It is really bizarre that I feel like I’ve been absent from WP for years, even though I haven’t been gone for long. I might be a sensitive and unprofessional writer, but I couldn’t bear such stress and lost my muse. I have a lot of professional writer friends, and they might do it easily, as the Persian proverb goes, “like drinking a glass of water.” However for me, I need a peaceful environment without any distractions to write, and walking around helps me expand my mind. Honestly, my thoughts flow more easily in my head than when I try to write them down. Anyhow, I need a bit of time to search for my muse. At least, I am happy that the construction process has come to an end, and I can gather my scattered thoughts together for the next period.
“Love is so short; forgetting is so long.”
Now, allow me to share a poem by Pablo Neruda as I settle into my spot. 💖🙏
Wind On The Island
By Pablo Neruda
The wind is a horse: hear how he runs through the sea, through the sky.
He wants to take me: listen how he roves the world to take me far away.
Hide me in your arms just for this night, while the rain breaks against the sea and earth,
in its innumerable mouth.
Listen how the wind calls to me galloping to take me far away.
With your brow on my brow with your mouth on my mouth our bodies tied to the love that consumes us let the wind pass and not take me away.
Let the wind rush crowned with foam, let it call to me and seek me galloping in the shadows, while I
sunk beneath your big eyes, just for this night shall rest, my love.
After overcoming some challenges and obstacles, I’m excited to return to my routine and begin by sharing a post on Egypt. I’m grateful for the support of the British Museum and my close friends, Marie Grilott and Marc Chartier.
Deniuenkhonsou wears a long, imposing wig adorned with a floral garland, a perfume cone and a lotus flower. Her ample pleated dress is transparent enough to reveal the folds of flesh on her stomach and hips as well as her rather plump thighs. Deniuenkhonsu worships a falcon-headed god named Ra-Horakhty-Atum, a composite god or synthesis of the main sun gods. His attributes confirm the inclusive character of this figure: in addition to the sun disk surrounded by a cobra on his head and the “ankh” sign in one hand, he holds a crozier and a flail, generally associated with Osiris and the sceptre, which he holds in his other hand is crowned with the feather of Ma’at and another “ankh”. Solar imagery dominates the arch of the stele. Under a blue border representing the sky, the winged solar disk, supported by the scarab, rises from its nocturnal journeys to the underworld, symbolized by the two figures of the jackal god, Anubis. Offerings include lotuses; plucked and gutted poultry; a bowl of grapes (?); round, decorated loaves of bread; under the table, two mounted lettuces and a pot of beer put on a stand and rolled up with a lotus stem. The lower edge of the stele consists of a reddish band bordered by a row of tiny green plants. Since red and pink were used to represent desert land, unlike the black land of the Nile Valley, it must represent a strip of desert dotted with plants.
This stele was made for a woman named Deniuenkhonsou, a musician of Amun and the wife of Ankhkhonsu.
In painted sycamore wood, this stele is 33 cm high, 27 cm wide and 4 cm thick; its weight is 1.302 kg. Dated to the Third Intermediate Period, it could come from Thebes. ; it was acquired by the British Museum in 1896.
The little + of Egyptophile: Auguste Mariette specifies, “Until the XIth dynasty, the stelae are quadrangular… But from the XIth dynasty, the stele takes the form it no longer abandons except on rare occasions. It is rounded by en high as if intended to recall the curvature of the sky or that of the sarcophagi lids.” He also sheds this “general” light on the symbolic design of the steles: “The top of the stele is supposed to be lost in the sky. As we descend downwards, we approach the earth. In other words, the stele is divided into three zones.”
Depicted in the pure style of the late 18th and early 19th Dynasties, this woman wears a long ceremonial wig that wraps around her shoulders. Each chunky lock is crimped, individually braided and tied at the tip. Two shorter locks frame her face. Her large tiara is gold, rendered here in yellow paint. The lotus flower that adorns her forehead, the stems of which seem to cross above her head at the back of the ribbon, was probably “artificial” unless it was an integral part of the tiara. Her dress is a large rectangular piece of linen, pleated and transparent, wrapped around her body with a fringed edge on the front. Another pan is brought over the left shoulder and arm, and a knot on the right under the chest holds the whole thing in place. The woman’s left foot is missing, but – unusually – her two accessories have been preserved. She holds a lotus flower in her dangling right hand and a bouquet of flowers, skilfully “stacked” in her left.
