SONNET 99 THE FORWARD VIOLET: The forward violet thus did I chide

The forward violet thus did I chide:
Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet that smells,
If not from my love's breath? The purple pride
Which on thy soft cheek for complexion dwells
In my love's veins thou hast too grossly dy'd.
The lily I condemned for thy hand,
And buds of marjoram had stol'n thy hair;
The roses fearfully on thorns did stand,
One blushing shame, another white despair;
A third, nor red nor white, had stol'n of both,
And to his robbery had annexed thy breath;
But, for his theft, in pride of all his growth
A vengeful canker eat him up to death.
   More flowers I noted, yet I none could see,
   But sweet, or colour it had stol'n from thee.


SONNET INDEX


Mnemonic Image 




Memory Passage 

The CROSS is dragged behind the pale HORSE for my TERM OF LIFE because I tasted EVE'S APPLE and now have the POWER TO HURT like the CANKER IN THE FRAGRANT ROSE which is shivering under the FINGER OF THE THRONED QUEEN who asks me what FREEZINGS HAVE I FELT now that HEAVY SATURN has condemned the FORWARD VIOLET.

Couplet Imagery





Introductory




Q1:



Q2:



Q3:



Couplet:

 

SONNET 98 HEAVY SATURN: From you have I been absent in the spring

From you have I been absent in the spring,
When proud pied April, dressed in all his trim,
Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing,
That heavy Saturn laughed and leapt with him.
Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell
Of different flowers in odour and in hue,
Could make me any summer's story tell,
Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew:
Nor did I wonder at the lily's white,
Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose;
They were but sweet, but figures of delight,
Drawn after you, you pattern of all those.
   Yet seemed it winter still, and you away,
   As with your shadow I with these did play.

SONNET INDEX


Mnemonic Image 




Memory Passage 

The CROSS is dragged behind the pale HORSE for my TERM OF LIFE because I tasted EVE'S APPLE and now have the POWER TO HURT like the CANKER IN THE FRAGRANT ROSE which is shivering under the FINGER OF THE THRONED QUEEN who asks me what FREEZINGS HAVE I FELT now that HEAVY SATURN has condemned the FORWARD VIOLET.

Couplet Imagery





Introductory




Q1:



Q2:



Q3:



Couplet:

  

SONNET 97 FREEZINGS HAVE I FELT: How like a winter hath my absence been

How like a winter hath my absence been
From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen!
What old December's bareness everywhere!
And yet this time removed was summer's time;
The teeming autumn, big with rich increase,
Bearing the wanton burden of the prime,
Like widow'd wombs after their lords' decease:
Yet this abundant issue seemed to me
But hope of orphans, and unfathered fruit;
For summer and his pleasures wait on thee,
And, thou away, the very birds are mute:
   Or, if they sing, 'tis with so dull a cheer,
   That leaves look pale, dreading the winter's near.


SONNET INDEX


Mnemonic Image 




Memory Passage 

The CROSS is dragged behind the pale HORSE for my TERM OF LIFE because I tasted EVE'S APPLE and now have the POWER TO HURT like the CANKER IN THE FRAGRANT ROSE which is shivering under the FINGER OF THE THRONED QUEEN who asks me what FREEZINGS HAVE I FELT now that HEAVY SATURN has condemned the FORWARD VIOLET.

Couplet Imagery





Introductory




Q1:



Q2:



Q3:



Couplet:

 

SONNET 96 FINGER OF THRONED QUEEN: Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness

Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness;
Some say thy grace is youth and gentle sport;
Both grace and faults are lov'd of more and less:
Thou mak'st faults graces that to thee resort.
As on the finger of a throned queen
The basest jewel will be well esteem'd,
So are those errors that in thee are seen
To truths translated, and for true things deem'd.
How many lambs might the stern wolf betray,
If like a lamb he could his looks translate!
How many gazers mightst thou lead away,
If thou wouldst use the strength of all thy state!
   But do not so, I love thee in such sort,
   As thou being mine, mine is thy good report.



SONNET INDEX


Mnemonic Image 




Memory Passage 

The CROSS is dragged behind the pale HORSE for my TERM OF LIFE because I tasted EVE'S APPLE and now have the POWER TO HURT like the CANKER IN THE FRAGRANT ROSE which is shivering under the FINGER OF THE THRONED QUEEN who asks me what FREEZINGS HAVE I FELT now that HEAVY SATURN has condemned the FORWARD VIOLET.

