Dear LO,
i accepted within myself two tasks of love as caritas this year and in
both i have signally failed. It is not surprising to have failed because i
tried to come to a success in each case via a method that has not, yet,
been born. You see;-) it requires that people simply and abruptly give up
what they think they have and own....and i do not love them enough for it-
"-Ster, planeit, firmament, and speir,
Fyre, erd, air, and water cleir,
To him gife loving, most and lest,
That come in to so meik maneir."
Wiliam Dunbar
Paul Klee created 'Angelus Novus' (1920) (Rick I have enclosed a picture
file for the LO) during a two year period in which his work included
several representations of airplane and angel flights and crashes. (The
word "theatre" means etymologically, 'to bring forward from the
background'.) Peter Senge says that is the nature of our time, i perhaps
mean how not what our time will be. Time is a slippery multi helical thing
Peter;-) It cuts both ways in the swing of it;-) We, for example, have
been living with three times this last few days, we have had BST and we
have had Virginia time and we have had Andrew TIME which is no time at
all;-)
[Host's Note: Andrew's image is at:
http://www.learning-org.com/images/LO28906_AngelusNovus.jpg
..Rick]
" Klee repeatedly painted the image of the angel. It sometimes takes up the
theme of loss ( in its wings;-) translated into the more familiar motif of
arrows;-) " Like the artists Kiefer and Beuys mythology and allegory
negotiates rupture (war) and rapture (victory of the human spirit). For Klee
the image of Angelus Novus represented an emergence (EMERGENCE) from the
rubble of the First World War." When Walter Benjamin acquired the image he
wrote,
" A Klee painting named Angelus Novus shows an angel as though he is about to
move away from something he is fixedly contemplating. His eyes are staring,
his moth open, his wings are spread. This is how one pictures the angel of
history. His face is turned toward the past. Where we perceive a chain of
events, he sees a single catastrophe which keeps piling wreckage upon
wreckage and hurls it in front of his feet. The angel would like to stay,
awaken the dead, and make whole what has been smashed. But a storm is blowing
from Paradise; it has got caught up in his wings with such violence that the
angel can no longer close them. The storm irresistibly propels him into the
future to which his back is turned, while the pile of debris before him grows
ever skyward. The storm is what we call progress."
Maybe more people need to own up to living a 'disney lifestyle' - like
Jaworski did.
At, I wrote and sent some pictures to Prigogine. He says kindly that he is
glad to see an artist preoccupied with difficult problems of philosophy.
Seems a long road. How are your wings dear Mister de Lange?
Love,
Andrew
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