Paintings : Journey, Physically or Mentally….?
” A Journey Around My Room” by Xavier de Maistre
Whenever I think about journey, his amazing room comes to my mind… His voyage in his room. Maybe we are all a bit same with him. Our words, our thoughts are the track of our own journeys… Wittgenstein said something like that too…
I am a traveler… To read, to search, to learn means to travel also… I can say I travel mentally more than physically. Into the words, into the stories, into the music or art, or photographs… Of course it depends on the power of their narrators… it depends on how he/she expresses, pictures us… Should be a way, a bridge that will take us to jump into his/her amazing stories/voyages,….etc. Actually this is magic… as if magic… But at the end you make this voyage, as if it was real… as if you can say that yes, I was there too…. yes, I know…
Am I crazy? Yes, a little bit…. 🙂
Life is a journey…. yes, we always say like that! But on the other hand, if we think deeply, life actually only a passage… Like a corridor… Long or short! But we pass through this corridor… There is a platform of the great station of the universe (named earth)…. We can see the lights, red, green and yellow…
How much I love his poetry, how beautifully he expressed,
“Not I, nor anyone else can travel that road for you.
You must travel it by yourself.
It is not far. It is within reach.
Perhaps you have been on it since you were born, and did not know.
Perhaps it is everywhere – on water and land.”
Walt Whitman – Leaves of Grass
But you know, it is one way…. and also you know, as he said,
“No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.”Heraclitus
“If you don’t know exactly where you’re going, how will you know when you get there?” Steve Maraboli / Life, The Truth, and Being Free
“End? No, the journey doesn’t end here. Death is just another path, one that we all must take. The grey rain-curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass, and then you see it.”J.R.R. Tolkien
“The journey is the treasure.” Lloyd Alexander
“There comes . . . a longing never to travel again except on foot.” Wendell Berry – Remembering
“How you climb a mountain is more important than reaching the top.” Yvon Chounard – Let My People Go Surfing
As you set out for Ithaka
hope the voyage is a long one,
full of adventure, full of discovery.
Laistrygonians and Cyclops,
angry Poseidon—don’t be afraid of them:
you’ll never find things like that on your way
as long as you keep your thoughts raised high,
as long as a rare excitement
stirs your spirit and your body.
Laistrygonians and Cyclops,
wild Poseidon—you won’t encounter them
unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you.
Hope the voyage is a long one.
May there be many a summer morning when,
with what pleasure, what joy,
you come into harbors seen for the first time;
may you stop at Phoenician trading stations
to buy fine things,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
sensual perfume of every kind—
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
and may you visit many Egyptian cities
to gather stores of knowledge from their scholars.
Keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you are destined for.
But do not hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you are old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.
Ithaka gave you the marvelous journey.
Without her you would not have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.
And if you find her poor, Ithaka won’t have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you will have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.” C.P. Cavafy
“Memory is the basis of every journey.” Stephen King – Dreamcatcher
“It’s time, Old Captain, lift anchor, sink!
The land rots; we shall sail into the night;
if now the sky and sea are black as ink
our hearts, as you must know, are filled with light.
Only when we drink poison are we well —
we want, this fire so burns our brain tissue,
to drown in the abyss — heaven or hell,
who cares? Through the unknown, we’ll find the new. (“Le Voyage”)”
Charles Baudelaire, Flowers of Evil and Other Works