This painted wooden statuette, dating from the beginning of the 19th dynasty, is 33 cm high. Its ancient provenance is unknown. It was part of Robert Hay’s collection and entered the British Museum in 1868.
The little + of Egyptophile: Robert Hay (1799-1863), endowed with a comfortable fortune, was a Scottish painter, draftsman and collector. He spent more than ten years of his life in Egypt and Nubia, raising monuments. He notably collaborated with Joseph Bonomi, Owen Brown Carter, Frederic Catherwood, Edward William Lane, or even George Oskins, an antiquarian who, in particular, said: “The ‘Hay group’ most often stayed in the hypogeum of Ramses IV …” The decorations of the Theban tombs of Hay’s expedition are – it seems (they are unfortunately not yet published) – among the most delicious and the most precise! Five hundred twenty-nine pieces from the collection of antiquities he had built up were sold to the British Museum for the sum of £1,000 after his death.
This is a sketch for a mural depicting a young woman seated under a vine-covered arbour nursing a baby. With her hair tied atop her head, she appears naked except for a veil (or is that a scarf to carry the child?), elaborate sandals, jewellery, and a belt. Its upholstered stool has a particular shape.
Below is the fragmentary representation of a servant, whose earring and partially shaved hairstyle suggest her Nubian origin: she holds out a mirror and a kohl tube with her applicator stick.
As the same vine leaves surround her, it is likely that she is also under the pavilion, presenting these objects to the young mother, who retired under the arbour, takes care of her newborn, and regains her strength. It is perhaps in the purification phase.
This ostracon, dated to the 19th or 20th dynasty, is 16.70 cm high, 16.70 cm wide and 8.90 cm thick. It came from Deir el-Medina and was acquired by the British Museum in 1843 when Somerset Lowry-Corry, 2nd Earl of Belmore, put up for sale the collection he had built up during his stay and his excavations. in Egypt in 1816-1818.
The little + of Egyptophile: The ostraca (in the singular: ostracon) are shards, shards or fragments of limestone, or even terracotta, which were, in antiquity, used by artists as graphic supports for their “essays”. The papyrus was indeed then too expensive and reserved for more ‘noble’ uses… Thus, these “ostraca”, which they found in profusion in the sides of the mountain, were the support on which they worked their preparatory sketches, on which they practised, started again, before reaching excellence and finally being admitted to work in situ in the royal tombs. They come mostly from this place, which in antiquity was called Set Maât her imenty Ouaset – the Place of Truth to the west of Thebes – and today known as the village of artisans of Deir el-Medina. The excavation of its “Grand Puits” by Bernard Bruyère in 1948-1949 made it possible to find more than 5000 ostraca!
Shell-Shaped Pendant With the Name of Sesostris III
This shell-shaped amulet is made of a thin gold leaf, pressed onto a mould and inscribed with the name Sesostris III in a cartouche. The interior is strongly concave. The suspension ring had come loose and was repositioned without much care.
Certain peculiarities in the “spelling” of the inscription cast doubt on its authenticity; however, this does not invalidate the authenticity of this piece because this type of shell, not inscribed, was common as an amulet during the Middle Kingdom.
Natural oyster shells with royal names may have been a military decoration. The shell represented here is probably of the species ‘Avicula (Meleagrina) margaritacea’.
This 5 cm high and 4.5 cm wide pendant was bequeathed to the British Museum in 1939 by Sir Robert Ludwig Mond.
