SELF PORTRAIT OF THE DAY

18TH MARCH

MOTHERING SUNDAY

SO I DID TWO! . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Thoughts for The Day

Lovely sunny day here, so lets go outside to paraphrase George Michael (not something you'd normally do!? ED)

after what feels like a long if milder winter than last couple of years it is nice to feel the light on my face......not that I am known for my sun worship rather a vampire be...but the Light, THE LIGHT what joy!

Without it there would be no great photography like this.............

Gonna go listen to Keith Jarrett 'Remain in Light' and then go outside and clean my scooter (is that a euphemism? ED) Aaaah, the Spring when a young man's fancy etc etc....quite where that leaves this Ole Fogey remains to be seen but I still Dream....(Richard Thompson?ED)

I was mesmerised by the TV Keats and Fanny story last night 'Bright Star' with Ben Whishaw (brilliant!) and the tantalising Abbie Cornish and I found it spellbinding. Jane Campion wrote and directed so you knew it as going to be worth watching and came good from what felt like a shaky beginning (didn't think they got the tone or the setting quite right at first glance, something about the costumes but the acting and the vision were sublime).......reassures my faith in a fading media...well fading into dross largely......but this was magical.

Bright Star

Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art--
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors--
No--yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever--or else swoon to death. 

John Keats 1795-1821

What's it all about? I hear the sot & slattern beseech!?
Read this letter to Fanny and you will understand. 
Aaah, romantic love, bless them, both
 

My dearest Girl,
This moment I have set myself to copy some verses out fair.  I cannot proceed with any degree of content.  I must write you a line or two and see if that will assist in dismissing you from my Mind for ever so short a time.  Upon my Soul I can think of nothing else - The time is passed when I had power to advise and warn you again[s]t the unpromising morning of my Life - My love has made me selfish.  I cannot exist without you - I am forgetful of every thing but seeing you again - my Life seems to stop there - I see no further.  You have absorb'd me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving - I should be exquisitely miserable without the hope of soon seeing you.  I should be afraid to separate myself far from you.  My sweet Fanny, will your heart never change?  My love, will it?  I have no limit now to my love - You note came in just here - I cannot be happier away from you - 'T is richer than an Argosy of Pearles.  Do not threat me even in jest. I have been astonished that Men could die Martyrs for religion - I have shudder'd at it - I shudder no more - I could be martyr'd for my Religion - Love is my religion - I could die for that - I could die for you.  My Creed is Love and you are its only tenet - You have ravish'd me away by a Power I cannot resist: and yet I could resist till I saw you; and even since I have seen you I have endeavoured often "to reason against the reasons of my Love."  I can do that no more - the pain would be too great - My Love is selfish - I cannot breathe without you.
Yours for ever
John Keats