Couplet Imagery





Introductory




Q1:



Q2:



Q3:



Couplet:

 

SONNET 95 CANKER IN THE FRAGRANT ROSE: How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame

How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame
Which, like a canker in the fragrant rose,
Doth spot the beauty of thy budding name!
O! in what sweets dost thou thy sins enclose.
That tongue that tells the story of thy days,
Making lascivious comments on thy sport,
Cannot dispraise, but in a kind of praise;
Naming thy name blesses an ill report.
O! what a mansion have those vices got
Which for their habitation chose out thee,
Where beauty's veil doth cover every blot
And all things turns to fair that eyes can see!
   Take heed, dear heart, of this large privilege;
   The hardest knife ill-used doth lose his edge.


SONNET INDEX


Mnemonic Image 




Memory Passage 

The CROSS is dragged behind the pale HORSE for my TERM OF LIFE because I tasted EVE'S APPLE and now have the POWER TO HURT like the CANKER IN THE FRAGRANT ROSE which is shivering under the FINGER OF THE THRONED QUEEN who asks me what FREEZINGS HAVE I FELT now that HEAVY SATURN has condemned the FORWARD VIOLET.

Couplet Imagery





Introductory




Q1:



Q2:



Q3:



Couplet:

 

SONNET 94 POWER TO HURT: They that have power to hurt, and will do none

They that have power to hurt, and will do none,
That do not do the thing they most do show,
Who, moving others, are themselves as stone,
Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow;
They rightly do inherit heaven's graces,
And husband nature's riches from expense;
They are the lords and owners of their faces,
Others, but stewards of their excellence.
The summer's flower is to the summer sweet,
Though to itself, it only live and die,
But if that flower with base infection meet,
The basest weed outbraves his dignity:
   For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds;
   Lilies that fester, smell far worse than weeds.


SONNET INDEX


Mnemonic Image 




Memory Passage 

The CROSS is dragged behind the pale HORSE for my TERM OF LIFE because I tasted EVE'S APPLE and now have the POWER TO HURT like the CANKER IN THE FRAGRANT ROSE which is shivering under the FINGER OF THE THRONED QUEEN who asks me what FREEZINGS HAVE I FELT now that HEAVY SATURN has condemned the FORWARD VIOLET.

Couplet Imagery





Introductory




Q1:



Q2:



Q3:



Couplet:

 

SONNET 93 EVE'S APPLE: So shall I live, supposing thou art true

So shall I live, supposing thou art true,
Like a deceived husband; so love's face
May still seem love to me, though altered new;
Thy looks with me, thy heart in other place:
For there can live no hatred in thine eye,
Therefore in that I cannot know thy change.
In many's looks, the false heart's history
Is writ in moods, and frowns, and wrinkles strange.
But heaven in thy creation did decree
That in thy face sweet love should ever dwell;
Whate'er thy thoughts, or thy heart's workings be,
Thy looks should nothing thence, but sweetness tell.
   How like Eve's apple doth thy beauty grow,
   If thy sweet virtue answer not thy show!



SONNET INDEX


Mnemonic Image 




Memory Passage 

The CROSS is dragged behind the pale HORSE for my TERM OF LIFE because I tasted EVE'S APPLE and now have the POWER TO HURT like the CANKER IN THE FRAGRANT ROSE which is shivering under the FINGER OF THE THRONED QUEEN who asks me what FREEZINGS HAVE I FELT now that HEAVY SATURN has condemned the FORWARD VIOLET.

Couplet Imagery





Introductory




Q1:



Q2:



Q3:



Couplet:

SONNET 92 TERM OF LIFE: ut do thy worst to steal thyself away

But do thy worst to steal thyself away,
For term of life thou art assured mine;
And life no longer than thy love will stay,
For it depends upon that love of thine.
Then need I not to fear the worst of wrongs,
When in the least of them my life hath end.
I see a better state to me belongs
Than that which on thy humour doth depend:
Thou canst not vex me with inconstant mind,
Since that my life on thy revolt doth lie.
O what a happy title do I find,
Happy to have thy love, happy to die!
   But what's so blessed-fair that fears no blot?
   Thou mayst be false, and yet I know it not.