The little + of Egyptophile: Robert Ludwig Mond (1867 – 1938) was a wealthy chemical industrialist. Following a meeting in London with Percy E. Newberry, he went to Egypt in 1901. It was the beginning of a passion to which he would henceforth devote most of his leisure time and a good part of his fortune. The “Who was Who in Egyptology” states: “In 1902, he undertook to clear and record the Theban tombs and discovered new ones. He personally supervised excavations in 1902-5 and 1923-6; for these works, he was assisted by Newberry, Carter, E.J. Mackay, Emery, Frankfort, F.W Green, Weigall, Yeivin and others”… For nearly 40 years, his resources enabled him to take charge of the costly cleanings and restorations of several tombs and landmarks…
The figure wears a long, heavy wig with a lotus stem placed on the top of the head; the flower blooms on the forehead, slightly above the central parting of the hair. On the wig is a decorated headband unless it is a tiara. Strands of hair, individualized, were braided up to shoulder height, then doubled on each side, with other braids separated but tighter and shorter at the tip. She wears a large and wide pearl necklace made up of several rows that go up high on the neck. She holds her left arm crossed over her body, with a sistrum in her left hand. On the left wrist, we notice the patterned sleeve of his garment, which also covers the left arm and shoulder. His face is round and fleshy, with large eyes and thick arched eyebrows. There appears to be an incised line above the right eye to indicate a fold of flesh, which is not clearly marked on the left side. The nose is long and slender, with a small cupid’s bow visible above the upper lip. The lips are thick, with the left outer corner slightly higher than the right side. On the back are the remains of an inscribed pillar with two wide columns of text, the right edge now damaged and the lower part of the two columns lost.
In addition to the lack of the lower body and right side, the fingertips of the left hand and the nose are damaged.
Although this is not known to depict a royal or elite woman, it has been suggested that using this dark, hard stone may indicate that the statue was likely intended for a temple rather than a funerary setting (Russmann 2001). Early sources also report the provenance of this statue as Thebes (Budge 1922; though “unproven” in PM VIII; Russmann 2001).
This bust, dated from the 19th dynasty, is 31 cm high (34 with the base), 18 cm wide and weighs 14.30 kg. It was acquired by the British Museum in 1853 from London art and antique dealer Harry Osborn Cureton.
The little + of Egyptophile: The initials “PM” cited in the questioning relating to the statue’s provenance refer to the “Porter & Moss”, which owes its name to its two primary authors: Bertha Porter and Rosalind Moss. The colossal work they have produced is thus presented by the Griffith Institute for which they worked: “The Topographical Bibliography of Hieroglyphic Texts, Statues, Reliefs and Paintings of Ancient Egypt (also known as Porter & Moss) is an essential and comprehensive reference resource for Egyptologists, presenting and analyzing published and unpublished information on ancient Egyptian monuments. The first seven volumes are topographically arranged and cover the whole of Egypt and regions beyond, including Nubia (southernmost modern Egypt and northern Sudan). Volume VIII deals with the important body of material in museums and private collections without provenance.”
Akhenaten sits casually on a low-backed padded chair with side struts in the shape of the ancient royal symbol for the unification of Upper and Lower Egypt, which is partly hidden by the long sash of his pleated kilt. The disc of Aten was above him, in the centre of the stele. The hands at the ends of his spokes are stretched out to bless his self-proclaimed son. One of Akhenaton’s hands is raised, apparently towards a small figure in front of him, who could be one of the six daughters he had with Nefertiti. It is almost certain that the whole scene showed Nefertiti sitting across from her husband and probably some of their daughters as well. Akhenaten’s name is written in cartouches in front of his face. The delicacy of the features and the round chest prompted some of the first observers to suggest that this represented Nefertiti (whose name appears with that of Akhenaten in the inscriptions on the frame). Still, they’re just a toned-down version of his lean, oddly androgynous physique. Specific details, such as his large eyes with heavy lids, suggest that the stele dates from the end of his reign. He is depicted with a short, round, curly wig, which is unusual for this ruler. This fragment is reconstructed by reassembling two broken pieces. Traces of paint are still visible: blue on the king’s wig, the hieroglyphs and the dividing lines, and red on the king’s body, the ribbons, the belt and the cushion.
This fragmentary painted limestone stele is 28 cm high, including its base, and 14.7 cm wide. It comes from excavations in 1932 in Amarna by the Egypt Exploration Society, which then donated to the British Museum.
