IDLEGLORY BLOG

photography by sakura love

Under a hard Season, fired up by the Sun
Languishes man, languishes the flock and burns the pine
We hear the cuckoo’s voice; then sweet songs of the turtledove and finch are heard.
Soft breezes stir the air… but threatening north wind sweeps them suddenly aside.
The shepherd trembles, fearing violent storms and his fate.
The fear of lightning and fierce thunder
Robs his tired limbs of rest
As gnats and flies buzz furiously around.
Alas, his fears were justified
The Heavens thunders and roar and majestically
Cuts the head off the wheat and damages the grain.
Vivaldi’s Four Seasons – Summer

Sonata For Jukebox: An Autobiography Of My Ears by Geoffrey O’Brien

Hearing, after all, is in the first place involuntary.

The baby on the rug (the listener I once was) soaks up these surrounding ambient sounds. As he absorbs them he changes them. Kitchen murmur of adults, wind raking trees radio jingle buzz, noon siren, rumble of car rounding a bend: its is a river of sound he does not so much hear as inhabit.

“It’s an odd life we live in Los Angeles, a city that uses freeways and wide boulevards to divide people by race and class. We spend most of our time encased in metal and glass; in our homes, our cars, at work.

Unlike any real city, we only walk where “it’s safe”-those outdoor malls and ersatz city blocks we’ve created to feel like we’re still part of humanity, if only humanity could afford to shop where we do…

We no longer truly feel the touch of strangers as we brush past them on the street.”

Sourced from an interview with director Paul Haggis about the film CRASH:

A great American poet once wrote, “Make the most of yourself, for that is all there is of you.”

“He had to be a genius or nothing, and since he couldn’t be creative he turned to bohemianism, eccentricity, social versatility, conquests.”
Allan Ginsberg

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“The Greeks were engaged in a search for perfection. They believed that certain geometric ratios and certain music intervals resonated with the cosmic order and were in tune with the heavens.”(Gardner’s Art Through the Ages)

“…according to him, human language is a wretched device hiding and corrupting the purity of thought and is in constant danger of disintegration through the decay of metaphors.”

Friedrich Max Muller