"It's a sad day..."
My son used to say that when he was six. "It's a sad day." I know I'm lucky I don't live in the Khyber Pass and I have a job and even health insurance. And I have a beautiful, witty, funny compassionate, well-balanced child. I am so fortunate. But I am losing my faith in humanity and it is making me so very sad because too many bad things have happened at once.
My coping skills are depleted.
This is me saying; okay god, if there is one, you can stop giving me new challenges. I've got more challenges than I can handle.
Sweet dreams.
(Also... In this painting do you imagine that Hercules is inflicting excruciating pain on himself in order to protect a shred of modesty?)
12 comments:
I would hasard a guess this is a Michaelangelo purely because the lowlands ressemble the similar backdrop in Mona Lisa. The interlacing of the lion's pelt with the voluptuous genitals of Hercules make him invincible because his beauty and the beauty of the work last for centuries. Just as the teaching of the Hydra myth shows a Hercules at repose in full battle in a pose that suggests that the myth is eternal and therefore archityple.
Z.
Ah jeez, Nick. You said it. I can not even hope to add to that right now.
Thanks Jen, I can never really tell if it is bollocks or not. Hope you're holding your head up. I'm really feeling some of the pain of Donovan's loss. Love to both of you.
Z.
This is no Michelangelo, and DaVinci painted the Mona Lisa...and Job is the example to turn to when tried beyond limits.
It's hard to count your blessings when your whole world hurts, but you and your son have each other. There's a lot of comfort in that.
Yeah, we'll be alright. I'm not whining anymore.
Thanks.
Also, the artist is Antonio Pollaiolo, still yet another Italian Renaissaince painter.
Hercules had tasks -- that was why I included the painting, I was imagining a series of tasks or a gauntlet if you will. I never liked the story of Job. I thought it was nasty of Yahweh to mess up his life on a bet. The Greek dieties were much more honest about their pettiness. I can respect that in a weird, twisted way.
Happy Solstice. Nature can be cruel but I wouldn't call it petty. Now that, I really can respect.
And last but not least ...
Well, you're slim and you're weak
You got the teeth of the hydra upon you
You're dirty, sweet and you're my girl
The message from Job is severe, but not petty. It's a lesson I learned to value after hearing William Safire (RIP) explain it.
I'm no biblical scholar, nor do I turn often to the political Right for mythic analysis, but Safire revealed the beauty in this to me. I'm grateful for it. It made me seem petty, not Yahweh.
It's hardcore, but so is life.
Be well, anyway. Overcome.
A bit of a chancer 'bout the ID of renaissance 'doodlers', I'd say.
I loved what I wrote because it meant what I said. I allowed my instincts to gavort off their leash.
Always my best work, how was it for you, chers amis?
Z.
I'm all for gavorting, Z.
One last thing: DaVinci despised Michelangelo's painting technique, said it made the human figure look like a bag of walnuts.
Crazy guys, them dudes.
I agree, Cher Z.
OK, Indi.
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