William Blake,[1757– 1827].
Heretic or Prophetic?
It has been said that Blake "invented his God", he apparently saw a "Newtonian God", as a process of industrialisation that he disliked, but could not change.
In his paintings, as with his writings, he seems at times, to join the theological visions with the realities of his time.
How would Blake see life now? How would he depict his vision of God? Would his God hold a mono-fuselaged missile, or the would the dual-pointed compass still sit supreme? Or would Blakes` God choose a new instrument with which to measure and shape this world?
Just a few thoughts for a Sunday morning, which incidentally, here in the West of Britain, has started as a fine and sun-filled day, with just a few whispers of a breeze that are sending an early mist inwards from the coast. No doubt, as the sun rises and warms, the heat will sweep them aside, to show the blueness of space.
From Blakes` "Auguries Of Innocence".
To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.
Sunday, September 10, 2006
Posted byBlogItemURL> landsker at 12:42 am
Friday, September 01, 2006
Across the world, most people believe that the british live on an island near Europe.
Apparently, they are for the most part, English, and are polite and non-confrontational.
Then there are the Irish, who live nearby on another island, and are not completely like the British.
Now, of course, in reality, there are the Scottish, Irish and Welsh and English. Not forgetting that only a minority of the Irish are british, most of the Scots prefer independence, as do most of the Welsh.
The Welsh have no nuclear bombs or plans to build them, neither, as far as I know, do the the Irish , but the Sots do give home to a fleet of submarines. The English are anglo-saxon, the Scots are no... enough already!
Or in other words, even we brits don`t completely understand each other!
The fact that we are all islanders means we share the ocean, and its` ever present perils.
Between Arklow (Ireland), and Aberystwyth (Wales) there lies 90 or so miles of the Irish sea, a fast running and often stormy expanse of water.
So being Celts, the Irish and Welsh decided to have a race. We used to have wars, you know, but that was long ago. Now Ireland and Wales have a long tradition of trade and custom. So instead of a clash of warships, they decided on a row of a different kind.
Rowing boats! Small open craft of about 25 feet in length. Being Celts, the race is open to both men and women, some boats have male crews, and some have female crews. Some boats, and I`m told these are the most fun, carry both men and women.
This year the race was won by an Irish team, from Bantry Bay, in around 16 hours.
16 hours, it must however be said, of sweat, blister and ache. Of faith and wonder, belief, trust, spirit and endeavour.
The prizes are limited to a few bottles of champagne, and it really is just one of those events in which taking part is bigger than winning.
Posted byBlogItemURL> landsker at 2:02 am