Noticed Anny B.'s post of Monday 1/24, titled "An exotic disease". The disease in question is probably less exotic, more epidemic. At least I can identify with the feeling she describes, anyway. The carnival glitter-glare of globalized computer motoring, vs. our own old-homey worked-out vernacular trudge & frustrations.

Felt apropos too, considering my current nosing around David Jones again (see link posted ye'day). There was one struggling, depressed, spoiled, reactionary, pessimistic... yet very vital "handmade" original maker. Unusual (Blake-like) writer-artist.

In my way of thinking, the dedicated, gifted artist is a kind of local sign or signature of the free creative Spirit. Through those eyes and hands all things are re-ordered, refreshed, brought to meaning, made new. Call it a witness or shadow of Incarnation. Draw close (through its manifestations of beauty - fragile, partial, vital, authentic) to the principle of spiritual renewal, the secret victory over death, time and evil.

Mandelshtam's unfinished essay "Pushkin and Scriabin" points in this direction too.

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