The repose of sleep refreshes only the body. It rarely sets the soul at rest.
The repose of the night does not belong to us. It is not the possession of our being.
Sleep opens within us an inn for phantoms.
The repose of the night does not belong to us. It is not the possession of our being.
Sleep opens within us an inn for phantoms.
In the morning we must sweep out the shadows.
from The Poetics of Reverie (Gaston Bachelard)
..
song
ReplyDeleteJ'aime beaucoup, merci Roxana...
ReplyDeletewho is this shadow that you sweep out in the morning?
ReplyDelete'the night is so dark
the way so short
yet you do not wake
against my heart.'
anon, are you a long-time follower of the Bridge? how else could you know that i love Patricia?! or is this a coincidence? hard to believe... it doesn't matter, thank you for reminding me of this song.
ReplyDeleteanon2:
a japanese folksong:
All day I hoe weeds.
At night I sleep.
All night I hoe again
In dreams the weeds of the day.
(now don't ask who is these weeds, you can do better than that :-P)
nathalie, thank you...
ReplyDeleteK'line :-)
bises...
ich bin kein dämon, wollte doch nur das letzte bisschen der freundschaft aufrechterhalten, die uns mal verbunden hat. entschuldigung.
ReplyDeleteno, not/never of the bridge itself. a long time? yes, but time doesn't pass here: it seems like a moment ago; it seems like forever.
ReplyDelete'all this happened before
all this is yet to happen.'
hard to believe...
but such little faith, child.
you must be a very restless sleeper!
The weed stood in the severed heart.
"What are you doing there?" I asked.
.."I grow," it said,
"but to divide your heart again."
there is a mystery into the unknown, into the deepest uncontrolable foldings of the textiles. it is as the waves of sleep have throuwn their silvery wings upon their fragile matter.
ReplyDeleteallways still but dinamic.
beautifull!
"He walked into the tatters of flame, but they did not bite his flesh -they caressed him, bathed him without heat and without combustion. With relief, with humiliation, with terror, he realized that he, too, was but appearance, that another man was dreaming him."
ReplyDeleteBorges
Je ne t'ai oublié je ne pense pas, tu ma oublier je ne pêne plus à mon âge, simple j’ai oublié le chemin c’est tout.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteanon, "The weed stood in the severed heart" - this is a gorgeous line.
ReplyDeleteFlipi, oh, i've felt all this about the sheets folds but i could have never put it into words. now you came and you did that, and i am so grateful for this!
ah myth, yes! but perhaps, if he had been lying on a porch in spring, surrounded by fragrant roses, he would have dreamt that a rose was dreaming him! :-)
ReplyDeleteAllan, je ne t'ai pas oublie, mais toi tu as disparu pour longtemps, j'etais passee te voir souvent mais puis mes visites sont devenues plus rares, c'est vrai... mais comme je suis contente de te retrouver ici! merci pour ta visite, cher ami...
Michael T, a new profile picture!!!
ReplyDeleteone wonders about (the) shadow(s), yes, one has always done it.
the improbable: Yves Bonnefoy writes on the first page of one of his books: 'I dedicate this book to the improbable, that is to say, to what is. To a spirit of vigil. To the negative theologies. To a poetry longed for, of rains, of waiting and of wind. To a great realism that aggravates instead of resolving, that designates the obscure, that takes clarity for clouds that can always be parted'.
and continuing, about the rest:
ReplyDeletethe Bridge, at least as i want it to be, is an open space for contemplation, pondering, discussion where everybody should feel free to express whatever thoughts or feelings one has to share. i happen to think that controversy and contradiction are fertile for thought, so i don't have any problems with criticism, as long as it is done intelligently and with respect to the other's opinion. in the rare cases i have been forced to intervene on the Bridge, it happened that some comments went beyond the limits of decency and that i couldn't allow. fortunately it has been a while since this last happened, and i hope it will stay like this.
if something bothers me, i speak up, and i think every one of my readers will do the same, if they feel offended. i personally like it when one does read, and attentively at that, the other readers' comments (it doesn't always happen like this) and when there is a vivid and enriching exchange of opinions which evolves into a true discussion.
only 'to express concurrence with other comments' - or with the posts i make, for that matter - seems to me a boring affair, unworthy of the spirit of that 'great realism' of which Bonnefoy spoke, so we shouldn't even be mentioning it :-)
Robert!???
