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NF-Lee's Gildor and Frodo

"...they are but beggars" by jan-u-wine, with painting by Monet.

Posted on 2010.10.19 at 21:46


verangel at 2010-10-25 05:03 (UTC) (Link)
Oh you glorious ladies. I have catching up to do. There are several of your posts I wanted to read and am going to now. My life is so crazy with children, fall, sickness, nyc, work, I'msoold!, so on...taking time to really appreciate what you do is important to me. I am sending this to work to grasp more.
My mother is french. I have always loved the romanticism and beauty and depth of Monet. I actually only see the woman by herself as she looks to be fishing in the water. There are images on the sides but they are subtle and not clearly human to me. The shades and the water speak of quiet and melt like a puzzle to figure out. Nothing is clear but it all quietly resonates. That is the magic I always feel. It relaxes and makes you think a meriad of wonderful possibilities of a day, a moment or a yesteryear.

Jan's poem is so deeply intrigueing to me. I got lost in it immediately. I went from the painting to the possibilities of different meanings and thoughts. One can look at something so simply, but then, images shift and words make it more. This is the type of moment you want to gather and talk about what people "see". I see a child who see's parents in their intimate tranquility and passion and feels it and is mesmorized, then hides to be close to them and feel more. I am probably all wrong, which is why I want to look at it again during the day. But I love the image in my head too at the moment...and I love this (especially in realizing the translation from dust bunny to the soft quiet beggars velvet):

I find my rest here often,
held fast by distant memory,

clothing myself
in beggar's velvet**.

Hugs you both close. You are such deeply wonderful women. xooxoxxo v
mechtild at 2010-10-26 04:17 (UTC) (Link)
Verangel, what a wonderful reply! I am sorry to be so late getting back to you. I looked at the painting again and you're right, the blotches of colour "sitting" on the grass on the left side of the woman read to me as a seated boy, but that may be because of my reading about the Monets while they were at Montgeron. Monet painted Camille and their son many times in landscapes, there and elsewhere, so I made the leap that he was there. But he needn't be. Heck, I didn't even know the woman was there until I found a bigger image file for the painting. My first copies were so small you couldn't see she was there! (P.S. How cool that your mother in French - do you speak French, too?)

But that's just a small detail, one that doesn't take away from the appreciation of the painting, or add to it. It's simply a wonderful painting. You said of reading Jan's poem, "I got lost in it". I felt that way about the painting, but now that you've said it, I think that's a good way to talk about what happens to me when I read her poems, too. I've been saying "they draw me into them", but "get lost in them" sounds more precipitate, and it's like that. A few phrases and I'm in the poem's world. Kind of like what Bilbo said about the Road, ey? That if you step into it, you don't know where you might be swept off to. :)

I also was drawn (there's that word again, but think of "drawn" as in a tractor beam on Star Trek) to your description of how you imagined the relationship of Primula and Drogo, or the way you imagined it would appear to Frodo, and how attracted to their love he would be: "I see a child who see's parents in their intimate tranquility and passion and feels it and is mesmerized, then hides to be close to them and feel more." I just loved that. I think that's what I've been picturing, too, but you said it better.

Thanks so much for speaking at length, Verangel. I have profited from it. :)
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