Funny how things work out, eh?
Last week I looked at my copy of this book, sitting as it does in a fine spot in the playroom, and thought: "It'd be good to put that into truly spacious". The current machine blabla left that as an unrealised impulse.
A few moments ago, I happened by
The Blog of Henry David Thoreau, as I do, once in a blue moon.
Today's quote there, from October 9, 1857, is one which I made a little video around, maybe ten years ago, when I was learning how to edit with clunky ole 'Premiere', on computers which crashed A Lot.
I liked showing the printed words, and speaking them simultaneously, amidst all kinds of lovely images grabbed onto a tiny Sony camera, from outside the now-closed Lux, in Hoxton Square.
Love at first go, between me and the digital video recorder. Not so much between me and the unwieldy computing involved then, though... I loved the possibilities I glimpsed in the medium. And I did pursue it as a mode of expression, for a while and with some gusto. I ran out of steam around it all, somewhere between then and now, but this little Thoreau synchro-nicety reminds me again of video-making joys.
My new machine should be perfectly capable of assisting me to womanifest little vids. Whoooop. And I still have the lovable little Sony I bought, too...Perhaps vids can be made visible here, too, now. With evolved technotoys at my disposal.
"No End to the Possibilities".... (as my father used to say)...
So, what did Thoreau say, 149 years ago, which inspired Eliot Porter to make the book that was published in the year I was born, and which I then found decades later, in a thrift-shop? (And just how many synchronous twists can there be in one story?)
He said - and I quote now from 'The Blog of Henry David Thoreau', though I could have quoted direct from
"In Wildness Is The Preservation Of The World":
"It has come to this, — that the lover of art is one, and the lover of nature another, though true art is but the expression of our love of nature. It is monstrous when one cares but little about trees but much about Corinthian columns, and yet this is exceedingly common."
In my vid, I juxtaposed that with a Rumi snippet:
"Let the beauty we love be what we do.
There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground."
And those words (or the ones that got translated into those, by Coleman Barks) were written between 1207 and 1244.
A good while ago.
Here are some trees for us
to practise being uncommon lovers with, now, too.
So to speak.
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ps - my hearty thanks to Yolie (Hand and Spirit Studio) and Anam (Oh to Sit Still) who both recently said sweet things about my work on their blogs. And to dear Lani who made a whole post for me! For links, please see sidebar. I'm all linked out for the moment, overhere.