What’s in a Painting? Taking a Closer Look at Théodore Géricault’s Masterpiece: Raft of the Medusa (c.Remarkable Women: The Life and Times of Gwenllian ferch Gruffydd, (Warrior Princess of Wales).The Gift of Humour: Laugh Your Way Through Life.Survival Archetypes – Their Role in the Collective/Personal Psyche and Why You Should Know About Them (Part 1).What’s in a Painting? Taking a Closer Look at Pieter Bruegel the Elder’s Masterpiece: The Census at Bethlehem (c.Kick Fear to the Cur… on Survival Archetypes – Their Ro… Ginnyburges on What’s in a Painting? Taking a… Happy Birthday to Ja… on Hommage to Heifetz – One… Ginnyburges on One of the Most Powerful Perfo… Joseph Davies on The Secret of Beethoven’s Fift…Ĭhristophe on A Study of J.S. To Supplement or not… on What You Need to Know About th… Join 11K other subscribers Recent Comments While I mourn for the white, torrid summer! Taste the sweet, yellow rays of the end of autumn, Of a gorgeous autumn or of a setting sun.Īh! let me, with my head bowed on your knees, Mistress or sister, be the fleeting sweetness Is worth as much as the sunlight on the sea.Įven to an ingrate, even to a scapegrace Nothing, neither your love, your boudoir, nor your hearth Sweet beauty, but today all to me is bitter I love the greenish light of your long eyes, That mysterious noise sounds like a departure. That somewhere they’re nailing a coffin, in great haste.įor whom? - Yesterday was summer here is autumn It seems to me, lulled by these monotonous shocks, ![]() Under the tireless blows of the battering ram. My spirit resembles the tower which crumbles The building of a scaffold has no duller sound. My heart will be no more than a frozen red block.Īll atremble I listen to each falling log Hate, horror, shivering, hard, forced labor, Soon we shall plunge into the cold darkness įarewell, vivid brightness of our short-lived summers!Īlready I hear the dismal sound of firewoodįalling with a clatter on the courtyard pavements. Marsh Marigolds ~ Nora Hopper (Mrs Chesson) (1871 – 1906) Only with scents, – scents dead leaves yield, ![]() In that regard perhaps we’d all wish for an Indian summer!Įnjoy some wonderful, evocative paintings by the likes of Monet, van Gogh, Henry Herbert La Thangue, Atkinson Grimshaw and Camille Pissarro, mixed with some of the most beautiful verses ever written about Autumn… The descriptions of Autumn in relation to a human lifespan mirror those of the seasons, and can be likened to a person reaching their most vivid and vibrant peak having reaped the harvest of a lifetime of experience, still benefiting from bountiful health, before the inevitable decline into the winter of life, which implies death… The temporary and mutable aspects of our existence are highlighted so beautifully in Autumn. It seems appropriate to turn to prose, while the last of the orange leaves cling doggedly to wind-battered trees… ![]() I have taken a selection of poetry, music and art relating this most rustic of seasons, (and yes, it wouldn’t be complete without some music from Vivaldi!) to fill you with awe and admiration at nature’s most vibrant of transitions.
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