SONNET INDEX


Mnemonic Image 




Memory Passage 

The CROSS is dragged behind the pale HORSE for my TERM OF LIFE because I tasted EVE'S APPLE and now have the POWER TO HURT like the CANKER IN THE FRAGRANT ROSE which is shivering under the FINGER OF THE THRONED QUEEN who asks me what FREEZINGS HAVE I FELT now that HEAVY SATURN has condemned the FORWARD VIOLET.

Couplet Imagery





Introductory




Q1:



Q2:



Q3:



Couplet:

  

SONNET 91 HORSE: Some glory in their birth, some in their skill,

Some glory in their birth, some in their skill,
Some in their wealth, some in their body's force,
Some in their garments though new-fangled ill;
Some in their hawks and hounds, some in their horse;
And every humour hath his adjunct pleasure,
Wherein it finds a joy above the rest:
But these particulars are not my measure,
All these I better in one general best.
Thy love is better than high birth to me,
Richer than wealth, prouder than garments' cost,
Of more delight than hawks and horses be;
And having thee, of all men's pride I boast:
   Wretched in this alone, that thou mayst take
   All this away, and me most wretched make.


SONNET INDEX


Mnemonic Image 




Memory Passage 

The CROSS is dragged behind the pale HORSE for my TERM OF LIFE because I tasted EVE'S APPLE and now have the POWER TO HURT like the CANKER IN THE FRAGRANT ROSE which is shivering under the FINGER OF THE THRONED QUEEN who asks me what FREEZINGS HAVE I FELT now that HEAVY SATURN has condemned the FORWARD VIOLET.

Couplet Imagery





Introductory




Q1:



Q2:



Q3:



Couplet:

 

SONNET 90 CROSS: Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now;

Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now;
Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross,
Join with the spite of fortune, make me bow,
And do not drop in for an after-loss:
Ah! do not, when my heart hath 'scaped this sorrow,
Come in the rearward of a conquered woe;
Give not a windy night a rainy morrow,
To linger out a purposed overthrow.
If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last,
When other petty griefs have done their spite,
But in the onset come: so shall I taste
At first the very worst of fortune's might;
   And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,
   Compared with loss of thee, will not seem so.


SONNET INDEX


Mnemonic Image 

CROSS

Memory Passage 

The CROSS is dragged behind the pale HORSE for my TERM OF LIFE because I tasted EVE'S APPLE and now have the POWER TO HURT like the CANKER IN THE FRAGRANT ROSE which is shivering under the FINGER OF THE THRONED QUEEN who asks me what FREEZINGS HAVE I FELT now that HEAVY SATURN has condemned the FORWARD VIOLET.

Couplet Imagery

And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,
   Compared with loss of thee, will not seem so.

Woe is the word here. Echoed heavily in Q2: sorrow, woe, morrow, overthrow. Strains groans out of bent and bow in Q1. The language itself straining, being bent, made to bow, under the possibility of loss of love. The negation of all other sorrow and suffering in the presence of this loss. This one wound is so grievous, the pain from all the other cuts is diminished. 

Introductory

The immediate sense of the sonnet follows out of the preceding sonnet:

Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault,
And I will comment upon that offence:
Speak of my lameness, and I straight will halt,
Against thy reasons making no defence.
Thou canst not, love, disgrace me half so ill,
To set a form upon desired change,
As I'll myself disgrace; knowing thy will,
I will acquaintance strangle, and look strange;
Be absent from thy walks; and in my tongue
Thy sweet beloved name no more shall dwell,
Lest I, too much profane, should do it wrong,
And haply of our old acquaintance tell.
   For thee, against my self I'll vow debate,
   For I must ne'er love him whom thou dost hate.

You sense the Poet stinging himself with that last line of self-hatred, taking a deep breath, then proceeding straight away to this sonnet. 

Q1:

Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now;
Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross,
Join with the spite of fortune, make me bow,
And do not drop in for an after-loss:

Riding off of the hate from sonnet 89, the "then hate me" burns off the page, spit out of the Poet's mouth. I read an angry resignation in the tone, something of the masochist, if you seek to inflict pain, if ever you think you might be so inclined, do not wait, do it now.

And in L2, there is an unelaborated subtext: things are already bad, I've hit rock-bottom, go ahead an pile on while I am here. Evidently, bending deeds to cross was a common enough phrase with no Christian resonance. But I can not help but read it as the Poet being crucified for his sins, bent upon the cross. Just a personal mnemonic image.

