It was a story of someone writing something wonderful, and someone else coming along, reading it, and feeling impelled to write something even more wonderful.
Yes, and we humans do that (feeling impelled to do something more) with so many of our actions, be they writing, creating, feeling, thinking. We need each other.
Profound stuff. I have been thinking about it all day. We're all connected.
Somewhat related, the word "yoga" comes from the word "yoke" which means connection, one-ness, wholeness. It refers to the practice of pulling mind/body/spirit together, but there's a larger meaning too I now realize, about the connectedness of all of humanity. No man is an island. Its hard not to think of art as an individual/personal endeavor, but I like this alternative perspective even more. Lots to think about.
We all owe @Ruchita_Ganurkar a round of applause for scouting yet another treasure. This was delightful. I’m particularly happy to have the word "gazofilacio" in my vocabulary now.
The Italians have a word for the store of poems you have in your head: a gazofilacio. To the English ear it might sound like an inadvisable amatory practice involving gasoline, but in its original language it actually means a treasure chamber of the mind. The poems I remember are the milestones marking the journey of my life. And unlike paintings, sculptures or passages of great music, they do not outstrip the scope of memory, but are the actual thing, incarnate.
My gazofilacio is my story, my purpose, my life. I'm already sad that it's going to die when I die, which is another way of saying: I’m happy to be alive, or, in the words of Walt Whitman: “I am large, I contain multitudes.”
The Italians have a word for the store of poems you have in your head: a gazofilacio. To the English ear it might sound like an inadvisable amatory practice involving gasoline, but in its original language it actually means a treasure chamber of the mind.
A few times while reading this I almost bailed, but the author had a quirky way of coaxing me along. He describes poets as “verbal time-wasters” dressed in baggy khaki drills, soft desert boots, a long scarf, carrying an armful of books by Ezra Pound. When I was a kid, there was a real romanticism concerning “the starving artist.” It was behind my lifelong desire to visit Paris. Which ended up being everything I imagined it to be.
Yes, and we humans do that (feeling impelled to do something more) with so many of our actions, be they writing, creating, feeling, thinking. We need each other.
Profound stuff. I have been thinking about it all day. We're all connected.
Somewhat related, the word "yoga" comes from the word "yoke" which means connection, one-ness, wholeness. It refers to the practice of pulling mind/body/spirit together, but there's a larger meaning too I now realize, about the connectedness of all of humanity. No man is an island. Its hard not to think of art as an individual/personal endeavor, but I like this alternative perspective even more. Lots to think about.
We all owe @Ruchita_Ganurkar a round of applause for scouting yet another treasure. This was delightful. I’m particularly happy to have the word "gazofilacio" in my vocabulary now.
My gazofilacio is my story, my purpose, my life. I'm already sad that it's going to die when I die, which is another way of saying: I’m happy to be alive, or, in the words of Walt Whitman: “I am large, I contain multitudes.”
Love gazofilacio - the idea of a treasure chamber in my mind filled with poetry! Beautiful image.
A few times while reading this I almost bailed, but the author had a quirky way of coaxing me along. He describes poets as “verbal time-wasters” dressed in baggy khaki drills, soft desert boots, a long scarf, carrying an armful of books by Ezra Pound. When I was a kid, there was a real romanticism concerning “the starving artist.” It was behind my lifelong desire to visit Paris. Which ended up being everything I imagined it to be.