The little + of Egyptophile: Amenhotep IV is the son of Amenhotep III and Queen Tiyi. He ascended the throne of the Double Country on his father’s death around 1349 BC. J.-C. He left Thebes to build a new city: Akhetaton – the horizon of Aten – today Tell el-Amarna. As for Nefertiti, she is at his side from year 4 to year 14 of his reign, which will last 17 years. And with regard to this very particular “Amarna” art, Georges Bénédite wrote in 1906: “In El-Amarna everything changes, and realism reigns supreme. If we want to see what the resources of Egyptian art could be, freed from all obstacles, what his observant and satirical genius was to give, and his intimate sense of expression, that’s where you have to go.”…
“no such thing as chance, and that every act and every expression has its own meaning, determined by the inner feelings and wishes of the individual.” ~ C.G. Jung, Psychology of the Unconscious
Before the sixty-ninth rotation of my presence on this Earth around the sun (it could be tomorrow evening at eight o’clock, my mother once told me, as a homeborn child), I wanted to open some doors (hopefully not closing any) to stop straining my humbleness and let my ego speaks!
As you may be aware, I’ve been dealing with a lot of stress in my personal life recently. This has made it difficult to maintain a sense of balance, and I’ve felt quite weighed down as a result. Because I tried to care deeply about the happiness of those around me (on the media), and I’ve experienced some conflicts in my interactions there.
The word is “Expectation, or await”! Let me explain;
I’ve had many talents I couldn’t fully utilize throughout my life. This may have been due to my mother’s lack of attention or because I chose to prioritize helping my brother Al achieve success. Despite this, I’ve always been amazed by the number of highly admirable, educated, professional, and well-known friends and acquaintances I have – both online and in my personal life. I don’t hold any titles, haven’t published any books, or possess any highly professional licenses.
I have a clear memory of my journey to becoming an actor. It all began when I met some professional actors by chance and asked them if I could join their group. They invited me to observe their work, which I did despite not being very young anymore. After watching them critically, they allowed me to participate in a temporary production. Surprisingly, I performed better than all of them! I have had the opportunity to perform in various productions, including stage performances, TV shows, and two movies. However, I had to leave due to the constraints and disruptions imposed by the Islamic regime. Following our escape from Iran, I provided my full support to Al in his writing endeavours. After his passing, I found myself struggling to rediscover who I was, both in the past and present.
And after going back and forth, I ended up on WP and made many star friends. However, there is an issue with handling each other and the “expectation” involved. Due to stress, I couldn’t read all the posts from my favourite writers, and as I don’t like leaving cliche comments, I just left them without. Some friends understood my situation, but others did not (I even heard teasing when I apologized).
People can become so absorbed in their own lives that they assume everyone is in the same situation. It’s important to take a step back and realize that there are many versions of what it means to struggle. Sometimes, simply clicking the like button or keeping silent is more meaningful than leaving a meaningless comment. Anyhow, I will try to make this not longer than it is; I paste a copy of a post on Facebook by one of my dear worthy friends, Isa Bel. May it help all Leos to understand themselves better.
LEO
Do you have any planets in Leo? Here is a good description of the archetype, written by Astrolocherry
The world is a stage for Leo, and they play multiple characters with ease. The role of life is a performance, and Leo absolutely enriches their environment with creative expression and sunny exuberance. Leo is the symphony of the first four signs coming together. There is more to Leo than superiority and dramatized scenes for attention. They are a fairytale story of their own, the character God used for all the greatest stories.
The Leo is a cabaret. Their striking impression becomes the sun in every room, radiating the light and catching every set of eyes. This is the Leo artist illuminating their solar dance in rapturous self-expression. Maybe they paint, sing, or act. Or perhaps they just wield divine creative genius in their pure being.
Pride emanates in admirable self-confidence, and self-presentation is important and vivid.
When another stage is set, the Leo’s heart becomes sultan. They are hopelessly romantic, impassioned, reactive, and generous. Every action is inflamed by the beat of the heart. At this moment, Leo is the nurse who soothes the vulnerable or counsels friends. And for all the remarks of egocentrism, Leo is admirably empathetic, often sacrificing their own well-being to rescue a friend or care for somebody.
There are good skills of mediation in Leo and a heartbeat that plays a gentle lullaby. Now she wants to save the world. This is the side of Leo that weeps over the news and the condition of everything.
When the curtains are pulled, Leo’s emotions internalize; with nobody awake to watch, Leo can crumble.
Loneliness becomes like walls, incarcerating and relentless. There is severe, responsive sensitivity that somewhat drives the individual’s incessant need for validation and trembling fears of abandonment. This side of the Leo longs to cradle baby cubs and fall into the arms of a protective lover.