With L3, the image of the Poet in the hole, carrying the cross, the weight, join with the spite of fortune, and the invective: make me bow. Pile on your hatred, bending me over, making me bow. Now now now. Do not delay, wait, linger, the Poet wants all the pain at once. He knows he will endure, but that he must pass through this.

The rest of the sonnet emphasizes this.

Q2:

Ah! do not, when my heart hath 'scaped this sorrow,
Come in the rearward of a conquered woe;
Give not a windy night a rainy morrow,
To linger out a purposed overthrow.

With a sense of the day after, that the Poet has endured the Dark Night of the Soul, escaped.

Of course, there is also a graphic mnemonic reading for me: do not, says the Poet, after finally having come to terms with losing you, knowing he will no longer have loving sex, do not come around again through the rearward to linger out your overthrow. There is no more love, the Poet knows he is hated, but the Young Man continues to make the Poet submit to anal sex, humiliating him. The windy night is the night of a gassy degraded fucking and the rainy tomorrow is his leaking ass.


Q3:

If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last,
When other petty griefs have done their spite,
But in the onset come: so shall I taste
At first the very worst of fortune's might;

Graphic mnemonic interpretation: in the onset cum in my mouth, don't fuck me in the ass, so I shall then taste the worst of fortune's might.

Couplet:

And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,
   Compared with loss of thee, will not seem so.


Woe woe woe moaning though the sonnet as the Poet is hate-fucked by the Young Man.

Sonnet 59 A FORMER CHILD - If there be nothing new, but that which is

If there be nothing new, but that which is
Hath been before, how are our brains beguiled,
Which, labouring for invention, bear amiss
The second burden of a former child!
O, that record could with a backward look,
Even of five hundred courses of the sun,
Show me your image in some antique book,
Since mind at first in character was done!
That I might see what the old world could say
To this composed wonder of your frame;
Whether we are mended, or whether better they,
Or whether revolution be the same.
O, sure I am, the wits of former days
To subjects worse have given admiring praise.

Sonnet 58 GOD FORBID - That god forbid that made me first your slave,

That god forbid that made me first your slave,
I should in thought control your times of pleasure,
Or at your hand the account of hours to crave,
Being your vassal, bound to stay your leisure!
O, let me suffer, being at your beck,
The imprison'd absence of your liberty;
And patience, tame to sufferance, bide each cheque,
Without accusing you of injury.
Be where you list, your charter is so strong
That you yourself may privilege your time
To what you will; to you it doth belong
Yourself to pardon of self-doing crime.
I am to wait, though waiting so be hell;
Not blame your pleasure, be it ill or well.

Sonnet 57 SLAVE - Being your slave, what should I do but tend

Being your slave, what should I do but tend
Upon the hours and times of your desire?
I have no precious time at all to spend,
Nor services to do, till you require.
Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour
Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you,
Nor think the bitterness of absence sour
When you have bid your servant once adieu;
Nor dare I question with my jealous thought
Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,
But, like a sad slave, stay and think of nought
Save, where you are how happy you make those.
So true a fool is love that in your will,
Though you do any thing, he thinks no ill.

Sonnet 56 SAD INTERIM - Sweet love, renew thy force; be it not said

Sweet love, renew thy force; be it not said
Thy edge should blunter be than appetite,
Which but to-day by feeding is allay'd,
To-morrow sharpen'd in his former might:
So, love, be thou; although to-day thou fill
Thy hungry eyes even till they wink with fullness,
To-morrow see again, and do not kill
The spirit of love with a perpetual dullness.
Let this sad interim like the ocean be
Which parts the shore, where two contracted new
Come daily to the banks, that, when they see
Return of love, more blest may be the view;
Else call it winter, which being full of care
Makes summer's welcome thrice more wish'd, more rare.

Sonnet 55 SLUTTISH TIME - Not marble, nor the gilded monuments

Not marble, nor the gilded monuments
Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme;
But you shall shine more bright in these contents
Than unswept stone besmear'd with sluttish time.
When wasteful war shall statues overturn,
And broils root out the work of masonry,
Nor Mars his sword nor war's quick fire shall burn
The living record of your memory.
'Gainst death and all-oblivious enmity
Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room
Even in the eyes of all posterity
That wear this world out to the ending doom.
So, till the judgment that yourself arise,
You live in this, and dwell in lover's eyes.

