There was an atmosphere that was almost holy…

On Monday night, hours after Daniel Day-Lewis received his eighth Golden Globe nomination, he arrived at the stately Harold Pratt House on Park Avenue to toast the New York premiere of the movie that had earned him the nod, “Phantom Thread,” in which he portrays the renowned British dressmaker Reynolds Woodcock…

He strode onto the red carpet at 10:30 p.m., where dozens of photographers and reporters had camped out. He posed with his co-stars Lesley Manville and Vicky Krieps, and the film’s director, Paul Thomas Anderson. Then he turned around and promptly disappeared, without taking a single question. It appears that Mr. Day-Lewis, the only performer to win three Academy Awards in the best actor category, was not kidding when he announced in June that he would be retiring after this film.

The film has a meditative quality that the actors found deeply moving…“The set was so quiet and almost spiritual in a way. There was an atmosphere that was almost holy” said Vicky Krieps.

Valeriya Safronov, from Daniel Day-Lewis Makes an Appearance at His Own Film Party (The New York Times, Dec. 12, 2017)

Sunday Morning

The important thing is not the finding, it is the seeking, it is the devotion with which one spins the wheel of prayer and scripture, discovering the truth little by little. If this machine gave you the truth immediately, you would not recognize it. If this machine gave you the truth immediately, you would not recognize it, because your heart would not have been purified by the long quest…No, the Book must be murmured day after day in a little ghetto hovel where you learn to lean forward and keep your arms tight against your hips so there will be as little space as possible between the hand that holds the Book and the hand that turns the pages. And if you moisten your fingers, you must raise them vertically to your lips, as if nibbling unleavened bread, and drop no crumb. The word must be eaten very slowly. It must melt on the tongue before you can dissolve it and reorder it. And take care not to slobber it onto your caftan. If even a single letter is lost, the thread that is about to link you with the higher sefirot is broken.

~ Umberto Eco, Foucault’s Pendulum (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, Mar 5, 2007)


Notes: Post inspiration from Beth @ Alive on All Channels. Photo: Patty Maher, The Storm.

Driving I-95 N. ‘Tis the Season.

~6:00 pm on the dashboard clock.  Sigh. 14 hours. And It ain’t over. ‘Tis the Season. For office holiday parties.

It’s a short drive to the event, from Work, from the office, to a suburban restaurant. The car edges forward, held back by rush hour traffic, the stop and go, and a sea of red tail lights lighting up the darkness.

How does one makes sense of it? The 360° turn. The jackknife. The Man who leaves the at-home comfort, the warm cocoon of his desk at work, to this. From Krishnamurti’s You are the Everything. To…You are something far less than that.

Irreconcilable differences.

The small room is crowded.  An introvert’s haunted house. Small talk, tight spaces, no obvious way out.

Tracy Chapman’s Fast Car…You got a fast car – I got a plan to get us out of here.

The small talk. The dread. The ever-present doom that suffocates the mind, that blackens all things. [Read more…]

TGIF: Perfect Symphony

It’s been a long day

In our marginal existence,

what else is there but this voice within us,

this great weirdness we are always leaning forward to listen to?

Mary Ruefle, Someone Reading a Book Is a Sign of Order in the World


Notes:

Lightly Child, Lightly.

What we are trying in these discussions, these talks here, is to see if we cannot radically bring about a transformation of the mind. Not accept things as they are. But to understand it, to go into it, to examine it, to give your heart and your mind with everything that you have to find out a way of living differently.  But that depends on you and not somebody else. Because in this there is no teacher, there is no pupil, there’s no leader, there’s no guru, there’s no master, no savior. You yourself are the teacher and the pupil, you are the master, you are the guru, you are the Leader. You are the Everything. And, to understand, is to transform what is.

You have to be a light to yourself …and not follow the light of your professor, the psychiatrist, psychologist or the light of Jesus or the light of the Buddha. You have to be a light to yourself, in a world that is utterly becoming dark.

Jiddu Krishnamurti, (1895-1986) from his videos titled Be a light to yourself and You Have to be a “light” for Yourself


Notes:

  • Inspired by another quote by Krishnamurti: ““The mind must be utterly silent. Not asking, not hoping for experience. It must be completely still. Only then is there a possibility of that light which will dispel our darkness.”
  • Image via Inner Traditions
  • Prior “Lightly child, lightly” Posts? Connect here.
  • Post Title & Inspiration: Aldous Huxley: “It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.”

Guess.What.Day.It.Is?


Notes:

Santa Lollapalooza

glasgow,charity,run,santa Claus

More than 8,000 people take part in Glasgow’s annual Santa Dash, a 5-kilometer (3.1-mile) run that raises money for charities in Scotland. (Jeff J. Mitchell, Getty Images, wsj.com Dec 10, 2017)

I’m glad. Oh, I’m so glad.

Table of Contents from: Be Glad You’re Neurotic” by Louis E. Bisch. (1946, original copyright 1936)

“From my admittedly low effort research, Be Glad You’re Neurotic is an example of early pop psychology publications. Bisch wants everyone to embrace their inner crazy, the idea that this is what makes you a better human (ie. superior). Bottom line: You can cure yourself by just embracing your inner freak.” By Mary Kelly, December, 7, 2017


Source: Awful library books (via this isn’t happiness)

Monday Morning Wake-Up Call

Clara was always so gentle with me, soft knocks on my bedroom door, a hand just barely on my back as we walked, her voice always low with me, like speaking to someone ill who had just woken up. She once came to my room with a sack of clementines and asked me if I would like one. I didn’t know what a clementine was but I said yes. I always said yes. We sat in the living room and she showed me how to puncture the skin, tear back the peel, divide the sections out like a strange bloom. I ate one after another just so I could peel them again and again. (Did anyone else notice how citrus skin released a wet blast of oil with each pull?)…I kept my mouth full of citrus, rubbed the oil from the peels against my palms and wrists, and still every time I see a clementine I think of this moment, think of Clara.

~ Catherine Lacey, from “The Answers: A Novel


Photo: Haikudeck

%d bloggers like this: