embers

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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