Sonnet 54 SWEET ORNAMENT - O, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem

O, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem
By that sweet ornament which truth doth give!
The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem
For that sweet odour which doth in it live.
The canker-blooms have full as deep a dye
As the perfumed tincture of the roses,
Hang on such thorns and play as wantonly
When summer's breath their masked buds discloses:
But, for their virtue only is their show,
They live unwoo'd and unrespected fade,
Die to themselves. Sweet roses do not so;
Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odours made:
And so of you, beauteous and lovely youth,
When that shall fade, my verse distills your truth.

Sonnet 53 STRANGE SHADOWS - What is your substance, whereof are you made,

What is your substance, whereof are you made,
That millions of strange shadows on you tend?
Since every one hath, every one, one shade,
And you, but one, can every shadow lend.
Describe Adonis, and the counterfeit
Is poorly imitated after you;
On Helen's cheek all art of beauty set,
And you in Grecian tires are painted new:
Speak of the spring and foison of the year;
The one doth shadow of your beauty show,
The other as your bounty doth appear;
And you in every blessed shape we know.
In all external grace you have some part,
But you like none, none you, for constant heart.

Sonnet 52 BLESSED KEY - So am I as the rich, whose blessed key

So am I as the rich, whose blessed key
Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure,
The which he will not every hour survey,
For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure.
Therefore are feasts so solemn and so rare,
Since, seldom coming, in the long year set,
Like stones of worth they thinly placed are,
Or captain jewels in the carcanet.
So is the time that keeps you as my chest,
Or as the wardrobe which the robe doth hide,
To make some special instant special blest,
By new unfolding his imprison'd pride.
Blessed are you, whose worthiness gives scope,
Being had, to triumph, being lack'd, to hope.

Sonnet 51 DULL BEARER - Thus can my love excuse the slow offense

Thus can my love excuse the slow offense
Of my dull bearer when from thee I speed:
From where thou art why should I haste me thence?
Till I return, of posting is no need.
O, what excuse will my poor beast then find,
When swift extremity can seem but slow?
Then should I spur, though mounted on the wind;
In winged speed no motion shall I know:
Then can no horse with my desire keep pace;
Therefore desire of perfect'st love being made,
Shall neigh--no dull flesh--in his fiery race;
But love, for love, thus shall excuse my jade;
Since from thee going he went wilful-slow,
Towards thee I'll run, and give him leave to go.



Obviously paired with S50.
That groan from the froward beast,
the reminds the Poet that his destination
he is ever traveling towards grief and away from joy.

S50 is an internal monologue
while S51 is the outward explanation to the YM

Lest, perhaps, the YM believes the Poet's delay
is calculated? What is the slow offense?

Speed used ironically.

Note the movement from dull bearer to poor beast

The beautiful passage:

Then should I spur, though mounted on the wind;
In winged speed no motion shall I know:

Seems modern: no motion shall I know
the effect of being on an airplane

And the loaded line the marks Q3:

no horse can keep up with my desire

priapic boasting. the poet has been away too long
his prick shall spur the horse beyond the limits of the dull flesh
and he shall like a cartoon comet
arc fiery across the sky back to the YM

Interesting in the couplet
no spurring is necessary
the horse desires to get back to the YM
as quickly as possible


Q1: slow offense of the dull beast in leaving

Q2: the promised return will be faster than the wind

Q3: because the poet's desire is stronger than any horse and will speed him back like fire

C: I will let loose the reins on the horse and give him leave to exercise his full powers of speed (and desire?)

Sonnet 50 BLOODY SPUR: How heavy do I journey on the way

How heavy do I journey on the way,
When what I seek, my weary travel's end,
Doth teach that ease and that repose to say,
'Thus far the miles are measured from thy friend!'
The beast that bears me, tired with my woe,
Plods dully on, to bear that weight in me,
As if by some instinct the wretch did know
His rider lov'd not speed being made from thee.
The bloody spur cannot provoke him on,
That sometimes anger thrusts into his hide,
Which heavily he answers with a groan,
More sharp to me than spurring to his side;
   For that same groan doth put this in my mind,
   My grief lies onward, and my joy behind.

