Friday, November 28, 2014

"Wear Your Love Like Heaven." ~Donovan

I am thankful for this year, strangely, exquisitely, so.  I love who has come into my life and love how some have left.  I want only those who wear love like heaven, for though that means many different things to many different people, I know that the people I invite into my life live with love. 
Why do we experience pain?  Why do some enter the faerytale?  I cannot tell you.  I know this, though, we are all connected by the red thread.  We give and thus, receive.  I sit with sunshine in my eyes today because I have art and poetry in my heart.  We can never understand why we are brought together.  I think, though, that all we can do is to be heavenly in our treatment of the hearts and muses in our lives.  We must wear our love like heaven.  I love that this new day is showing me so much.
I love this quote... it is a glimpse at how we are the only ones who can realize what we treasure and what is heavenly, no one else can tell us and this is perfect...

You may have noticed that the books you really love are bound together by a secret thread. You know very well what is the common quality that makes you love them, though you cannot put it into words: but most of your friends do not see it at all, and often wonder why, liking this, you should also like that. Again, you have stood before some landscape, which seems to embody what you have been looking for all your life; and then turned to the friend at your side who appears to be seeing what you saw -- but at the first words a gulf yawns between you, and you realise that this landscape means something totally different to him, that he is pursuing an alien vision and cares nothing for the ineffable suggestion by which you are transported. Even in your hobbies, has there not always been some secret attraction which the others are curiously ignorant of -- something, not to be identified with, but always on the verge of breaking through, the smell of cut wood in the workshop or the clap-clap of water against the boat's side? Are not all lifelong friendships born at the moment when at last you meet another human being who has some inkling (but faint and uncertain even in the best) of that something which you were born desiring, and which, beneath the flux of other desires and in all the momentary silences between the louder passions, night and day, year by year, from childhood to old age, you are looking for, watching for, listening for? You have never had it. All the things that have ever deeply possessed your soul have been but hints of it -- tantalising glimpses, promises never quite fulfilled, echoes that died away just as they caught your ear. But if it should really become manifest -- if there ever came an echo that did not die away but swelled into the sound itself -- you would know it. Beyond all possibility of doubt you would say "Here at last is the thing I was made for". We cannot tell each other about it. It is the secret signature of each soul, the incommunicable and unappeasable want, the thing we desired before we met our wives or made our friends or chose our work, and which we shall still desire on our deathbeds, when the mind no longer knows wife or friend or work. While we are, this is. If we lose this, we lose all. ~ C.S. Lewis The Problem of Pain
See me on facebook for the video that expresses more about wearing love like heaven.   
Thank-you red thread poet friend, forever and always.  Thank-you my beautiful circle of love.  Thank-you family for the compassion and strength.  Thank-you artists that are constantly giving to this wonderful, painful, world.
Grand Merci Artiste by Christopher Ryan
Grip the ferrule's steel my friend
Your canvas primed and near
As bristles on the belly bend
To weep such artful tears
For I delight in every shape you craft,
Your form in every shade
What muse demands my lines, you ask?
Every sketch you've ever made!

1 comment:

Jacqui said...

Beautiful sentiments indeed, thank you for sharing