The rose’s beauty remains buried in the dark awareness that it has of
its inevitable decline. An awareness that is its very being, its
unfurling leading to the final wither.
Its beauty is merely the death
that labours in its blossoming.
Roger Munier
tr. by M. Tweed
I think all life is this way. We begin dying the minute we are born...sometimes it takes awhile to realize it.
ReplyDeleteyes. but maybe we tend to perceive this more acutely when it comes to something as beautiful as a rose. maybe this explains the japanese obsession with cherry blossoms as well, no?
DeleteYes. But the blossoming of anything, really. A weed is beautiful. A locust. Or some microbial being that lives for only a few moments. I tended an apple orchard once. And it was interesting that sometimes a tree blossomed most fully before dying. A last desire to carry on its legacy, I suppose. Just reflecting here about life forces.
DeleteEvery moment is a life time somewhere....
Deleteyou know, roxana, i don't believe that for a second (well, okay, maybe for a second!). the beauty of the rose is that it was a rose and will always rise to be a rose. Gosh, and I thought *I* was the black sun!
ReplyDelete:-)
Miss you!
:-(
b.
yes, i know you don't believe that, i even wondered whether you would come here and confirm that! half of the time i don't believe that either :-)
Deletemissing, how come? i am not the one who's left, or?
Has anyone ever told you: you ask too many questions! [even for a woman! :-))]
DeleteYes, you are the one.
no, i am not.
DeleteTout simplement sublime dans sa simplicité...Bises Roxana
ReplyDeletemerci, chere Plum', de tout coeur.
Deleteje t'embrasse~
have I read this before by this author or have I read it before by many?
ReplyDeleteeither way, i have never seen a rose like this. not quite like this. pink that is both seduction and violence simultaneously. this is art with teeth. this is dying with pleasure))))
xo
erin
i think you must have, it is a feeling one can't escape having, at times, i think. quite related to the japanese fleetingness-feeling.
Deletei believe there is that beauty of total purity, beyond any movement or passion, but there is also a darker beauty made out of "seduction and violence", as you say. can the rose inspire both? i wouldn't have thought of this until now.
Dewey Redman, Charlie Haden, Paul Motian and Guilherme Franco.
ReplyDeleteIs that a good enough hint for you?
No!
It's Keith Jarrett's American Quartet (well, poor Guilherme played additional percussion, finger cymbals i think, and didn't count). They recorded a studio album in 1975 called Death and the Flower, and the cover (a rose, naturally) reminded me of your rose, dearest.
i found the cover, now i must find the album as well! thank you :-)))
DeleteWhat would be the pink and death without the wonderful storyteller ...
ReplyDeleteDivine Roxana, may serve for a post of yours, this poem Diego Muzzio "Crosses" (Sheol Sheol 1997):
"Cruces"
Profundo, en la sangre,
vive el árbol de cada uno;
de esa íntima madera
será la cruz.
oh wonderful!!!
Deletethank you so much... and for the appreciation of the importance of the storyteller, as well :-)
un abrazo
oh, zuerst dachte ich, die blätter seien schwarz und ganz erschreckt hat es mich... und heute sind sie für mich dunkelgrün... und ich dachte mir, meine letzte rose ist weiss geblieben und schön und hell, so lebendig sieht sie aus.... also keine "last rose"... ach, ich rede in rätseln... die weisse rose, für immer im licht! renée, schwebend und lächelnd, nachdenklich und hoffnungsvoll. das sind meine gedanken zu diesen aussergewöhnlichen bildern, gemälden gleich. lieb grüsst dich jemand, in ryokan gedenkend...! :-)
ReplyDeletedunkelgruen sind die doch, das schwarze war wohl eine illusion :-)
Deletewelche letzte rose, jetzt hast du mich neugierig gemacht :-) aber ich freue mich sehr, dich laechelnd und hoffnungsvoll zu sehen, liebste prinzessin!
ich umarme dich ganz lieb und lange.
este printre preferatele mel,si tu stii si asta:)
ReplyDeleteeste dupa-amiaza in care ai vazut ca ai nevoie de pulovere de lana,de ceai,ca pasii iti sunt inceti si splendizi,cumva, in tacerea intunecata a camerei; ca fiecare piesa isi are frumusetea ei care niciodata nu striga, si pentru care trebuie sa treaca anii,si multe epoci de infloriri cand le astepti si se tese in tine o lume de piatra frumoasa,pe care nu o poate clatina,in acea dupa-amiaza,nimic. este o dupa-amiaza in care trebuie sa fii singur si sa vezi totul,fiecare miscare pe care o face o silueta necunoscuta in lucirea mobilei,si totul este si strain,dar si atat de familiar; minunat!
iar mi l-a mancat, nu stiu ce are, numai la tine dispar comentariile :-(
Deletemai incerc o data, dar de data asta nu-ti mai trimit decat surasul meu, sa fiu sigura, este a treia oara!!!
"Without the rose, we could not do it." Joseph Beuys
ReplyDeleteyes, i know, how true this is, no?
DeletePerhaps it has something to do with my own age, but I find this stage of the rose, so gloriously captured here, to be its most beautiful. I love these images.
ReplyDeletethank you, Lynne. it is tearing, this beauty, and maybe that is why we find it at its most here.
Deletethis is a beautiful photo. another masterpeice. well yes unfortunately or fortunately tension is the driving force of lifethe attraction of the love of the passion encompasses the act of repulsion attraction of life cannot exist without repulsion.without decay there is no beauty until finally the decay becomes beauty.
ReplyDeletehave a gorgeous day.
HUGS.
you said it all, Madeleine - and i don't know either, whether this is fortunate or not.
Deletebises for you too, and hugs...