Watching this it awakens me to something I have lost, what was taken by "My Muse", a crystals clear communion with other consciousness... we had that, it was lost, I lost it, we? lost it. Since then I have been unable to look into anyone's eyes in peace, I have been unable to look into my own eyes in peace, the crystal pool of the world has been disturbed, the waters paled, The Winter has come; but between the driving clouds that blow into this valley there are breaks and on that wind I have tasted the hint of fragrance again.
Paul Scofield writes in answer to a request to speak at a seminar on acting:
I have found that an actor's work has interest only in its execution; it seems to whither away in discussion and becomes emptily theoretical and insubstantial. It has no rules except perhaps audibility. With every play and every playwrite, the actor starts from scratch as if he or she knows nothing and proceeds to learn afresh every time, growing with the relationships of the characters and the insights of the writer. When the play has finished its run the actor is empty until the next time, and it is the emtpiness which is, i find, apparent in any discussion of theatre work.
Aren't we all merely actors and all the world a stage? When each thing is done, we are empty really to be filled with the next. We take nothing. Isn't it that emptiness that many are afraid of, for in that emptiness we think we see Death and we grasp out to secure some solidity and proof that "I Am". Alas it is vain. We are a vessel into which the world is poured, and to hold all we must forgo being held ourselves. To know God, to see YaHWeH, to know "I AM" is to know "I AM NOT". Thus those who wish to find "I AM" within must turn from the "I AM" outside and this way the jug tips out its contents in a futile struggle to pour itself into itself. The dog begins to chase its tail and in the vortex comes the Devil and whispers "You Are", you deserve to Be, It all belongs to you and you can have it all I assue you.
By way of juxtapose have just checked out the new Lily Allen album that been looking forward to for ages: its not just me that has had the waters perturbed, God no longer moves here. I don't know what's right and what's real, any more. And, I don't know how I'm meant to feel, any more. When do you think it will all become clear? I thought they said The Enlightenment was here?
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