Terri Windling's Blog, page 202

Reflections on time

“I know this much: that there is objective time, but also subjective
time, the kind you wear on the inside of your wrist, next to where the
pulse lies. And this personal time, which is the true time, is measured
in your relationship to memory.” 
- Julian Barnes (from The Sense of an Ending)

"In the distance of my years I cover myself with time
Like a blanket which enfolds me with the layers of my life.
What can I tell you except that I have gone
nowhere and everywhere?
What can I tell you except that I have not begun
my journey now that it is through?
All that I ever was and am yet to be
lies within me now this way."

- Nancy Wood (from Many Winters: Prose and Poetry of the Pueblos)

Photos above: A Sunday walk through the secret Hill Garden & Pergola, an Arts-&-Crafts gem tucked into the western end of London's Hampstead Heath. The city receeds, mist cloaks the surrounding woodland, and time stands still. 

Tunes for a Monday Morning

Today's tunes are all from the fantastic new EP by Dartmoor musician & songwriter Seth Lakeman, containing five of his songs recorded live with BBC Concert Orchestra here in Devon in March, 2012.

Above: "The Bold Knight." Below: "Kitty Jay." Both come from his first album (recorded in a cottage near The Warren House Inn up on the moor), and are based on local Dartmoor legends.

The final tune (below) is a wonderful rendition "King and Country."

The other two songs on the EP are equally fine; you can hear them here and here.

I'm actually writing this post on Saturday morning (setting it up for automated posting on Monday) as I'm about to head in to London for the next few days, where Victoria and I are going to catch the Pre-Raphaelite exhibition at the Tate before it closes.  I'll be back in the office again on Wednesday.

This week's tunes were inspired, by the way, not only by the release of Seth's beautiful new EP but also by spotting Seth, with his wife and dog, out walking on the hill behind my studio this morning. Alas, I was (uncharacteristically) too shy to bustle up and say hello, and Tilly was (uncharacteristically) too busy sniffing some animal's track to run up to the other dog, hoping to play. But it was a nice surprise to him on our hill (as he lives on the other side of Dartmoor), and it reminded me that I've been meaning to share these new videos.... And here they are.

On writing

“What is the purpose of writing? For me personally, it is really to explain the mystery of life, and the mystery of life includes, of
course, the personal, the political, the forces that make us what we are
while there's another force from inside battling to make us something
else.” ― Nadine Gordimer

“In order to write the book you want to write, in the end you have to
become the person you need to become to write that book.”  ― Junot Díaz

“Why am I compelled to write?...Because the world I create in the
writing compensates for what the real world does not give me. By writing
I put order in the world, give it a handle so I can grasp it. I write
because life does not appease my appetites and anger...To become more
intimate with myself and you. To discover myself, to preserve myself, to
make myself, to achieve self-autonomy. To dispell the myths that I am a
mad prophet or a poor suffering soul. To convince myself that I am
worthy and that what I have to say is not a pile of shit...Finally I
write because I'm scared of writing, but I'm more scared of not
writing.”  ― Gloria E. Anzaldúa 

"In the author's mind there bubbles up every now and then the material for a story. For me it invariably begins with mental pictures. This ferment leads to nothing unless it is accompanied with the longing for a Form: verse or prose, short story, novel, play or what not. When these two things click you have have the author's impulse complete. It is now a thing inside him pawing to get out. He longs to see that bubbling stuff pouring into that Form as the housewife longs to see the new jam pouring into the clean jam jar. This nags him all day long and gets in the way of his work and his sleep and his meals. It's like being in love." - C.S. Lewis

Images above: Day breaks over Chagford and surrounding fields bright with winter rain.

“What is the purpose of writing? For me personally, it ...

“What is the purpose of writing? For me personally, it is really to explain the mystery of life, and the mystery of life includes, of
course, the personal, the political, the forces that make us what we are
while there's another force from inside battling to make us something
else.” ― Nadine Gordimer

“In order to write the book you want to write, in the end you have to
become the person you need to become to write that book.”  ― Junot Díaz

“Why am I compelled to write?...Because the world I create in the
writing compensates for what the real world does not give me. By writing
I put order in the world, give it a handle so I can grasp it. I write
because life does not appease my appetites and anger...To become more
intimate with myself and you. To discover myself, to preserve myself, to
make myself, to achieve self-autonomy. To dispell the myths that I am a
mad prophet or a poor suffering soul. To convince myself that I am
worthy and that what I have to say is not a pile of shit...Finally I
write because I'm scared of writing, but I'm more scared of not
writing.”  ― Gloria E. Anzaldúa 

Images above: Day breaks over Chagford and surrounding fields bright with winter rain.

Winter's Tales

“Winter then in its early and clear stages, was a purifying engine that
ran unhindered over city and country, alerting the stars to sparkle
violently and shower their silver light into the arms of bare upreaching
trees. It was a mad and beautiful thing that scoured raw the souls of
animals and man, driving them before it until they loved to run." 
- Mark Helprin (from Winter's Tale)

Like some winter animal the moon licks the salt of your hand,
Yet still your hair foams violet as a lilac tree
From which a small wood-owl calls.
  -  Johannes Bobrowski

It's dark now when I climb up to my studio each morning, and dark again when the work day ends. Coming and going, I hear the owls calling out to me from the shadows of the woods. By dark, the hill is another world altogether. It belongs to them.

Images above: "Trolls in the Starlight" by the Swedish illustrator John Bauer (1882-1918); dawn breaking on the hill behind my studio; "The Falling Stars" by Catherine Hyde, in Cornwall; and two owl-women by artists here in Chagford: "A Call in the Night" by Virginia Lee and "Slova Sova" by Rima Staines.

“And suddenly you know: It's time to start someth...

“And suddenly you know: It's time to start something new and trust the magic of beginnings.” - Meister Eckhart

Indeed.

Music for a Wednesday morning...

(Since we missed our Monday Tune this week.)

On the cusp of a new year...

“At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from
another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of
those who have lighted the flame within us.” – Albert Schweitzer

At the end of the old year, the start of the new, I walk the hills with Tilly and remember them all, each and every one.

I'm off to spend the holidays with family and friends, ...

I'm off to spend the holidays with family and friends, and will be back in the studio on January 2nd. I wish you all warmth, light, quiet joys and gentle magic during these last days of December.

On Winter Solstice

"It is the function of art to renew our
perception. What we are familiar with we cease to see. The writer shakes
up the familiar scene, and as if by magic, we see a new meaning in it."   - Anaïs Nin (from The Diaries)

"You're an artist ... that means you see
the world in ways that other people don't. It's your gift, to see the
beauty and the horror in ordinary things. It doesn't make you
crazy--just different. There's nothing wrong with being different."  - Cassandra Clare (City of Bones)