful, how one perfect day can infuse the memory of a whole summer with satisfaction. I always think of A Summer as a unit, June to August.
I got up late and oh I probably played some solitaire and brooded, but move on from there, move on; even a perfect day needs a little gloom for contrast. Then I went to the Moss St. Market, where I went mad over the organic produce, which is finally starting to be full of all the wonderful things that ripen at the end of the summer, the swelling gold and red bulbous exuberance of life showing off its fat excellent fruition. And vegetation. Heirloom tomatoes! For only one sweet crisp example.
I ended up watching over the sauce booth while its owner made the market circuit, and as a reward she gave me the bottle of sauce she'd used for samples. (the other jars had all sold. Assugarpunfairy says, You gotta get on the sauce! It is Some Sauce.
sugarplumfairy loaned me two Anne Carson books, and I loaned her Two Strand River, which is one of those strange little novels Canadians seem to be so apt to produce. I was given it in a lot with Ulysses, The Double Hook, and The Invention of the World, by a long-ago ex otherwise best left out of this particular discussion.
Then there was blackberry-picking along the Galloping Goose trail, and then I did a quick overall cleaning-and-arranging of the house for the evening's guestage, and that's wheninlandsea's account and mine converge, so maybe I will leave it there.
I want to tell you about Eros the Bittersweet, which is one of the two Carsons fromsugarpunfairy -- the other being Plainwater -- and which is changing the way I think about eros. I am reading it slowly, so that I can watch the change happen in my mind. When the stone blocks of the labyrinth shift and new paths open, old paths close, and I don't want to forget them just yet. I might need them again.
My Eros is a muddy boy, composed of my notions of erotic love, mixed with some vague Freudian notions, dancing in the arms of his brother Thanatos.
Carson is talking specifically about the Greek conception of Eros, and she says that what defines eros, desire, is the lack of what you desire. If you had what you desired, you would not desire it in the same way; it would not be eros.
Eros defined by lack. It's terrible. I resist it. It's inescapably true. And immediately applicable.
{rf}
Last weekend I had a perfect Saturday, fortunately also recorded by
inlandsea. It's funny, and useful, how one perfect day can infuse the memory of a whole summer with satisfaction. I always think of A Summer as a unit, June to August.I got up late and oh I probably played some solitaire and brooded, but move on from there, move on; even a perfect day needs a little gloom for contrast. Then I went to the Moss St. Market, where I went mad over the organic produce, which is finally starting to be full of all the wonderful things that ripen at the end of the summer, the swelling gold and red bulbous exuberance of life showing off its fat excellent fruition. And vegetation. Heirloom tomatoes! For only one sweet crisp example.
I ended up watching over the sauce booth while its owner made the market circuit, and as a reward she gave me the bottle of sauce she'd used for samples. (the other jars had all sold. As
sugarpunfairy says, You gotta get on the sauce! It is Some Sauce.sugarplumfairy loaned me two Anne Carson books, and I loaned her Two Strand River, which is one of those strange little novels Canadians seem to be so apt to produce. I was given it in a lot with Ulysses, The Double Hook, and The Invention of the World, by a long-ago ex otherwise best left out of this particular discussion.Then there was blackberry-picking along the Galloping Goose trail, and then I did a quick overall cleaning-and-arranging of the house for the evening's guestage, and that's when
inlandsea's account and mine converge, so maybe I will leave it there.I want to tell you about Eros the Bittersweet, which is one of the two Carsons from
sugarpunfairy -- the other being Plainwater -- and which is changing the way I think about eros. I am reading it slowly, so that I can watch the change happen in my mind. When the stone blocks of the labyrinth shift and new paths open, old paths close, and I don't want to forget them just yet. I might need them again.My Eros is a muddy boy, composed of my notions of erotic love, mixed with some vague Freudian notions, dancing in the arms of his brother Thanatos.
Carson is talking specifically about the Greek conception of Eros, and she says that what defines eros, desire, is the lack of what you desire. If you had what you desired, you would not desire it in the same way; it would not be eros.
Eros defined by lack. It's terrible. I resist it. It's inescapably true. And immediately applicable.
{rf}