I pass back through clusters of wild flowers in pastel shades. The scene is reminiscent of a small Church, decorated for a wedding as my daughter’s had been.
Each letter has its place related to lines that have already been drawn. At times, a letter grandstands at the opening of a sentence, and at others a it announces the end. Sometimes it must connect with the letters on each side, smoothly, mixing in becoming one of the group. And then there are those that connect awkwardly and prefer their own space, distant from others.
My stay in London taught me that there was immense beauty in diversity. How boring would it be if all looked and dressed alike, ate the same food, and had the same culture. But the most important lesson I learnt is that thoughts are conveyed to others as vibes, and not necessarily through interaction. Integration or friendship cannot be rewarding or long-lasting without total sincerity from both sides.
Much has been written about Charles, twenty years older than Ms. Liddell, and his relationship with the little girl. Did he feel any pangs of tender passion, romantic attachment or an aberrant sexual attraction to the little girl, or was it all innocent and pure, merely a platonic fondness with which he was drawn to the little girl on an entirely spiritual plane?
I think Tess of the d’Urbervilles is to the English, what Gustave Flaubert’s Madame Bovary is to the French and Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina is to the Russians – themes of sexual encounters, challenge to societal norms, infidelity, carnal desires and passion.
“I don’t want to discourage you, but a mismatched sock has no future,” said a stiff, cocky shirt that also hung from the rope.
Children have a mind that has not yet been indelibly marked by the world they live in. This is what fascinates me when I talk to them. They come up with fearless new proposals while older brains – like mine- tend to go with tried and tested designs, calling the process “experience”. When I look back at some of my own youthful experiments with art and creativity, I smile – or laugh. What I wouldn’t give to return to the innocence of my childhood, to the time I believed I was a misunderstood artist.
It took 25 years for my self-confidence to find a foothold, and 25 years more to ensure permanent stability.
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If you are reading this, you are familiar with the magical world one enters when a storyteller carries the reader to a place where arbitrary time and place intersect seamlessly.… Read more Discovering the magical worlds of words: Learning to read →