The inner child is raw and wounded here. This is when they look into the mirror and see a frightened child in the body of a full-grown adult. And this intimate bond with the inner child sets another stage for Leo, where they become the teacher, the guardian, and the source of amusement. There is a golden glow in Leo that seems to draw children close. And they seem to have a natural way with young people, often inspiring with leadership and amusing with play.
The Leo never quite loses the graces and the faults of youth. The Leo never follows a script, but the red carpet is always ready to be rolled out. This is the infinite motion picture.
Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I could write this article. You might wonder why and argue that we just returned from a fantastic vacation and were excited to use our newly renovated kitchen. Unfortunately, things didn’t go as smoothly as we had hoped. First to say;
Whenever I travel, I face a major issue of leaving my work behind at home. As a struggling artist in a world of affluence, I only have my smartphone to work with while travelling (if I would come to it), which isn’t as effective as my PC. Thus, I cannot function efficiently and stay on top of things. While taking a break may seem ideal, I often return home to a pile of posts and emails that need to be checked. Unfortunately, other issues seem to constantly follow me.
Anyway, in the beginning, we noticed a few minor errors in the construction of the kitchen, as well as some scratches on the “brand-new” floor🤓. However, we have scheduled the installer to come and fix these issues on Monday. Though the surprises kept on marching forward!
The first was a waterfall I found in the basement ceiling last Friday; it was right under our bathroom, next to the kitchen. So, we immediately called the emergency assistance to locate the source of the leak; “maybe” it happened because the new kitchen was being built and the kitchen would have to be dismantled, he said!! Shock and shock again: first, after almost two weeks of camping in your living room until the kitchen was finished, and now again? Secondly, the house owner certainly does not take over these repair costs, and we have to argue with the IKEA construction company.
But thank goodness, after drilling here and there, it has become clear that it is not from the kitchen after all, but the pipe under the bathtub is broken according to old age.
Well, we have planned a trip to the North Sea. It’d be all right, said the Master: It would be possible if we leave the keys there; the repairs will have happened when we return; how gorgeous! But that was too nice to be like everyone dreams of: yesterday we arrived at a dusty construction, still working site!
Although some progress was made in putting together the bathroom together to some extent by the evening, we (my wife mostly) had to clean and dust off almost the entire apartment and hallway.
To summarize, we reside temporarily until Monday, when the technicians and construction teams will arrive to resolve any issues. Despite the circumstances, we still enjoy life, isn’t it a good life?
We just can hope for better circumstances and that the masters of arts, like “Gone With the Wind” or other artists, give a blessing towards the future!! 😉😎🙏💖
Honestly, I never envisioned myself writing a trilogy on this subject. Yet, here I am. While the first two entries were brief updates on my situation, I feel compelled to elaborate further and shed more light on this occurrence. I cited a quote from Dr Jung on “change” as we recently upgraded our kitchen. To be frank, I usually resist change unless it’s necessary. I’m content with older things as long as they still work. Thus, I saw no reason to remodel our kitchen since it was still working properly.
Of course, there is another quote from Jung about this subject which I admire as well:
With heartfelt thanks to Petra Glimmdall
Anyway, my adorable wife, though, has a different approach. She is not very patient and cannot tolerate things for too long. For example, our kitchen was almost thirty years old ( I must admit it is aged!), and she couldn’t stand it anymore. Being the boss most of the time, she took action, and I had to play the role of the working-class hero. 😎😉
Before ☝ Afterwards👇
I must acknowledge that all the efforts have paid off, and the outcome appears satisfactory, potentially lasting another 30 years!
As a follow-up, I would like to discuss the impact of mental exercises after engaging in physically demanding activities. Some individuals may not require extensive physical exertion to achieve this effect. Engaging in physical activity allows the mind, or more accurately, the soul, to relax. As a result, one may feel wholly drained with no creative thoughts flowing, but instead, a sense of inner peace. I believe this is valuable information to keep in mind.
We may have less money, but we are much happier having a brand-new kitchen. It feels like a well-deserved reward. 😅💖🙏
After that achievement, I’ll be kidnapped again the following weekend, including the week ahead, towards the North Sea, so you know! And I say goodbye to you with a two-chord song from my buddy fellow, John.
