August Rodin – Le Secret
These tumultuous times it takes a leap of imagination and ingenuity to trust in hope, which has frequently been my resort during past difficulties. Hope is assumed to have remained in the jar after Pandora released its darkness. The conflicting interpretations of hope around this myth are fascinating. Try relating darkness and hope to the psycho-dynamic phenomenon of projection. In what we call life, both darkness and hope circle around nothingness. We suffer the periods of dense darkness in hope of the ever-recurring creative energy of spring – the spirit I dance to in my lucid dreaming.
While natural, our expectations are necessarily blind and hampered by frustrating circumstances. In the wake of two stressful years, the hope that my nearly 100 year old dad would leave me the small fund he legally owed me was buried with him. Still, my yearning for a little more creative freedom is well alive.
There was a comical element to these last summer/autumn months, when I was challenged by one thing after another that needed repairing around my home. I tend to be inventive at fixing things myself, but this time I had to rely on experts. Thankfully I found competent, honest and warmhearted people and the problems 
were solved at reasonable costs. In fact, every problem solved … cementing dangerous steps, replacing old iron guttering, massive clearing of garden overgrowth, sorting a blocked man-hole … felt like a heroic victory. You should have seen me stirring the shit in the manhole with a long iron rod. I kept on for hours since it has worked once before, many years ago. I spare you the hilarious details. In the end I called in the experts. Craftspeople who know their job have my admiration. Societies couldn’t function without them.
To me, obstructions have a symbolic significance in relation to my physical and psychic state, that is when I look at the environment I depend on as extension of my body/mind.
And, of course, the presently depressing and equally hilarious world of politics that leaves many of us speechless seep seamlessly into personal anxieties. At one point, I spontaneously popped into a surgery (unfrequented for decades) to have a heart and blood test, and I even got myself a blood pressure gadget. All is well, a relief, despite my stubborn habits of smoking roll-ups and enjoying red wine (in moderation, to keep me grounded.)
The Seed – Silvia Pastore
Hope is my coin once more. Course of Mirrors, I’ve been told, would make a great film or TV series. Useful contacts to this effect are welcome. A few more reviews, posted where the book is listed on Amazon, Troubadour, Goodreads or Waterstones could spark sales and bring funds for marketing. Since I’m totally incapable of selling my lace, I appreciate any encouragement and support.
The soul guides that dream my myth were given full reign in my first novel – #courseofmirrors https://twitter.com/mushkilgusha
My desire to publish the sequel, ‘Shapers,’ next year, made me explore financial support through: https://www.patreon.com/user?u=10520241 I’m thrilled to have attracted a few Patrons. What consoles are flashes of beauty that stimulate the writing of Haiku, like this week …
can it be a cheat
to gift a street musician
a red autumn leaf ?
While parking in town, a beautiful plane leaf dropped on my car roof, in rhyme with the voice of the regular street musician. The leaf ended in his guitar case. I received a huge smile.
HOPE … by Emily Dickinson
“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –
And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
And sore must be the storm –
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm –
I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
And on the strangest Sea –
Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me.
Further: – Exploring once more the myth of Pandora, I found a chiming C G Jung reference here – one third down the page of: https://symbolreader.net/2015/01/11/the-guilt-of-prometheus-and-pandoras-gifts/ Wonderful site, worth exploring.
Re: The paintings of Silvia Pastore – I love them. Some years ago purchased usage of ‘The Magician’ (left) as cover for Course of Mirrors.
When my then publisher didn’t share my choice, I dropped the idea and ended up using one of my photographs, taken at the Atlantic in Morocco . I may however use The Magician for a future poetry collection.
Course of Mirrors 
As they say “Hope burns eternal.” However, I think the catch is that we have to make the effort to put our best foot forward to make that step to accomplish our endeavor… as you are doing. Great job!
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Thank you, Gwynn. I’ll keep doing the best with what I have. Just wish I could do more to support and inspire the many disheartened and dispossessed people in the world. Should I win the lottery I’d start community projects. I’ve been good at that in the past. Then again, circumstances and age force me to look after myself.
I hope all is well with you and yours. Can’t see any new postings on your website. ☼
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As they joke about… “I have fallen and can’t get up!” I just have lost my marbles and just can’t find something to write about. If I did write, I think I would simply scream and yell about the violence and the anger taking place in the world… but I don’t want to become one of them. I want to find the joy, love, and hope… or a laugh. I don’t want to do my two year old tantrum on my blog. I need something wonderful to write about… or something funny! How do you keep your inspiration going?
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Gwynn, I hear you, perfectly … tough to witness what’s going on.
Up and down here, and yet … That bird sings the tune without the words – And never stops – at all – also applies.
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My memory runs rings around me. I posted a comment here but WordPress asks me to recall passwords. …Anyway.I just said you sound stronger. Right now Pandora’s box for me is dead empty. Even hope flits off when belief dies! Thinking of you!
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Thanks you. Beliefs are deep and don’t die, transform, maybe, while attitudes change with circumstances and can shift easily. Don’t give up dear Philippa. I think many of us are battered by what happens the world over. Trends will swing about for a while. Please keep writing ☼
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As always, eclectic, witty and, almost literally, charming!
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Thank you, David.
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Hope is the cordial of the human heart and I endeavour to cherish it as well as I can.
These are words by Robert Burns.
When packing up my recently deceased Mother’s personal items, our family came to find these words scratched out on a small piece of paper.
As a young widowed mother of six, there seemed little time for sentiment nor personal thought. Time was best taken up by attending to the needs of the family.
We still wonder about this small piece.
Mum perhaps realised the qualities of hope and the futile efforts we go to in attempting to embrace it.
Perhaps we will never understand hope Ashen?
B
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What a wondrous note to find among your mother’s belongings.
I guess you’re right; hope can’t be grasped, nor understood. It’s more like a blank stage inviting the comic/tragic spectacles of our imagination. Still, it’s an open space we can cherish, for its freedom, even though if it seems out of reach.
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Like a ” Murakami” novel. Always half way there.
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🙂 quite
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Memories of your home, that you opened to me, stirred strong as I read. Rodin’s “The Secret” as an opening illustration is perfect and also reflects – for me – a prayerful posture.
Drawing circles of light around you and your work.
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Hello, Anna, thanks for your visit. A lovely surprise. And you have a blog, with a story up, chapters I must now slowly explore. Best joy with your writing. And as you quoted:
… Let the beauty we love be what we do. Rūmī …
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What a lovely haiku, captures a moment and extends it beautifully – Hope, yes, like that, and the way you’ve moved through the stages of it.
The downsides of being a home-owner, of course, are the time-consuming and surprisingly specialised skills needed to upkeep it. Lucky you to find some reliable craftspeople. They’re a scarce breed. Do like the positive undercurrent you’ve created through these waves of testing times.
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I’m happy you like the haiku, Cath.
Re: craftspeople – last year my trust was abused – honest ones have pride in their work and are indeed a scarce breed these days.
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Reblogged this on lampmagician.
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