The Four Elements and the Quinta Essentia

My paper presentation

As you already know I am working with the transmutation of Eliot's Four Quartets through our reading of them. One could argue that Eliot's words are not in need of purification or any sort of transmutation for that matter; however, I have realized that while this may be true, Eliot's words lie on the page meaningless until they are read, under which process transmutation (via interpretation, etc.) inevitably takes place. One cannot prevent this interpretation and addition of meaning when one reads a piece.

I also want to clarify that I am reading not Kenneth Grahame but Victor Graham. I am working with his article, "Proust's Alchemy," from which I am gleaning information on alchemy, helping to contributes to my musings on the idea of transmutation and/or purification.

Last post

The past few nights at work, I have found myself singing, loudly, passionately, but also absentmindedly. I'm not really listening to the music I'm making, or even consciously making it; rather, it's just a vent.
I usually do sing a lot, but never at work (obviously.) Last night I was cleaning the toilets and belting out some Guys & Dolls. It must have been really echoing through the office (as most bathrooms do) because Reid poked his head into the girls' bathroom and just smirked at me with funny eyes. I was sitting on the floor with the clorox beside me, a dripping rag, and the scrubby brush.
"Oh hi" I said nonchalantly, getting back to my scrubbing. Then his face came clearer to me, and I realized what I was doing. I was spewing these clamorous noises from my mouth, sitting on a dirty bathroom floor, and yet I was entirely absorbed in my mind. This may sound strange, but I believe I was experiencing some form of catharsis. For me, the music was just a way to release any sort of emotional expression. Never before have I felt that I am so haphazardly chasing endlessly escaping goals. Like John said earlier in the semester, I just need there to be more hours in the day. Rawr. I guess that's what Poldy might say if he were a stronger lion.

Today in Ulysses, we'll be discussing the final periodless episode, Penelope. As I have been reading it, I haven't been able to stop laughing because I just feel even more discombobulated and lost in a mire of chasing down thoughts that just melt into each other.

Anyhow, all I really wanted to say is that I truly admire those students who have children on top of everything else, and who still manage to get through college. I think Jennifer is a true model of someone so dedicated, so busy, and still so successful in class. By the way, her "I dreamed a dream" today was beautiful! I just closed my eyes and remembered every other time I have heard that song (a definite favorite.) It is such a moving song. I think it is important that Jennifer helped me to remember this song from other places, other times.

As the last bit of the semester is coming full circle, I now must try to "unweave, unwind, unravel" my mind. Only four papers to go, and two exams. Thanks to everyone in the class who has contributed wonderful content to the class via blogs and presentations. I always send interesting blogs on to my friend Anna who reads them and calls me about them. Anyhow, I think it's good to remember that this content goes out to the public, and we are not the only ones reading it! In some ways, you could say we are "nourishing the life (not too far from the yew tree) of significant soil."


Here's one song I've been humming around in my head (It's so dorky! and low-brow, but it's oh so fun):

When you see a guy reach for stars in the sky
You can bet that he's doing it for some doll.
When you spot a John waiting out in the rain
Chances are he's insane as only a John can be for a Jane.
When you meet a gent paying all kinds of rent
For a flat that could flatten the Taj Mahal.
Call it sad, call it funny.
But it's better than even money
That the guy's only doing it for some doll.
When you see a Joe saving have of his dough
You can bet there'll be mink in it for some doll.
When a bum buys wine like a bum can't afford
It's a cinch that the bum is under the thumb of some little broad.
When you meet a mug lately out of the jug
And he's still lifting platinum folderol
Call it hell, call it heaven
But it's probable twelve to seven
That the guy's only doing it for some doll.

When you see a sport and his cash has run short
Make a bet that he's banking it with some doll.
When a guy wears tails with the front gleaming white
Who the hell do you think he's tickling pink on Saturday night?
When a lazy slob takes a goody steady job,
And he smells from vitalis and barbasol.
Call it dumb, call it clever
Ah, but you can get odds forever
That the guy's only doing it for some doll
Some doll, some doll
The guy's only doing it for some doll.

222

Well I wrote down all the capital letters (in order) from my page and decoded them. Silly, I realize. But nonetheless, I enjoyed it:
ALL MT SA J MC J SOM SSOON DRV LMN TT BMP BTRRN MUMTS RWN MD PPPP WWW ACFS ME BG PHH TADAS

which I translate into:
All Montana saw J make J some soon drive lemons till the bump between mumps rowing mad papapapa will will will accost me. Beg. Phh! Tada!s

On a more "real" note: My page is full of music, song, full of "melodiotiosities." I also noticed inklings of Nabokov's seaside girls, "maidykins in undiform" and "those first girly stirs, with zitterings of flight released and twinglings of twitchbells in rondel after, with waverings that made shimmershake rather naightily all the duskcended airs and shylit beacongings from shehind hims back."
I also think of Tinkerbell with the shimmershake and twinglings.
"Evelings" in context seems to mean evenings, but it reminds me of Eve. At the top of my page it says, "in the beginning" which could potentially solidify the Eve reference. Also, "an argument follows" as if the apple has been eaten.

