Dinesh's photos with the keyword: Ground for Sculptures

www.groundsforsculpture.org

www.groundsforsculpture.org

www.groundsforsculpture.org

We have to make choices, Heidegger argued, without any certainty as to their outcomes -- the only thing we can be certain of is that we face a life of guilt and anxiety. The Scream (1893), by the Norwegian painter Edward Munch powerfully expresses the artist’s anxiety and pessimism, aused by the confusion and loneliness of existence.

No metaphor, remember, can express A real historical unhappiness; Your tears have value if they make us gay; O Happy Grief! And all sad verse can say. ~ Auden en.wikipedia.org/wiki/W._H._Auden

Internal and external reality exist on a continuum. What happens and how you understand it to have happened and how you respond to it’s happening are usually linked, but no one is predictive of others. If reality itself is often a relative thing, and the self is n a state of permanent flux, the passage from slight mood to extreme mood is a glissando. Illness, the, is an extreme state of emotion, and one might reasonably describe emotion as a mile form of illness. If we all felt up and great (but not delusionally manic) all the time, we could get more done and might have a happier time on earth, but that idea is creepy and terrifying (though, of course, if we felt up and great all the time we might forget all about creepiness and terror).

One day a student asked Taiga, “What is the most difficult part of painting?” Taiga answered, “The part of the paper where nothing is painted is the most difficult.” ~ Zen Proverb

www.goodreads.com/book/show/21946384-forebears HBM -- Messrs. IP Members

. . . He is a middle-aged man who has ‘seen much, read much, and retained much’, a professional man of experience, a doctor, a military man, an artist, or a Don Juan. He has reached the time of life when, according to a respectful and comfortable myth, a man is freed from the passions and considers with an indulgent clear sightedness those he has experienced. His heart is calm, like the night. He tells this story with detachment. If it has caused him suffering, he has made honey from this suffering. He looks back upon it and considers it as it really was, that is, sub specie aeternitatis’. (viewed in relation to the eternal; in a universal perspective.) There was difficulty to be sure, but this difficulty ended long ago; the actors are dead or married or comforted. Thus, the adventure was a brief disturbance which is over with. It is told from the viewpoint of experience and wisdom; it is listened to from the viewpoint of order. Order triumphs, order is everywhere; it contemplates an old disorder as if the still waters of a summer day have preserved the memory of the ripples which have run through it. Moreover, had there this disturbance? The evocation of an abrupt change would frighten this bourgeois society. Neither the general nor the doctor confides his recollections in the raw state; there are experiences from which they have extracted the quintessence, and they warn us, from the moment they start talking, that their tale has a moral. Besides, the story is explanatory; it aims at producing a psychological law on the basis of this example. . . 126

Just five and thirty years ago I walked alone on earth That callous carefree creature A bachelor from birth No thrill of premonition no tingling of the spine foreshadowed the appearance of my only valentine I had no thought of courtship at that far distant date, one girl was like another so why then concentrate. One pearl was like another to this self-centered swine who was surfeited with sameness and knew no valentine. Just five and thirty years ago I danced with mind astray and suddenly that sameness was forever swept away. I hardly heard the music, I couldn't taste the wine for lovely as a legend I saw my valentine. Oh lovely as a legend or a silver birch in spring and haunting as the twilight song that hidden thrushes sing. How I elbowed through the dancers as they stood in penguin line How I dodged among the dancers as I sought my valentine . The orchestra played waltzes, blank faces swirled about I had no foot for waltzes, so we sat the waltzes out. Came the tunes of Kern and Gershwin, but I liked the terrace fine. Till the band played, Auld Lang Syne I wooed my valentine. Just five and thirty years ago I walked the earth alone the shortest five and thirty years that earth has ever known. When tonight she is beside me My fairest valentine, my rarest valentine, Through five and thirty precious years My own true valentine. "To my Valentine" ~ Ogden Nash (From Readers Digest - 1960s) quoted by Jenny Ko Gyi (Myanmar - Burma)

I do nothing, granted. But I see the hours pass -- which is better than trying to fill them ~ E. M. Cioran