One of the most beautiful and sensitive tales ever written for children by one of the most sensitive authors in the world: Oscar Wilde. He was definitely different from others: unpredictable!
I’ve been coming across Oscar Wilde’s literary works and fairy tales quite often lately. I am pleased to present a captivating excerpt from one of their beautiful tales. The Selfish Giant; chapter three.
“Who hath dared to wound thee?” cried the Giant; “tell me that I may take my big sword and slay him.”
“Nay!” answered the child, “but these are the wounds of Love.”
“Who art thou?” said the Giant, and a strange awe fell on him, and he knelt before the little child.
And the child smiled at the Giant and said to him, “You let me play once in your garden; today, you shall come with me to my garden, which is Paradise.”
And when the children ran in that afternoon, they found the Giant lying dead under the tree, all covered with white blossoms.
Would you like to tackle the entire third chapter? Here it is, enjoy.
“The Selfish Giant”, Oscar Wilde
Then the Spring came, and all over the country, there were little blossoms and little birds. Only in the garden of the Selfish Giant, it was still Winter. The birds did not care to sing in it as there were no children, and the trees forgot to blossom. Once a beautiful flower put its head out from the grass, but when it saw the notice board, it was so sorry for the children that it slipped back into the ground again and went off to sleep. The only people who were pleased were the Snow and the Frost. “Spring has forgotten this garden,” they cried, “so we will live here all year round.” The Snow covered the grass with her great white cloak, and the Frost painted all the trees silver. Then they invited the North Wind to stay with them, and he came. He was wrapped in furs, and he roared all day about the garden and blew the chimney pots down. “This is a delightful spot,” he said, “we must ask the Hail on a visit.” So the Hail came. Every day for three hours, he rattled on the roof of the castle till he broke most of the slates, and then he ran round and round the garden as fast as he could go. He was dressed in grey, and his breath was like ice.
“I cannot understand why the Spring is so late in coming,” said the Selfish Giant as he sat at the window and looked out at his cold white garden; “I hope there will be a change in the weather.”
But the Spring never came, nor the Summer. The Autumn gave golden fruit to every garden, but to the Giant’s garden, she gave none. “He is too selfish,” she said. So it was always Winter there, and the North Wind, and the Hail, and the Frost, and the Snow danced about through the trees.
One morning the Giant was lying awake in bed when he heard some lovely music. It sounded so sweet to his ears that he thought it must be the King’s musicians passing by. It was really only a little linnet singing outside his window, but it was so long since he had heard a bird sing in his garden that it seemed to him to be the most beautiful music in the world. Then the Hail stopped dancing over his head, and the North Wind ceased roaring, and a delicious perfume came to him through the open casement. “I believe the Spring has come at last,” said the Giant, and he jumped out of bed and looked out.
What did he see?
He saw a most wonderful sight. Through a little hole in the wall, the children had crept in, and they were sitting in the branches of the trees. In every tree that he could see, there was a little child. And the trees were so glad to have the children back again that they had covered themselves with blossoms and were waving their arms gently above the children’s heads. The birds were flying about and twittering with delight, and the flowers were looking up through the green grass and laughing. It was a lovely scene; only in one corner, it was still Winter. It was the farthest corner of the garden, and in it was standing a little boy. He was so small that he could not reach up to the branches of the tree, and he was wandering all around it, crying bitterly. The poor tree was still quite covered with Frost and Snow, and the North Wind was blowing and roaring above it. “Climb up! Little boy,” said the Tree, and it bent its branches down as low as it could; but the boy was too tiny.
And the Giant’s heart melted as he looked out. “How selfish I have been!” he said; “now I know why the Spring would not come here. I will put that poor little boy on the top of the tree, and then I will knock down the wall, and my garden shall be the children’s playground forever and ever.” He was really very sorry for what he had done.
So he crept downstairs and opened the front door quite softly, and went out into the garden. But when the children saw him, they were so frightened that they all ran away, and the garden became Winter again. Only the little boy did not run, for his eyes were so full of tears that he did not see the Giant coming. And the Giant stole up behind him, took him gently in his hand, and put him up into the tree. And the tree broke at once into blossom, and the birds came and sang on it, and the little boy stretched out his two arms and flung them round the Giant’s neck, and kissed him. And the other children, when they saw that the Giant was no longer wicked, came running back, and the Spring came with them. “It is your garden now, little children,” said the Giant, and he took a great axe and knocked down the wall. And when the people were going to market at twelve o’clock, they found the Giant playing with the children in the most beautiful garden they had ever seen.
