The Hammock Papers: Storehouses.

30 August 2018

Storehouses.

Every society seems to use stories for the education of the heart. Each story is a store of ripened knowledge in the oldest barns of human culture. Myths, ripened in October, are the apples of the mind, carefully laid out to preserve their meanings. In the soft darkness of the strorehouses, close your ordinary eyes to the ordinary world and open your extraordinary eyes to the extraordinary world, best illuminated by the grandparent voice in the autumn years telling tales in the dark, the dark of the evening and the fertile dark of the mind. These, in potent story-warmth, the subconscious breathes in the texture, significance, and meaning of the story like quietness steeped in the smell of apples.

Jay Griffiths, from Kith: The Riddle of the Childscape

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MARCUS AURELIUS

"Is your cucumber bitter? Throw it away. Are there briars in your path? Turn aside. That is enough. Do not go on and say, 'Why were things of this sort ever brought into this world?' neither intolerable nor everlasting - if thou bearest in mind that it has its limits, and if thou addest nothing to it in imagination. Pain is either an evil to the body (then let the body say what it thinks of it!)-or to the soul. But it is in the power of the soul to maintain its own serenity and tranquility."

VINCENT van GOGH

"What am I in the eyes of most people? A nonentity or an oddity or a disagreeable person — someone who has and will have no position in society, in short a little lower than the lowest. Very well — assuming that everything is indeed like that, then through my work I’d like to show what there is in the heart of such an oddity, such a nobody. This is my ambition, which is based less on resentment than on love in spite of everything, based more on a feeling of serenity than on passion. Even though I’m often in a mess, inside me there’s still a calm, pure harmony and music. In the poorest little house, in the filthiest corner, I see paintings or drawings. And my mind turns in that direction as if with an irresistible urge. As time passes, other things are increasingly excluded, and the more they are the faster my eyes see the picturesque. Art demands persistent work, work in spite of everything, and unceasing observation."

DAN CAMPBELL