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Pearls from artists* # 419

A corner of Barbara’s West Village apartment

A corner of Barbara’s West Village apartment

*an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.

Dear Reader,

We wouldn’t need books quite so much if everyone around us understood us well.  But they don’t.  Even those who love us get us wrong  They tell us who we are but leave things out.  They claim to know what we need, but forget to ask us properly first.  They can’t understand what we feel – and sometimes, we’re unable to tell them, because we don’t really understand it ourselves.  That’s where books come in.  They explain us to ourselves and to others, and make us feel less strange, less isolated and less alone.  We might have lots of good friends, but even with the best friends in the world, there are things that no one quite gets.  That’s the moment to turn to books.  They are friends waiting for us any time we want them, and they will always speak honestly to us about what really matters.  They are the perfect cure for loneliness.  They can be our very closest friends. 

Yours,

Alain

Alain de Botton in A Velocity of Being:  Letters to a Young Reader edited by Maria Popova and Claudia Bedrick

Comments are welcome!

Pearls from artists* # 349

Ahmedabad, India

Ahmedabad, India

*an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.

India presents to the visitor an overwhelmingly visual impression.  It is beautiful, colorful, sensuous.  It is captivating and intriguing, repugnant and puzzling.  It combines the intimacy and familiarity of English four o’clock tea with the dazzling foreignness of carpisoned elephants or vast crowds bathing in the Ganga during an eclipse.  India’s display of multi-armed images, it’s processions and pilgrimages, it’s beggars and kings, it’s street life and markets, it’s diversity of peoples – all appear to the eye in a kaleidoscope of images.  Much that is removed from public view in the modern West and taken into the privacy of rest homes, asylums, and institutions is open and visible in the life of an Indian city or village.  The elderly, the infirm, the dead awaiting cremation – these sights, while they may have been expunged from the childhood palace of the Buddha, are not isolated from the public eye in India.  Rather, they are present daily in the visible world in which Hindus, and those who visit India, move in the course of ordinary activities. In India, one sees everything.  One sees people at work and at prayer; one sees plump, well-endowed merchants, simple renouncers, fraudulent “holy” men, frail widows, and emaciated lepers; one sees the festival procession, the marriage procession, and the funeral procession.  Whatever Hindus affirm of the meaning of life, death, and suffering, they affirm with their eyes wide open.

Diana L. Eck in Darsan:  Seeing the Diving Image in India

Comments are welcome!

 

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