All day long, they played, and in the evening, they came to the Giant to bid him goodbye.
“But where is your little companion?” he said: “the boy I put into the tree.” The Giant loved him the best because he had kissed him.
“We don’t know,” answered the children; “he has gone away.”
“You must tell him to be sure and come here tomorrow,” said the Giant. But the children said they did not know where he lived and had never seen him before, and the Giant felt very sad.
Every afternoon, when school was over, the children came and played with the Giant. But the little boy whom the Giant loved was never seen again. The Giant was very kind to all the children, yet he longed for his first little friend and often spoke of him. “How I would like to see him!” he used to say.
Years went over, and the Giant grew very old and feeble. He could not play about any more, so he sat in a huge armchair, watched the children at their games, and admired his garden. “I have many beautiful flowers,” he said, “but the children are the most beautiful flowers of all.”
One winter morning, he looked out his window as he dressed. He did not hate the Winter now, for he knew it was merely the Spring asleep and the flowers were resting.
Suddenly he rubbed his eyes in wonder and looked and looked. It certainly was a marvellous sight. In the farthest corner of the garden was a tree entirely covered with lovely white blossoms. Its branches were all golden, and silver fruit hung down from them, and underneath it stood the little boy he had loved.
Downstairs ran the Giant in great joy and out into the garden. He hastened across the grass and came near to the child. And when he came pretty close, his face grew red with anger, and he said, “Who hath dared to wound thee?” For on the palms of the child’s hands were the prints of two nails, and the prints of two were on the little feet.
“Who hath dared to wound thee?” cried the Giant; “tell me that I may take my big sword and slay him.”
“Nay!” answered the child, “but these are the wounds of Love.”
“Who art thou?” said the Giant, and a strange awe fell on him, and he knelt before the little child.
And the child smiled at the Giant and said to him, “You let me play once in your garden; today, you shall come with me to my garden, which is Paradise.”
And when the children ran in that afternoon, they found the Giant lying dead under the tree, all covered with white blossoms.
We have completed several tasks in our kitchen renovation project so far. We removed the old cabinets and resolved any leftover issues, sealed all the gaps, painted the walls, and replaced the flooring with new laminate. We are eagerly anticipating the arrival of our new kitchen cabinets next week, and we expect them to be of better quality than the cabinets of the federal government.😉🤗🤟
Honestly, if I had to choose a prophet and a holy book, I would go for Carl Gustav Jung and The Red Book, respectively. In The Red Book, Jung speaks about his encounter with the Self, his “Self”, and his journey through the desert, much like a prophet, accompanied by his ego but ultimately alone.
As I have shared of them here, Carl Jung, in his books, wrote his explanations in a way that could be understood, or at least he tried to do so. But in sharing his insights (as he did in The Red Book), Carl Jung aimed for clarity and understanding. However, his words carry a strong emotional resonance that may not be immediately apparent to some readers. It’s important to read between the lines and approach his ideas carefully rather than taking them at face value. (I have some examples on FB’s Jungian groups; I wonder what some people are doing there?!)
I want to share a section of this remarkable book. Let us strive to be mindful of our surroundings and reflect on how they align with our inner emotions.
(The images are written in the original language)
We are miserable without you and wear out our songs. We spoke all the words that our hearts gave us. What else do you want? What else shall we fulfil for you? We open every door for you. We bent our knees where you want us to do. We go to all points of the compass according to your wish. We carry up what is below, and we turn what is above into what is below, as you commend. We give and take according to your wish. We wanted to turn rightbut go left, obedient to your sign. We rise, and we fall; we sway, and we remain still; we see, and we are blind; we hear, and we are deaf; we say yes and no, always hearing your word. We do not comprehend, and we live incomprehensibly. We do not love, and we live the unloved. And we evolve around ourselves again and comprehend. We love and live the loved, true to your law.
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Come to us, we who are willing from our own will. Come to us, we who understand you from our own spirit. Come to us, we who will warm you at our own Fire. Come to us, we who will heal you with our own art. Come to us, we who will produce you out of our own body. Come child, to father and mother.
