June 1, 2011

Springtime People

Amoureux de Vence, by Marc Chagall

We are no longer innocent; but we must make every effort to become primitive so that we can begin again each time, and from our hearts. We must become springtime people in order to find the summer, whose greatness we must herald.

Early Journals


  1. I am ruing the gentle irony of realizing that it is only in the Autumn of my life (and surely I am not the only one) that I come to appreciate the importance of becoming 'springtime people' in order to find the summer and herald its greatness.

    Lorenzo (for some reason I can only post comments as Anonymous)

  2. lorenzo - brilliant observation and one i can share in full!! steven

  3. Amen to you two -- why is it that youth is squandered on the young? And Ruth, sorry to hear about your scattered circumstance, though it is clear here how breeches in our accumulated walls of routine can sometimes let a sweet wind in. I remember going out in the night when Hurricane Jeanne passed over Florida in 2004, all power out for hundreds of miles, just the raw element of darkness and wind,, uncivilized, wild to the sky: How wonderful it was. Until the yogurt in the fridge spoiled..- Brendan

  4. Thanks, Brendan.

    It is a privilege to be exposed to the elements that break open our routine and let in fresh breezes. It is also a privilege to get older, having lived through these experiences that do that, so that we learn to live this way, to get back to our primitive selves.

  5. I also believe that there's no age to find or feel love. Your comments reminded me a beautiful YEATS' poem which talks about love and the nostalgie of getting old:

    "When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
    And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
    And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
    Your eyes had once, and of their shadow deep";
    No matter how old we are there'll always be unpredictable and reckless hurricanes which will pass through, either near or far. There'll always be a mistery, the power of love and emotional hearts who never cease to search for the meaning of life.

  6. i think i'll come back to this one time and time again. it sings to me hope, absolution.



"Everything is blooming most recklessly; if it were voices instead of colors, there would be an unbelievable shrieking into the heart of the night."

~ Rainer Maria Rilke

Go ahead, bloom recklessly!