ReplyDeletewann wolltest du das eigentlich? ich weiss nicht, wer hier ueber Freundschaft zu sprechen hat, da Du derjenige bist, der verschwunden ist, soweit ich mich erinnere. Daher verstehe ich den Ton, den Du hier anschlaegst, gar nicht. Ausserdem hat Dein Kommentar nichts mit meinem Post zu tun.
The train disappeared from the station into a dense fog, and i stood next to an umbrella stand, casting my eyes upon a familiar fellow, an oneiromancer, now living in Boston, but originally born in a delightful corner of Tahti, under a taro leaf of virescent velour. Naturally, we engaged in a rapture-less conversation (dull intercourse) about the aetiology of dreams.
ReplyDeleteDearest, your interplay of light and shade (a demonic plexus) is stunning. Even my personal epistemology of color does not fully account for your deft
offerings.
Roxana:
ReplyDeleteEsperamos verte más seguido por nuestro blog. Es un verdadero gusto.
"Another kind of sleep" es genialmente ligero, sutil, suavemente profundo.
Hope to see you more often for our blog. It's a real pleasure.
"Another kind of sleep" is cool and light, subtle, gently profound.
Personally, I value the depth expressed in images that suggest just ...
Interesting comments, Roxana. Dunno, though.
ReplyDeleteI think that contradiction and controversy can be overdone. To say 'Yes!', to think *with* others, *of* others, to not always want to prove one's point or 'thrash out an argument'...all that seems to me to part of the great realism you talk about. no?...a sort of Russian double inversion: not the cogito but, rather: we *are, therefore I think...a common mind, in both senses of the word?
If half of us wants departures, the other half wants home.
Nice post, btw. Some of the pictures reminded me of 'Hiroshima' for some odd reason.
this is a gorgeous line.
ReplyDeleteyes, amazing what a bit of searching on google can do!
(sorry Michael, the fragments of Sappho were also dug up like that).
oh, anon, that was Elizabeth Bishop! now this explains everything, i really wondered how you could speak like this :-P
ReplyDeletebut why would you wonder whether i could or could not speak like this when you don't even know me!
ReplyDeletehow did you know? have you been cheating? tut.tut.
Ultima imagine este reprezentarea exceptionala a somunului, a visului, a unui inconstient in care parca incepi sa vezi clar fantomele. Iar intimitatea imaginii ma face sa il inteleg pe Freud si obsesiile lui.
ReplyDeleteThose rumpled sheets, half illuminated, seem to echo the contents of my mind somehow...
ReplyDeleteBut if we talk with those shadows in the morning we may learn much about that phantom's inn and shed light on the mysteriouss treasures that it hides within its wavering walls.
ReplyDeletePostcards from the Phantoms' Inn are available at the check-out desk in the lobby.
hello beautiful Roxana, to be very honest Roxana,I am madly passionately in love with all your posts.When I come here it is always a rich voyage of revelation for me.
ReplyDeleteEvery blog has its own atmosphere because of what the journalist has to offer,how he treats his commentators and what the commentators have to offer.
and the comments left here on the bridge are passionate treasures that respond to your posts and I sooooooooooo enjoy reading them.
I love the atmosphere here.How you treat all commentators with the utmost respect and you take the time to cultivate each comment so that we are even further enriched.You show your deep appreciation for all comments.
also what is beautiful here is that people come with an offering in four different languages.sometimes google translator works beautifully but to have a journalist that is competent in four languages and offers expression in all those languages is another beautiful contribution to the heavenly atmosphere of the bridge.What a cultural treasure to find this offering in a journal.
and I say four languages not counting japanese, you often enrich our worlds with these cultural jewels and I know that you speak french and english as if it is your maternal language,and you were born in Romania, so you must be as competent in romanian language and you teach the german language so when I say you are competent it is not said lightly.
thankyou for your deep respect to all languages and for your respectful appreciation over the past year.
and if any commentators care to read my comment thankyou to them for enriching my visit to the bridge with their passionate treasures.
and beautiful Roxana, to respond to your post how I love these deep shadows of the lines of our draperies.
