Page Ninety-eight
Wednesday 8 September 2010 
Turners degrades
They’re here again, the embers. September, November, December. I burn. ~~ A fellow burner from long ago wanders into mind. One whose colors seem to reach from the canvas to touch us:
And when no hope was left inside on that starry, starry night, you took your life, as lovers often do. But I could have told you, Vincent, this world was never met for one as beautiful as you.
~~ don mclean
So grossly undervalued while he lived, Vincent’s paintings are now counted among the world’s greatest treasures. Yet another diabolical example of:
“… the uncanny grotesqueness of the irrational world of chance.”
~~ carl jung
Peter Barriman, great singer and writer of contemporary folk songs, has put Jung’s statement in very different terms, but meaning the exact same thing:
Fate is king, and fate’s a putz.
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