| I forgot that word, it defines the concept of something incapable of being captured in words.
I dont know what to do without it so I am now trailing the end of "Good Omens" to find it... I guess since this term fled from me suddenly the definition it describes became so much more real...Im sure it started with an 'i' but gimme some time and I hope to uncover it soon.
More will follow later...
Ok, 2 minutes and 13 seconds later I have found it.
Ineffable...
in‧ef‧fa‧ble /ɪnˈɛf əbəl/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[in-ef-uh-buhl] –adjective | 1. | incapable of being expressed or described in words; inexpressible: ineffable joy. |
| 2. | not to be spoken because of its sacredness; unutterable: the ineffable name of the deity. |
Can anybody relate to this?
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| I am fascinated with art. There is so much within a piece that cries out to the world. Often the trials of love, war, peace and beauty fall out of the canvas and into the observers lap to be handled and criticized. I feel we often forget about who the artist is though. They become reduced to names representing a factory of pleasing images. How many consider the nature of Van Gogh when gazing into the Starry Night? Tonight I found myself fascinated with a portrait of Gustav Klimt. He's balding, aged and cradling a cat with such a warm expression. Rarely do you feel like there might be more to an artist than their productions. In this case I feel invited into something more than the delicate strokes of a brush. This time all he had to do was pose as himself and the photo did the work. This is art, and the artist is simply revealed. This is how I am able to relate to Klimt.
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| What a weekend. To much to really put in words.
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| Two years and three months later I am led back to that special
place only Yesnaby could reveal. I found myself at the edge staring
down 70 feet into the cold Atlantic and the western sun hovering
slighly, but not still, over the horizon. A tight crevice and my body
snug within. At 11pm I watched the sun run it's lap so steadily, never
missing a beat. Somewhere around 11:30 at night the dark began to
succeed and this is when I said goodbye.
Home is where the heart is, and my heart is with Yesnaby.
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| I'm wearing a toga...
and I am not at a toga party, or ancient Rome.
Can ya dig it?
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