ReplyDeletewhat a beautiful match your photos are to the words.
Yes I so agree with the words. the night does not belong to us.I used to remember my dreams and they were so violent,I would sometimes wake up exhausted and terrified and then then I read a book on dreams and it suggested that if you wanted to forget your dreams before you fall asleep tell your mind to do so and it worked but I fully realize that the night does not belong to me.But I like to write and that is my consolation I have waking fantasies.
Oh this is so funny this mattress here reminds me of a current problem I had with a mattress. I bought a new bed to fit my modest budget and it off gassed and attacked me. The mattress attack!My eyes were bloodshot,I felt nauseated,I was dizzy. So in desperation I had to purchase an organic bed for 3800 dollars!what a waking nightmare!hahaha.
sending you sweet dream kisses my beautiful friend.
wenn die Seele am Tage ihre Ruhe findet, wird sie sie auch in der Nacht finden und der Schlaf, wie wahr, er bringt die Dinge zum Vorschein, die Du am Tage nicht zu bedenken getraust... also: schliessen wir doch Frieden mit der Nacht!
ReplyDeleteDie Bilder harmonisieren mit dem Gesprochenen, heben die Stimmung wunderbar hervor. Ein Kunst, die Dir, liebste Roxana, gegeben ist, die Bilder sprechen zu lassen...!
Dir wünsche ich wunderbare Träume und Frieden am Tag und auch in der Nacht!
Renée
wonderful textures of the night --- & how white the night can be....
ReplyDelete:)nu stiam despre postare,precum stii,nici nu apucasem,cred,sa iti povestesc despre cantecelele mele din zori din zi,cand alungam fantomele,cu sunete afone,insa atat de cristaline,ca si cand clopotelul unui nou interval de"trezie"ar putea disipa fantomele.fantomele noastre,pe care le uram cand sunt mari si smolite,pe care le privim in ochi,incercand un care pe care,ba chiar ne bucuram masochist,ca avem ocazia de a inventa o noua lupta.si luptam cu fantomele tinand in mana buchetelele pernelor rascolite in noapte,purtand rochitele cele subtiri si albe,oferindu-ne cu atata claritate,incat nimeni nu ar mai crede,vreodata,ca nu dormim ,intinsi,in somn,cand proiectorul este lasat deschis.
ReplyDeleteaceasta postare imi intampina diminetile.mai este nevoie oare de cantec?
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteMagnifiques noir et blanc ! Il y a quelque chose de très subtil par ici... Une émotion ?
ReplyDeleteMerci Roxana :)
...muy hermoso
ReplyDeletebeautiful, I can hear you read that aloud :)
ReplyDeleteProspero,
ReplyDeleteah, but the aetiology of the Bridge is the ever-demonic interplay of light and shade (some would argue, i think, but as always she prefers to dwell upon the threshold, in the waters of the evasive). it must be her japanese soul (except when she gets one of her expressionistic crisis, of course).
W.O.Larsen,
if you want, you can write in spanish because i understand, there was a time i could speak and (relatively) write it too. i remember the last novel i read in spanish was El amor en los tiempos del cólera (a long time ago). thank you so much for your visit and kind words, i am exploring your music every day :-)
billoo,
ReplyDeleteto be honest i can't relate your comment to what i said, since i have never advocated 'constant' controversy and criticism as you imply. if you read my answers, i only pointed out that controversy and criticism are not at all banished from the Bridge's comments section, as one seemed to fear, and that i consider them fertile _as part_ of a dialogue which of course also implies "thinking with others" and say 'yes', when necessary.
(i must see Hiroshima again, but it destroys me every time)
ps. "nice post"??? i have to confess that i prefer blatant criticism to this lukewarm _yes_ :-P
Natalia,
bine că există şi inconştientul lui Jung, care ne uneşte cu universul şi de care nu trebuie să ne temem, dimpotrivă. eu una îl prefer fără ezitare celui freudian :-)
Stickup,
i hope the echo is not (only) unpleasant, but fertile too. (i say 'unpleasant' because of the 'rumpled'-word, it evokes that for me).