In the center of the page, Joyce talks about transformation, which reminds me a great deal of "met him pike hoses" from Ulysses, better known as metempsychosis, the transmigration of the soul.
The Bearded Mountain: I am intrigued, but entirely at a loss.
Lots of french as well on this page.
I see the image of a lighthouse in the "beaconings" or beckoning sweeps of light.
"Catastrophear" for some reason brings me to King Lear. also the obvious: catastrophe. Maybe the catastrophic end of Lear.
River Romps to Nursery: This reminds me of Anna Livia, Anna Liffey, slipping back into the river to resume the cycle, which would inevitably lead her back to a nursery.

For some reason, at the beginning of the semester, I disliked my page and wanted to switch. But the more and more I am familiar with the page, the better I like it.

And for anyone who was in the Nabokov class, the RAYNBOW page is 226.

Tomorrow is our group presentation! Get ready . . . it's going to be a gas.

Six Bardos

I'm working on my capstone paper currently, and I just wanted to thank Tyler for mentioning the bardo in class today. My paper deals with the process of arriving at "the still point" through the stages of life, which the concept of the bardos is really helping me to clarify!
I also called my dad, as he studies Buddhism, and he helped me out a bit.

Also . . . the other night at the filming of Finnegans Wake, Dr. Sexson asked me exactly what my job is. I photograph weddings. So this is primarily for Dr. Sexson, but here's what I do if you're curious. This is a wedding I photographed last summer up at Springhill Pavilion. And you would never know it but there was a crazy rainfall bordering on flash flood for about 10 minutes just before the wedding.
http://www.blubirdimages.com/showcase/GuttagAlbum1/

p.s. if you watch the book, you might want to mute the song!. i don't like it myself.

anima mundi

I found this really great article that deals with the anima mundi while working on my capstone paper. Thought I'd post it here for anyone interested.

http://www.goldensufi.org/a_animamundi.html


Anima Mundi, or the Worldsoul, from Thurneisser zum Thurn, Quinta Essentia, (Leipzig: 1574

Presentation Preview: Group 1

Rip the pants fart sound bite  Fart Noises sound bites

Box of Rain Video - sorry I had to remove the embedded version because I couldn't stand the fact that it just plays without permission.

Class Notes for sam

NOTES FOR SAM

“Turning” by Lynda Sexson produced by the BBC - available throughout England
Mythology as bedrock: the origin of all stories:
3 old women - 3 furies, 3 fates, frau Bauman, Schmidt, Schwartz

Baxter Tues April 6th. Wear all black and a mask if you so desire. 6pm-9pm.
10 people from Emergent Lit will be there
6 from Capstone
Sounds like Emergent Lit class will go first, capstone class last.

Wednesday - prep for Friday test.
Bring a question.

By Monday April 12th, post a paragraph on your blog about your paper topic/thesis.

The Following Story: culminating text for the class.
Focus on p. 39, 48-9, 53 (transformation), 55 (holy life), 64 (memory), 89 (Herman as Socrates), 98 (the world is a never-ending cross-reference), 106 (importance of stories),
• First part - goes to sleep in Amsterdam and wakes up in Lisbon
• Second part - on a boat into the afterlife; child, pilot, priest, journalist
the journey from one state of being into another - being into death-
Time is warped - the book is 2 secs long “What sort of time can this be in which time stands still?”

Santiago de Compostela - pilgrimage - we are all leaving/we are all arriving
“The only constant we know is that things change.”

Weighing in on The Following Story:
-Sarah Knox: Mirrors: (right out of Borghes) p. 36 Nooteboom
-Douglas Fejes: p. 50 question of tenses . . . “Tell me exactly what you think we are then . . . endlessly altering circumstances which we consider as I.”
-Jennifer is reminded of Samuel Beckett
-James the rat - 20 min. lifetime: he’s not really dying because he’s been dead the whole time. (Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge - the story happens in his moment of death/hanging)
-Lisa Hiller - the difference between silence and storytelling - via dreams, via consciousness, outward storytelling/ verbal. (p136)

Events only become experiences when we reflect/write/read about them. - Henry James

Death of Socrates: p89—condemned for corrupting morals of students in Athens—what would I gain by clinging to life like an unwilling child?—One’s life is complete at every moment therefore hemlock taken now is no different than if taken later—
p115: not my soul, but my body . . .