Swimming in the Dark Ink

Primordium

"The whole of Le Cirque des Re'ves is formed by series of circles.  Perhaps it is a tribute to the origin of the word "circus," deriving from the Greek kirkos meaning circle, or ring.  There are many such nods to the phenomenon of the circus in a historical sense, though it is hardly a traditional circus.  Rather than a single tent with rings enclosed within, this circus contains clusters of tents like  pyramids, some large and others quite small.  They are set within circular paths, contained within a circular fence.  Looping and continuous.

-Friedrick Thiessen, 1892

A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.

- Oscar Wilde, 1888

(And so, Part I of The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern begins...)

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I am captivated by this book already.  It contains so many lines, so many singular words so much that strikes chords inside of me... individual chords that barely begin to vibrate, to quiver in anticipation of the inspiring words that will spill from my pen later.  Already I've been jotting those words and phrases into my notebook.  There is no music yet, but it is coming - these chords will keep trembling and eventually lend their voices to sweet harmonic inspiration -- and I can't wait to set it down in inky black words, lined up properly, one after another.  

It may be quite a fantastic tale.  It may lend itself to another essay about my own darkness, and how I am chasing it with glee; or perhaps it will weave itself into some dark poem that beats with a life and rhythm all it's own.  All I know is that for now, this reading -- this soaking up of the dark rich imagery and language -- is good for me. 

So very good for the ink in my veins.  

This I need.

Kindle the Fire

“The instruction we find in books is like fire. We fetch it from our neighbours, kindle it at home, ommunicate it to others, and it becomes the property of all.”

-Voltaire

Let Me Find Myself in Darkness

An amazing quote that found me today:

"Let me guide myself with the blue,
forked torch of this flower
down the darker and darker stairs,
where blue is darkened on blueness
even where Persephone goes, just now,
from the frosted September
to the sightless realm where darkness is
awake upon the dark ".

-DH Lawrence, Bavarian Gentians (1932)

Isn't it lovely?

Slipping Through Doorways

"Not knowing when
the dawn will come
I open every door."

- Emily Dickenson

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Strange things blow in

through my window

on the wings

of the night wind

and I don't worry 

about my destiny.

- Carl Sandburg

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"Poetry is the opening

and closing of a door, 

leaving those who look
through to guess

about what is seen
during the moment.

- Carl Sandburg

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"I cannot sleep for dreaming; 

I cannot dream but I wake 

and walk about the house

as though I'd find you

coming through some door."

- Arthur Miller

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"There was a door

to which I found no key:

There was the veil
through which I might not see."

- Omar Khayyam

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"Listen;

there's a hell of

a good universe

next door: 

let's go."

- e.e. cummings

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There's something enchanted about a door, something fantastic about a window. I see them everywhere, and want to slip through them to whatever lies beyond. I am very much a dreamer and the little girl inside me believes there are portals everywhere. I can be Alice, turning the key in a very small door, or laying her hand against a looking glass, and stealing into Wonderland. I suppose this means that I long to escape, and that might make me seem an unhappy sort.

In reality however, that is far from true.

 

I have a life full of happiness(es) as well as sorrows. I thrive on the intensity of my friendships and relationships; they give me reason to put pen to paper, or to craft something of beauty from glass, wire, ribbon or stones. I can't deny though, that I've always dreamed of cracks in my world, of holes in the shadows where I might sneak through into a place of glowing, winged fairies or french-speaking blackbirds, or worlds built of clockwork and steam.

 

I do long for escape. I've done it for decades -- chasing Alice down the rabbit hole, and into those unexplored spaces between the pages of my favorite books. There is in me, a healthy imagination; and tucked away in one of the pockets of my little girl self is the indisputable belief that I can fly.

 

So if you dream along with me of slipping through doorways, pick one and we'll turn the knob...

Come away with me and we'll fly...