A Thing of Beauty Is A Joy Forever.

I've heard of people getting Writer's block.. I've experienced it too. But a Reader's block is new for me. I didn't even know that something like this exists but, however hard I try I can't get myself to read more than two pages on a stretch. Hard Times - Charles Dickens. This BOOK is giving me a hard time coming to terms with reality. Perceptual, ofcourse. Or I hope. Why am I starting to think that I won't be able to finish reading this thing ever?

I mean I've read lots of Classics. Lots and lots of them. Then why not this. And I couldn't even get myself to read more than a quarter of A Tale Of Two Cities. It's something to do with the author, probably. Positively. It has to do something with the author. Moving on, like yesterday's obsession with groupies and supermodels, today we have Artists. Lawrence Alma Tadema. Particularly this painting called "A Favourite Custom" which was painted in the year 1909.



Breathtakingly beautiful. I couldn't take my eyes off this composition. And I didn't even know that I could call Fine Arts one of my obsessions. Phew. I loved this one a little less than the first, but considerably. Fascinating because the far left portion of it seemed to me like a photograph instead of paint. Incredible.


Take a look at it closely. Right here. There is -- Lord Frederic Leighton's "Flaming June". I truly believe a person looks the most beautiful when he or she's asleep.


No words. Absolutely no words. And there was one more I loved. "The Roses of Heliogabalus". Love of roses. Since time immemorial. I mean, since I can remember.


As The Roses of Heliogabalus was painted during the winter, Tadema arranged to have roses sent weekly from the French Riviera for four months to ensure the accuracy of each petal.

How can people not like Art? Whoever says that has to be lying. And when even sploshes of random colours on canvas is considered Art. Modern. Then what is not? My scribbles turn out to be works of Art when I finish joining them together. Voila! The precious work of a perpetually depressed teen. Oh, but that's private collection. Not for viewing. You won't even find them in some Art Gallery somewhere, so don't you even consider googling it. :D

School re-opens tomorrow after the Exams. Sad. There's not much to look forward to. It sharpens the sadness. But anyway, life's less than exciting but there is some sort of "peace" going around inside me. Is this what I asked when I wrote this poem of mine. I just happened to stumble upon it while going through my previous posts. The sadness gets sharpened with peace. Well, at least now I know Peace is NOT = Happiness. Not always. Not ever. Maybe substantially but not completely. Nothing's "enough for me". Yes.

The gloom always hovers over the joy like a troublesome raincloud. Ready to burst. And I never liked using umbrellas. Sigh.

Live it. Love it.

So I hunched over my laptop all day just to get to know more about what's behind Summer Wine. And the versions. And more versions. This isn't the original. The whole life story of Uschi Obermaier. It's the soundtrack for the biopic movie of Uschi's life : Eight Miles High or Das Wilde Leben.

Natalia Avelon, the lady with Ville Valo in the video. She plays Uschi. I absolutely adore Ville. Dunno why. Even though I don't like HIM much. I meant the band. I guess it has something to do with his heavenly voice. Hmmm..

So I moved ahead to reading all about Uschi, her life, her love affairs. My oh my. Mick Jagger, Keith Richards and even Jimi Hendrix. And I didn't even know. She was a groupie but a video I viewed on YouTube, the guy stated that Uschi wasn't actually one, and that she denied it herself during interviews. She was anyhow, a model and an actress who was also a political activist.


Somehow, I always wished I was born somewhere around the 60s. Hippie culture fascinates me. Totally. Sandi Thom's music is inspiring too. Except, I hope she does know if punk rockers really had flowers in their hair. But rest of the lyrics are lovely. Following a string of Uschi related videos, I ended up going through the lives of Gia Carangi. I had already heard and seen a bit about the the Angeline Jolie starrer movie about Gia's Life : Gia.

All this reading about life is very exhilarating and depressing at the same time. When writers do stuff like making up stories. Fiction. I get scared thinking about how many lives they live at once. Best selling authors do sometimes get too much into the skin of the character. Hence, Schizoprenia. I actually have a newspaper article taped to one of my bedroom walls telling me about what happened with Ernest Hemingway, Sylvia Plath, Virginia Woolf and more. The whole of the article escapes me except that they all killed themselves. Some of the cases were gruesome.

Back to Summer Wine. The original was by Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazelwood in 1967. Another popular cover is by Bono and Andrea Corr from The Corrs. The Corrs are amazing musicians. I went through all their history yesterday night with immense curiousity. Now I just HAVE to visit Ireland once in my life. I just loved this video of their "Rebel Heart" :

Lately, I've been playing with the idea that taking up a profession of a Travel Writer can be fun. Very interesting. It actually was with me a few months ago. Then I got distracted. I know it's very weird that I still don't know what I'll do. But if I DO decide and plan out my life right now, it'd all just end up in a way that's least expected. With me, everything's impulsive. Maybe I'd just think about going off to Istanbul and I'd leave the next day.

All the History studying is turning me into a more hopeless romantic than ever. I think I WILL do just that. Travel around the globe, come back home, settle down and have a family. Nice. Oh, but I still don't know. :D

Haze.

I craved for you
With suspended longing
A tryst with nature
Of my mental narcissus
Been out of my mind
With a thousand thoughts
Of a better tomorrow
When tomorrow is born of today
Today of sinful yesterday
A ray of light can do me no good
It's all a part of the game
I lost to the mighty big sun
I crumpled and burned away.