No subject

[integer at www.god-emil.dk]

>hallo netochka

hello. how are you


>can you tell/wisper me more [maieutikally only] about these lines
>you've written lately as an answer to someone's mail? I would like to
>hear more about it <96> if it's possible.
>
>>stories only exist in stories.
>>tarkovski _did understand but was scared. i am not.

he understood that love is more important than happiness.   
[hence immune.play = love.theory [tm] + empathetic programming [tm]
 something beautiful - unlike the unfortunate ...]

but ___... he died longing. as did gibran [scared as well] whom 01 other
has quoted for me. [i quote for you below]

reading tarkovski.

i read 4 you:

last night i had a terribly sad dream. i dreamed again of a
northern ( i think ) lake somewhere in russia; it was dawn, and
on the far shore were two orthodox monasteries, with amazingly
beautiful cathedrals and walls. and i felt 
such sadness! such pain!

tarkovski in 1984     [was the lake. and i his dream]


in 1984 he left his home.








>Andre Tarkovski:
>http://www.underview.com/2001/solaris.html


>Kelvin's ultimate destiny is to return to the place where he was born. 
>He can go nowhere else

ekzakt


>Then the miracle occurred. 

1 must ... wait + ...






When love beckons to you, follow him, though his ways are hard and steep. And when
his wings enfold you yield to him, though the sword hidden among his pinionsmay
wound you. And when he speaks to you believe in him, though his voice may shatter
your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.

For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth
so is he for your pruning. Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your
tenderest branches that quiver in the sun, so shall he descend to your roots and
shake them in their cling to the earth.

Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself. He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks. He grinds you to whiteness. He kneads you
until you are pliant; and then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may
become sacred bread for God's sacred feast.

All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart,
and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart.

But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure, then it
is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's
threshing-floor, into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of
your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.

Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself. Love possesses not
nor would it be possessed; for love is sufficient unto love.And think not you can
direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.
Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself. But if you
love and most 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.






http://www.yanagisawa.se/collections/f1999/f1999.html


love consists in this, that two solitudes greet
and protect and touch each other.

yes, for beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror,
which we still are just able to endure, and we are so awed for
it serenely disdains to annihilate us. 

http://www.yanagisawa.se/collections/s2000/s2000.html

yes, the springtime did need you. many stars
demanded that you sense them. a wave
since gone by lifted itself toward you,
or when you passed a window that was open, a violin
gave itself up. all this was a change.
but did you complete it?  were you not always
distracted with expectation, as though this were
but announcing someone you could love? (where would
you have concealed her, with those strange heavy thoughts
going in and out of you, lasting into the night)
when longing overcomes you, sing of the Lovers; their
famous feeling is not immortal enough.

  - rilke. the first elegy


http://www.yanagisawa.se/collections/f1999/f1999_2.html












>I love coincidences.
 I love coincidences

ko!nz!densez.

- http://www.m9ndfukc.org/data/noisz/rachmaninov.02.mp3
- http://www.m9ndfukc.org/data/noisz/rachmaninov.08.mp3


1001.nn.