Ponder Anew

Yesterday, as I was reading a book of poetry outside the library, a friend of mine walked by and asked in jest, "Are you pondering anew what the Almighty can do?" I laughed at his joke and kept on reading. Today, though, as I was reading another book outside and gazing at the grand tree that was providing shade for me I began to really think about that old hymn and verse. This week has been fast paced and rather stressful at times; lots of new faces and names and very little time for rest. But today I sat back and practiced that age old and often forgotten Christian virtue: rest (well...perhaps its not a virtue, but certainly a worthwhile practice). Today I rested and pondered anew what the Almighty can do.

T.S. Eliot

Tonight was the final meeting of my summer book club, and it didn't disappoint. Neither did the words of T.S. Eliot, whose Four Quartets we discussed. I sometimes forget how much I miss discussion of great books and ideas until I am doing it and can't imagine how I did without before. Nevertheless, tonight was harmonious. We discussed everything from Shakespeare to Anglo-Catholicism to Terrence Malick and film, and everything in-between.

However, it seems strange to be commenting on something just as or after it has happened (a subject we discussed tonight), and so I am going to end this post here with a section from the Four Quartets, though it also seems a crime only to read a section.

IV 

The dove descending breaks the air
With flame of incandescent terror
Of which the tongues declare
The one discharge from sin and error,
The only home, or else despair
     Lies in the choice of pyre or pyre-
     To be redeemed from fire by fire.

Who then devised the torment? Love.
Love is the unfamiliar Name
Behind the hands that wove
The intolerable shirt of flame
Which human power cannot remove.
     We only live, only suspire
     Consumed by either fire or fire.

~T.S. Eliot, Little Gidding

Sufjan and Wasps

Today as I drove about, working my way through the days endless responsibilities, a moment of peace came over me. I was sitting in a parking lot, waiting for my mother to come out to the car, and listening to this song:

Just about a minute into the song a wasp lighted on the window beside my head. Usually this would freak me out a bit (bad run in with a wasp as a child!), but today it didn't. The wasp was beautiful. It seemed almost to know I was listening to a song in which its kind was featured, and it demanded my attention. And yet, it wasn't demanding. It simply danced along and flew away a few moments later. In those few moments I thought of nothing else but the beauty of the music and of the wasp itself, and for those moments I was in paradise.

Also, here is a picture Sufjan and another one of my favorite musicians, St. Vincent (Annie Clark):

This photo just made me happy, so I thought I'd share!

In other news: I am very excited about an Arthurian Literature class I will be taking this fall! It took a little bit of work, but I claimed the last spot! This is beginning to have the look of a great semester.

Summer Movie

Ok, so it isn't your usual summer blockbuster...it's a three and a half hour masterpiece by Russian filmmaker Andrey Tarkovskiy! I watched it a couple of nights ago and was blown away by both its scale and imagination. At its heart, it is a film about the role of the artist in a time of horrid, senseless violence - a dilemma Tarkovskiy knew all too well growing up under the grotesque oppression of Stalin.

Andrei Rublev may seem a daunting task at three and a half black and white hours, but Tarkovskiy is too skilled a filmmaker to allow the audience room to grumble. This is not to say that the pace is quick (far from it), but rather that Tarkovskiy and cinematographer Vadim Yusov employ so many innovative and unique styles of capturing the images that it is hard not to be engrossed throughout. Many of these shots can clearly be seen to have inspired modern filmmakers such as Peter Jackson and Terrence Malick.

One of the most memorable scenes is a recreation of the crucifixion of Christ in a Russian winter:

Despite a headache, being supremely tired, and misjudging the length of the film by about an hour (oops), I was riveted. What more can I say?