| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Mirror of the Sea by Joseph Conrad: perpetually rushing off to Paris to interview in the interests of
the cause - POR EL REY! For she was a Carlist, and of Basque blood
at that, with something of a lioness in the expression of her
courageous face (especially when she let her hair down), and with
the volatile little soul of a sparrow dressed in fine Parisian
feathers, which had the trick of coming off disconcertingly at
unexpected moments.
But her imitations of a Parisian personage, very highly placed
indeed, as she represented him standing in the corner of a room
with his face to the wall, rubbing the back of his head and moaning
helplessly, "Rita, you are the death of me!" were enough to make
The Mirror of the Sea |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Rig Veda: strength, undecaying.
14 In the sky's borders hath she shone in splendour: the Goddess
hath
thrown off the veil of darkness.
Awakening the world with purple horses, on her well-harnessed
chariot
Dawn approaches.
15 Bringing all life-sustaining blessings with her, showing
herself
she sends forth brilliant lustre.
Last of the countless mornings that have vanished, first of
The Rig Veda |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from De Profundis by Oscar Wilde: They are really channels for the transmission, adequate or
inadequate, of sense impressions. It is in the brain that the
poppy is red, that the apple is odorous, that the skylark sings.
Of late I have been studying with diligence the four prose poems
about Christ. At Christmas I managed to get hold of a Greek
Testament, and every morning, after I had cleaned my cell and
polished my tins, I read a little of the Gospels, a dozen verses
taken by chance anywhere. It is a delightful way of opening the
day. Every one, even in a turbulent, ill-disciplined life, should
do the same. Endless repetition, in and out of season, has spoiled
for us the freshness, the naivete, the simple romantic charm of the
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