Inspiration
By Jennifer Kiley
I find that one thought follows another and inspiration comes when you least expect it. Sometimes when you are not even paying attention. Suddenly, it pops into your head, that you need to write and explore more of what a particular idea means to you. If you are a writer, you explain in words the development of that original grain of thought. I, also, like to use images and music to encompass a more complete meaning of what it is I am trying to express.
Chuck Mangione “Land of Make Believe”
Definition:Stimulation of the mind or emotions to a high level of feeling or activity. The condition of being so stimulated. A person or work of art, that moves the intellect or emotions or prompts action or invention. A sudden creative act or idea, that is inspired. A work of art that is full of inspiration. Divine guidance or influence exerted directly on the mind and soul of humankind. An infusion into the mind or soul; an awakening or creation of thought, purpose, or any mental condition, by some specific external influence; intellectual exaltation; an inexplicable cognition, as the knowledge of an axiom, a universally accepted truth according to a priori (deductive) philosophers.
Saint-Saens “The Swan”( Le Cygne )-Carnival of the Animals
kandinsky “yellow-red-blue”
Remember
by Christina Rosetti
Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you planned:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.
If you feel it in your heart…
Honor it.
Even the pain.
No life is without its pain…its suffering.
Go where life leads…even into darkness.
Know inside the door of darkness
Love waits.
Let Her in.
Know that your heart holds love…
Even in the wake of hate.
Your heart feels joy…
Even in the wake of sorrow.
And your heart knows peace…
Even in the wake of conflict.
Do not discriminate…
Decide to feel it all.
Find the beginning at every end.
The end at each beginning.
Love will heal the pain
And there is great joy in that.
So let it in. All of it.
Honor the light…
Honor the darkness too.
mondrian “broadway boogie woogie”
Emily Dickinson
If what we could
Were what we would
Criterion be small
It is the ultimate of talk
The impotence to tell
monet “impression”
Sonnet CXLI
by William Shakespeare
In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes,
For they in thee a thousand errors note;
But ’tis my heart that loves what they despise,
Who, in despite of view, is pleased to dote.
Nor are mine ears with thy tongue’s tune delighted;
Nor tender feeling, to base touches prone,
Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invited
To any sensual feast with thee alone:
But my five wits nor my five senses can
Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee,
Who leaves unswayed the likeness of a man,
Thy proud heart’s slave and vassal wretch to be:
Only my plague thus far I count my gain,
That she that makes me sin awards me pain.
monet “giverny”
FROM:
I d e a.
by Michael Drayton
O these Loves who but for Passion looks,
At this first sight here let him lay them by
And seek elsewhere, in turning other books,
Which better may his labour satisfy.
No far-fetched sigh shall ever wound my breast,
Love from mine eye a tear shall never wring,
Nor in Ah me’s my whining sonnets drest,
A libertine, fantasticly I sing.
My verse is the true image of my mind,
Ever in motion, still desiring change
And as thus to variety inclined,
So in all humours sportively I range
My Muse is rightly of the English strain,
That cannot long one fashion entertain.
Massenet “Meditation” from Thais, Yo-Yo Ma
pollock “number 8″
Sonnet 43: How do I love thee? Let me count the ways
by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, ¬I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! ¬and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
van gogh “irises”
Funeral Blues
by W H Auden
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message ‘He is Dead’.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
Samuel Barber “Adagio for Strings Op. 11″
van gogh “starry night” c. 1889
I Think Continually Of Those Who Were Truly Great
Stephen Spender
I think continually of those who were truly great.
Who, from the womb, remembered the soul’s history
Through corridors of light where the hours are suns
Endless and singing. Whose lovely ambition
Was that their lips, still touched with fire,
Should tell of the Spirit clothed from head to foot in song.
And who hoarded from the Spring branches
The desires falling across their bodies like blossoms.
What is precious is never to forget
The essential delight of the blood drawn from ageless springs
Breaking through rocks in worlds before our earth.
Never to deny its pleasure in the morning simple light
Nor its grave evening demand for love.
Never to allow gradually the traffic to smother
With noise and fog the flowering of the spirit.
Near the snow, near the sun, in the highest fields
See how these names are feted by the waving grass
And by the streamers of white cloud
And whispers of wind in the listening sky.
The names of those who in their lives fought for life
Who wore at their hearts the fire’s center.
Born of the sun they traveled a short while towards the sun,
And left the vivid air signed with their honour.
Lifehouse “Broken” Official Video
kandinsky
Kahlil Gibran on Love
…Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.
Adele “Set Fire To The Rain” (Live at The Royal Albert Hall)
