Wk 5, Sem 1, Yr 3
Thought I'd throw in a slightly tweaked 'thought ramble' from my commonplace book this week.
I haven't travelled on public transport in quite a while, and upon ascending my platform I've just realised how grimy and filthy the seats are. My mind immediately flashes back to Shakespeare - everything seems to draw me back to him these days. 'I'm sure in the Renaissance the seats were much cleaner - simply shining with fresh lacquer" i thought.
Really, who am I kidding?
However, I do know the very reason why , for a split second my cranium did entertain this thought.
It is the sheer beauty and purity of the renaissance poems. They are rid of all the heavy weights and stresses that hang off everything in our time. Innocence has been lost; beauty is imposed upon by an ashy mist and eyes are blinded. The world sees through a dark immovable mesh that collects filth at any available opportunity. How can we compare love to the times of the renaissance? The only material we have to do so are these intricate multi-tiered works of poetic art describing any possible human emotion whilst likening it to - the running antelope floating through the air and gently bouncing off the dew. There. I suck. Perfect example of the inability to create beauty.
If we cannot create beauty as they did, how can we love as they did? How can a heart heavy with material possessions, lies, tax evasions, parking tickets and traffic jams give itself wholeheartedly to another? Naked bodies flashed in front of our faces every day, everywhere we look - SEX! Innocence, what does it mean? How many of us rememeber? What does it feel like? Innocence is like the sneakiest little leprechaun you will ever find. You're born with it in your possession - but once you let it out of your sight - forget it. There ain't no going back. Innocence is lost and with it - love.
Hermia and Lysander - Innocent lovers. However after the dream, I cannot and do not believe that they will love as freely as before. There will forever be that doubt, guilt or jealousy behind their minds.
Have I just written the most cynical LJ entry? Possibly. So be it.
Public Transport obviously solves all questions about love.
I haven't travelled on public transport in quite a while, and upon ascending my platform I've just realised how grimy and filthy the seats are. My mind immediately flashes back to Shakespeare - everything seems to draw me back to him these days. 'I'm sure in the Renaissance the seats were much cleaner - simply shining with fresh lacquer" i thought.
Really, who am I kidding?
However, I do know the very reason why , for a split second my cranium did entertain this thought.
It is the sheer beauty and purity of the renaissance poems. They are rid of all the heavy weights and stresses that hang off everything in our time. Innocence has been lost; beauty is imposed upon by an ashy mist and eyes are blinded. The world sees through a dark immovable mesh that collects filth at any available opportunity. How can we compare love to the times of the renaissance? The only material we have to do so are these intricate multi-tiered works of poetic art describing any possible human emotion whilst likening it to - the running antelope floating through the air and gently bouncing off the dew. There. I suck. Perfect example of the inability to create beauty.
If we cannot create beauty as they did, how can we love as they did? How can a heart heavy with material possessions, lies, tax evasions, parking tickets and traffic jams give itself wholeheartedly to another? Naked bodies flashed in front of our faces every day, everywhere we look - SEX! Innocence, what does it mean? How many of us rememeber? What does it feel like? Innocence is like the sneakiest little leprechaun you will ever find. You're born with it in your possession - but once you let it out of your sight - forget it. There ain't no going back. Innocence is lost and with it - love.
Hermia and Lysander - Innocent lovers. However after the dream, I cannot and do not believe that they will love as freely as before. There will forever be that doubt, guilt or jealousy behind their minds.
Have I just written the most cynical LJ entry? Possibly. So be it.
Public Transport obviously solves all questions about love.