We ask Earth. We ask Heaven. We ask the Sea. We ask the Wind. We ask the Fire. We looked for you with all the people. We looked for you with all the kings. We looked for you with all the wise. We looked for you in our own heads and hearts. And we found you in the egg.
I have slain a precious human sacrifice for you, a youth and old man. I have cut my skin with a knife. I have sprinkled your altar with my own blood. I have banished my father and mother so that you can live with me. I turned my night into day and went about midday like a sleepwalker. I have overthrown all the Gods, broken the laws, eaten the impure. I have thrown down my sword and dressed in woman’s clothing. I shattered my firm castle and played like a child in the sand. I saw warriors form into line of battle, and I destroyed my suit of armour with a hammer. I planned my field and let the fruit decay. I made small everything that was great and made everything great that was small. I exchanged my furthest goal for the nearest, and so I am ready.
It has always been a mystery why the Egyptians painted their gods or pharaohs from the side, not the front. Although the whole face is more beautiful, maybe painting the entire face needs twice as much as painting the profile! Is it the reason why? I don’t think so.
Here is an article with the same question and may have some answers!
The characters presented on the Egyptian monuments are always aside. Although depicting people from the front was also possible in ancient Egypt, we only remember subjects in profile. Explanations. Everyone has in mind the drawings on the walls of the tombs of the pharaohs, on the wine jars or any other object accompanying the kings on their journey after death—humans, cats, horses, chariots, everyone aside, painted from their best side. First, Let’s correct what our memories tell us: the Egyptians did not draw only in profile. They also knew how to draw people and animals from the front and three-quarters. However, the vast majority of objects that have come down to us or brought up from the sands by Egyptologists are decorated with hieroglyphs, in other words writing from the time of the pharaohs. So-called pictorial writing is made of drawings where the subjects of a scene or a story are systematically represented in profile.
Then a problem arises because the drawing in profile gives less detail than a representation of the face; the Egyptians, therefore, developed bypass techniques to reveal elements and replace perspective.
A vanishing point defines perspective; it is about showing depth, that the world we see is not flat, and that there are several planes, allowing space and time to evolve from one another. For example, if we observe the painting The Raft of the Medusa: the gaze sweeps over a rickety boat (which, well, enhanced by its sail is reminiscent of a pyramid), and then the eyes follow the characters from front to back, following an arm raised above all and end up falling on a boat far, far away. The story is told: the raft, the castaways, the hope of the ship. We travel through space and seize the time.
On a drawing executed from the side, perspective does not exist: Egyptologists then speak of respective. The Egyptians used this method not for lack of technique but because there was no space or time. With hieroglyphs, “there is no time, there is no space; we are everywhere and all the time” reminds us of Bénédicte Lhoyer. Egypt is eternal there. It is defined as such on objects adorned with hieroglyphs, perceived as such by the person who admires them.
In this world of respective immutable history, the Egyptians juxtaposed another technique to transcribe movement and time: elements are painted from the front on subjects from the side, thus making visible what was invisible. For example, an eye appears from the front on a face in profile; it can then be represented wide open to signify that the character is doing something. A torso will also be defined from the front, and the chest will be sideways, even if it means not completely respecting the human anatomy. The scribe then uses the limbs to signify always more things: a forward left leg translates function and social status, and showing the two legs together for a lady means that she does not need to work, so she is of high rank. The position of the arms, of what can be held in the hands, also has a specific meaning. A character can, like the boxes of a comic book, come back several times on the same wall or a series of papyri to describe each significant moment of the story of his life.
Let’s summarize. Why did the Egyptians always draw in profile?
To tell the truth, the Egyptians drew in profile the first intention. Then they added facial elements: the writing in hieroglyphs to transcribe the eternity of the Egyptian people, the details of the face to feed the story and bring context to the scene represented.
The question of Egyptian drawings is addressed in the program “Les p’titsboats” of June 04, 2023, asked by Jezabel, to whom Bénédicte Lhoyer, Doctor in Egyptology and lecturer at the École du Louvre, replied.
Experts also answer the following questions: Who says the name of metro stations, a person or a robot? Why do lions have manes? Or why is the red carpet red?
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