Sartre and Sacher torte

Every so often I will share my thoughts on the Parallel Truths I find in movies, song lyrics and books that I read.  Today’s is a confluence of existential mystical magical angst and love laden thoughts.  You see, at the same time that I was reading Jean Paul Sartre’s Concrete Relations with Others I read Laini Taylor’s e-novella Night of Cake and Puppets.  An inspired combination. Like chili and dark chocolate.

So I read the dark, convoluted Sartre straight after enveloping my senses in an e-novella about a shy tiny girl luring a violinist to dare to love her. Enticing him on a journey to experience her by following a bespoke treasure map and magic puppets, a journey to love and Mozart and sacher torte in Prague, in the dark, in the snow: pure seduction, pure for-itself anxiety desperate to know how the for-other was seen by the Other and whether she/he could find freedom in being known, being seen and being loved.  Oh the agony of fear, the angst when all is inverted and the observed twists the trap and lures his puppetess with music and desire.

A Night of Cake and Puppets had a happier ending than Concrete Relations with Others, but it is fiction.  Delectable fiction, black chocolate, dripping fiction.  Back to Sartre. Continue reading “Sartre and Sacher torte”

Leaching

As you will have guessed from Walking in between, I decided to take a few days to let the wind, sand and waves leach the last few months into a new order, and to let the sun melt my bones.  Lots to eat, read and better yet kilometres of beach for walking meditation.

One should be precise in the use of language and I did deliberately use the word “leach” hoping the stress and sadness would drain away.
One thanks the weather goddess for making real with adroit precision one’s desire to be leached, cleansed and washed.
One however wishes with due deference to point out that it was meant as a metaphor.
Within half an hour of standing in bright sunlight and expressing a desire to be leached, I was buffeted by a squall.  Three guys raced past on kite boards, riding on the tops of great smashing waves, flying with the wind.  I gazed seaward facing into the wind and stinging rain.  Within moments I was utterly drenched, but smiling under a full rainbow.  One cannot complain if the goddess is feeling literal, and your rainbow, well then I knew.
Continue reading “Leaching”