Lynne,
talk with those shadows??? how brave you are :-)
Madeleine,
this paean of the Bridge left me without words, i am truly touched and grateful for such praise, though it makes me very shy too, i don't think i deserve it. (learning languages has always been both a play and a pleasure for me, ruined only by my perfectionism but i have become less self-critical with age :-). if someone had told me 5 years before that i would keep a blog in english, even attempt to write in english, i would have died of laughter. another praise to the improbable :-)
thank you for bringing your sensitivity and rich interpretation gift onto the Bridge, i know how much you care about her well-being and harmonic unfolding over time and distances.
Renée,
ReplyDeleteda hat Novalis ebenfalls eine andere Meinung, der feiert doch die Nacht als heilig und als Tor zur anderen, hoeheren Welt, zum Einswerden mit dem Sein:
Muß immer der Morgen wiederkommen? Endet nie des Irdischen Gewalt? unselige Geschäftigkeit verzehrt den himmlischen Anflug der Nacht. Wird nie der Liebe geheimes Opfer ewig brennen? Zugemessen ward dem Lichte seine Zeit; aber zeitlos und raumlos ist der Nacht Herrschaft. – Ewig ist die Dauer des Schlafs. Heiliger Schlaf – beglücke zu selten nicht der Nacht Geweihte in diesem irdischen Tagewerk. Nur die Thoren verkennen dich und wissen von keinem Schlafe, als den Schatten, den du in jener Dämmerung der wahrhaften Nacht mitleidig auf uns wirfst. Sie fühlen dich nicht in der goldnen Flut der Trauben – in des Mandelbaums Wunderöl, und dem braunen Safte des Mohns. Sie wissen nicht, daß du es bist der des zarten Mädchens Busen umschwebt und zum Himmel den Schoß macht – ahnden nicht, daß aus alten Geschichten du himmelöffnend entgegentrittst und den Schlüssel trägst zu den Wohnungen der Seligen, unendlicher Geheimnisse schweigender Bote.
ich umarme Dich ganz lieb, Wolkenprinzessin! bis sehr bald!
fff,
ReplyDeletei don't think you share Bachelard's fear of the night, do you? besides, you are right, photographing at night one is amazed to see how white the night can be :-)
(i remember how astonished i was when i first learned that one can photograph in complete darkness, it seemed such an impossible magic. but photography is magic anyway).
da,da, Cerasela, şi eu m-am gândit la acea coincidenţă, şi râdeam aşteptând s-o descoperi şi tu :-)
(totuşi, este întotdeuna nevoie de cântec)
Michael T,
this being a Bachelard-post as well, among other things, i can't resist thinking of the Poetics of Reverie, when you compare night dreaming and lucid dreaming. i love the word 'reverie' in French, it is so rich and beautiful, lucid dreaming less so. i only have it in french and i can't find the quote that i would have liked to share in english, perhaps i will attempt at translating it another time. i wonder whether you'd like the book too.
(i've never been to Montreal, or Canada for that matter, except in many lucid and less lucid dreams :-)
Jeff,
ReplyDeleteune emotion? avec un signe d'interrogation? tu n'es pas sur? qu'est-ce qui pourrait etre la, sinon? :-)
bises...
cathaysa,
muchas gracias por estas palabras y por atardecer sobre el Ponte :-)
But what is this 'great realism' that aggravates instead of resolving?The quote makes it sound like that is what *is*, like that is *only* what is.
ReplyDeleteNice is one of the most misunderstood words in the language! Granted, it has come to be thought of only as a 'lukewarm' term but, still, I think there's something to be said for it.
Anyways,have a nice day!
(sorry, sorry, couldn't resist)
b.
Wonderful, wonderful images. It is the rumpled bed of Everyman/Everywoman. I have a childhood friend, an atheist, who is totally angered by dreams because they ruin his precious sleep. He says that it is one reason he does not hate the thought of death, because it will be like sleep only without the GD dreams!
ReplyDeleteThe pillowslip in one shot reminds me of a Marimekko pattern. Very pretty. An opposite of a phantom.