If you want some freelance graphic design work in central NC, e-mail me now. For serious–we’re going to start reviewing portfolios very soon. Really good money. Great little college town. The works.<\/p>\n
* * * * * *<\/p>\n
This cracks me up, specifically the theme song.<\/a> Careful, one listen and you might want to move :)<\/p>\n * * * * * *<\/p>\n Been reading T.S.Eliot lately. I get the feeling that I don’t understand much of it. I could pretend that I pick up on all the references, the symbolism, the structure of his poetry, but I don’t. But I still love it. His poems are of course rife with classical imagery, obscure academic references, quotes in about half a dozen other languages, and I can feel the structure of the poems as I read the words, but he still manages to construct a seemingly stream-of-consciousness flow through the verses, making the poems almost seem “imperfect,” and thus more accessible. They are obviously in reality imperfect, as many critics have pointed out, but it’s the engineered<\/i> quality of imperfection that I know is present that makes them appealing–it makes them more “human” because of the stops and starts, the repetitions and whatnot, mirror the way our subconscious mind operates… For me it’s almost like pulling on a surrogate inner personality–so much of it reflects the way I talk to myself, deliberate in my mind, experience the push and pull of my emotions and will:<\/p>\n In a minute there is time Also, he creates metaphors and doesn’t seem affected by their complexity or frequency in the least. I love this. So many times I’ll experience a song, or a poem, or a work of prose, that loves to exult in the clever metaphors it assembles, the little similies sprinkled into the piece. I’m not sure if there’s a way that I could point out when it’s occurring–it’s more just a general sense I get when I read a particular book or listen to a song. Sometimes there are more pauses around the metaphors the author\/songwriter wants us to dwell on. Sometimes they’ll be weighted towards the end of sentences. Sometimes the artist in question will come up with a fantastic metaphor around which he’ll build his story, and pillage it to the point where it’s lost all meaning by the end. There are lots of ways…<\/p>\n But Eliot (and Joyce does this too, admirably), will simply toss off the most expressive and descriptive metaphors imaginable and just carry on<\/i>:<\/p>\n “When the short days of winter came, dusk fell before we had well eaten our dinners. When we met in the street the houses had grown sombre. The space of sky above us was the colour of ever-changing violet and towards it the lamps of the street lifted their feeble lanterns. The cold air stung us and we played till our bodies glowed. Our shouts echoed in the silent street. The career of our play brought us through the dark muddy lanes behind the houses, where we ran the gauntlet of the rough tribes from the cottages, to the back doors of the dark dripping gardens where odours arose from the ashpits, to the dark odorous stables where a coachman smoothed and combed the horse or shook music from the buckled harness.” (from Joyce’s excellent<\/u> Araby<\/a><\/i>)<\/p><\/blockquote>\n Eliot’s poetry has a similar timbre to me. There’s a precision<\/i> to his words that I adore. The gait of the piece and the construction of the verses reflects for me an extraordinary amount of care used in selecting the words and the sequence that would most accurately convey the emotion or thought or feeling in question. And with the almost haphazard, “imperfect” quality running through the poems that allows them to speak to our subconscious… I don’t know of many equally complete<\/i> poets or authors.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" If you want some freelance graphic design work in central NC, e-mail me now. For serious–we’re going to start reviewing portfolios very soon. Really good money. Great little college town. The works. * * * * * * This cracks me up, specifically the theme song. Careful, one listen and you might want to move […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.boldulysses.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/828"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.boldulysses.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.boldulysses.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.boldulysses.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.boldulysses.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=828"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.boldulysses.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/828\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.boldulysses.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=828"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.boldulysses.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=828"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.boldulysses.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=828"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nFor decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse. (from Eliot’s …Prufrock<\/a><\/i>)<\/p><\/blockquote>\n