Lucille Chabot, American, born 1908Angel Gabriel Weather Vane Drawing, 1939
National Gallery of Art, Washington
What shall I call you? Look, my lips are lame.
You are the beginning that gushes forth,
I am the slow and fearful Amen
that timidly concludes your beauty ...
Rilke, from "The Guardian Angel"
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Ok. Sit by the fire, open the ice cold bubbly... or is it coffee and pie.
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A Child's Christmas In Wales, read by Dylan Thomas.
& text version, Dylan's changes to the spoken version fascinate as a peek into the writer/editor mind. Its hard to find time to listen, if you love words this is worth it!
The visual, sensual delight of this opens doors to such scenery in my own Christmas memories. "Lets post a snowball in Mr so;so's letterbox. Lets write in the snow." It set me jotting in a journal, too. May it bring you on a journey within as well, where all the senses thrive awake and tingling to the wondrousness of "being."
Peace and Blessings, as always. Happy Holidays (i can't honestly understand how its December at all... :) but am looking forward to some delightful goodies.
Cheers.
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