Tears in Heaven Album: Rush Date: 1992 Genre: Soft Rock Artist: Eric Clapton
Eric Clapton is a rock and blues guitarist, singer, and songwriter. He is considered one of the most influential guitarists in rock music and ranks second in Rolling Stone’s list of 100 Greatest Guitarists of All Time
Green / 2 Orange X Painting 1983 Minimalism Acrylic and black pencil on canvas The Art Institute of Chicago, USA
‘Green/ 2 Orange X Painting’ consists of several canvases fused together to form an X. A pencil line marking out the inner spaces of the cross forms a second X within the composition.
Robert Mangold Minimalism, Modern Art Born: 12 October 1937, New York, USA Nationality: American
Mangold is a minimalist artist and the father of screenwriter and film director James Mangold
Maurice Jarre Film and TV Born: 13 September 1924, Lyon, France Nationality: French Died: 28 March 2009, California, USA
Jarre was a composer and conductor best known for his film scores, including Lawrence of Arabia and A Passage to India. Jarre received nine nominations for the Academy Awards, winning Best Original Score for Lawrence of Arabia in 1962, Doctor Zhivago in 1965, and A Passage to India in 1984. He is also the father of Jean-Michel Jarre
As the sweet sweat of roses in a still, As that which from chafed musk-cats’ pores doth trill, As the almighty balm of th’ early East, Such are the sweat drops of my mistress’ breast, And on her brow her skin such lustre sets, They seem no sweat drops, but pearl coronets. Rank sweaty froth thy Mistress’s brow defiles, Like spermatic issue of ripe menstruous boils, Or like the scum, which, by need’s lawless law Enforced, Sanserra’s starved men did draw From parboiled shoes and boots, and all the rest Which were with any sovereigne fatness blest, And like vile lying stones in saffroned tin, Or warts, or weals, they hang upon her skin. Round as the world’s her head, on every side, Like to the fatal ball which fell on Ide,
Or that whereof God had such jealousy, As, for the ravishing thereof we die. Thy head is like a rough-hewn statue of jet, Where marks for eyes, nose, mouth, are yet scarce set; Like the first Chaos, or flat-seeming face Of Cynthia, when th’ earth’s shadows her embrace. Like Proserpine’s white beauty-keeping chest, Or Jove’s best fortunes urn, is her fair breast. Thine’s like worm-eaten trunks, clothed in seals’ skin, Or grave, that’s dust without, and stink within. And like that slender stalk, at whose end stands The woodbine quivering, are her arms and hands. Like rough barked elm-boughs, or the russet skin Of men late scourged for madness, or for sin, Like sun-parched quarters on the city gate, Such is thy tanned skin’s lamentable state. And like a bunch of ragged carrots stand The short swol’n fingers of thy gouty hand. Then like the Chimic’s masculine equal fire, Which in the Lymbecks warm womb doth inspire Into th’ earth’s worthless dirt a soul of gold, Such cherishing heat her best loved part doth hold. Thine’s like the dread mouth of a fired gun, Or like hot liquid metals newly run Into clay moulds, or like to that Etna Where round about the grass is burnt away. Are not your kisses then as filthy, and more, As a worm sucking an envenomed sore? Doth not thy feareful hand in feeling quake, As one which gath’ring flowers still fears a snake? Is not your last act harsh, and violent, As when a plough a stony ground doth rent? So kiss good turtles, so devoutly nice Are priests in handling reverent sacrifice, And such in searching wounds the surgeon is As we, when we embrace, or touch, or kiss. Leave her, and I will leave comparing thus, She, and comparisons are odious
John Donne Born: 22 January 1572, London, UK Nationality: English Died: 31 March 1631, London, UK
Donne was a poet, scholar, soldier, and secretary. Born to a recusant family, he later became a cleric in the Church of England. He was made Dean of St Paul’s Cathedral, London under royal patronage. Donne is considered a preeminent metaphysical poet with poetry renowned for their metaphysical and sensual style, including sonnets, religious poems, love poems, elegies, and satires. Donne is also renowned for his sermons
Now as our Earth is weeping with our blood And climate change brings forth another flood
The power-crazy men telling their lies Tied in politics of false promise made For they know in the end innocence dies
From the Moon, the Earth shimmers blue and green There’s no sign of our sin from there is space Here on the ground, it’s a different scene Corporations continue in disgrace
Deceiving us all lying in our face But we are aware of all that has been We’re fighting back for our home planet’s good The might of the masses started as sighs We’re gathering strength, refusing to fade
Day 110 Prompt: 10 things you would tell your 14-year-old self
Hi Nigel,
‘Hiya! Is that really a good idea?’
What do you mean?
‘Life is a continuous learning curve so if we give into the temptation, if it were possible, to advise our younger selves about life are we not denying them their own life experiences?’
That’s a fair point. Surely, you have things you wish you had known
‘Don’t we all.’
Well, yeah, I think we all do
‘And you say you have no regrets’
I’m not sure that is the same thing
‘So if you had known things about your life in advance you wouldn’t have done somethings different?’
I can’t know for sure, but I don’t think so. I have learned to trust life to happen at it’s right time
‘So you trust your destiny’
Yes, don’t you?
‘Yes, which is why I don’t think it makes sense to tell the 14-year-old me anything other than that’
Well, to me that’s a good bit of advice, not sure how a 14-year-old would take it
‘Probably with that look of you know nothing old man’
Haha! Indeed
‘So what is the point of telling the 14-year-old obnoxious little twat I was anything as he would take no notice anyway’
Haha! ‘Yeah, whatever’ is disconcerting as a response
‘I bet you heard that a few times with your two’
Still do now and then
‘But they listen to you now’
When they want to, but that’s not always when they need to
‘Haha! So there is no real point going back to our 30-something selves either’
No, not really.
‘It’s just not done in an obnoxious twat kind of way’
At least less so, I hope
‘Accepting that is how things are is part of the learning curve, I think’
Perhaps, self-acceptance is a good bit of advice
‘Or just bloody get on with living your life’
Haha! Do it and be damned, I like it. See you tomorrow, Nige