It's a sweet image of a sullen Shakespeare
on a horse plodding down the road

You can feel the weight of time: the wait
heavy, weary, tired with woe, plods dully on...
The meter resounding like horse's hooves on the road
lugubrious lamentation in alliteration
when what weary woe weight wretch
mile measured
beast bears bear bloody
and those two bears!
wretched beastly bears
then the bloody spur
singing out in Q3
anger, what anger? where?
weren't we weary with woe?
but with the turn comes anger
perhaps for having to leave London
and travel back to Stratford
to the wife and kids
to the million little pricks
and that groan
this sadistic Shakespeare
full of such anger as to bloody a spur
in a horse's hide
seems incongruous and yet all too human
rationalized that the greater pain is his
that same groan
you wonder at the sound
the recalcitrant horse
Rocinante
the angry Poet
spurs jingling on his boots
wheels spinning
dripping with hot red blood
but which cause no difference in the horse's pace
there's a sonnet to be written about this horse
and his evocative groan

We each enact our own myths

source

Film offers an all too easy metaphor for memory which, while evocative, is not accurate. I think people born in the age of film and now smart phones will think of memory as a message aligned with those mediums: a slow motion panning shot of a walk to the altar, soundtracked with a favorite song, close up on the face, or, far worse, their lives as a series of posed/ not posed filter / no filter selfies.

The creative and interpretively demanding windows opened by a work of art with its constantly shifting meanings and aporia are traded for these more compressed representations of the experience - the plastic souvenir remembered instead of the experience itself.

The capacities of memory of enormous are vast and energized by immersion to the most profound depths. Borges said one of the most signal moments in the development of Western culture was when Aeschylus introduced a second actor onto the stage. No longer a single singer or priest addressing the crowd directly, but a re-presentation of reality, as two actors magically create a dramatic universe we view as non-participatory spectators. No wonder the earliest memory systems were memory theaters. Internal private stages where we each enact our own myths. Something Freud "discovered" as a unexplored country within.

OSSA 3 TRIGRAMS: I-CHING TRIGRAMS

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SCRIPTUM 3 CASTLES: I learned this, at least, by my experiment

Walden 

Henry Thoreau (1817-1862)

I learned this, at least, by my experiment: that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours. He will put some things behind, will pass an invisible boundary; new, universal, and more liberal laws will begin to establish themselves around and within him; or the old laws be expanded, and interpreted in his favor in a more liberal sense, and he will live with the license of a higher order of beings. In proportion as he simplifies his life, the laws of the universe will appear less complex, and solitude will not be solitude, nor poverty poverty, nor weakness weakness. If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them.

I learned this, at least, by my experiment:
that if one advances confidently
in the direction of his dreams,
and endeavors to live the life
which he has imagined,
he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.

He will put some things behind,
will pass an invisible boundary;
new, universal, and more liberal laws
will begin to establish themselves
around and within him; or the old laws be expanded,
and interpreted in his favor in a more liberal sense,
and he will live with the license of a higher order of beings.

In proportion as he simplifies his life,
the laws of the universe will appear less complex,
and solitude will not be solitude,
nor poverty poverty,
nor weakness weakness.

If you have built castles in the air,
your work need not be lost;
that is where they should be.
Now put the foundations under them.

Synaesthetics

Composition VIII, 1923 - Kandinsky - source

I've been working to synaesthetically intertwine colors with letter, word and number. An age old Kandinskian effort, but solely for my own mnemonic purposes. For example. 0 = white. Seems natural to me, the white on a page around printed words is seen as silence. White is a kind of blank, an emptiness, a zero. The letter B is blue. It just looks like Blue. The two circles leaning against the wall, tired, drunk, squashed, blue. And 2 is also blue. Rhyme. But the image of the man on his knees, head bent over, in prayer or defeat, is blue. Blue smells like the sea, for obvious reasons. And the same: tastes like water. And so on... making myself into Pavlov's dog: 20 is blue on white, a drunk man kneeling on a white sheet, remembering the taste of rain, perhaps a sailor on a deserted island praying on a white sail, dying of thirst. This associative process of mnemonic creation, of cracking words open like oysters, searching for pearls amidst the labial folds.

SONNET 72 RECITE: O! lest the world should task you to recite

O! lest the world should task you to recite
What merit lived in me, that you should love
After my death,--dear love, forget me quite,
For you in me can nothing worthy prove.
Unless you would devise some virtuous lie,
To do more for me than mine own desert,
And hang more praise upon deceased I
Than niggard truth would willingly impart:
O! lest your true love may seem false in this
That you for love speak well of me untrue,
My name be buried where my body is,
And live no more to shame nor me nor you.
   For I am shamed by that which I bring forth,
   And so should you, to love things nothing worth.