Minulla on tapana jostain kumman syystä lukea samaan aikaan useampaa kirjaa. Esimerkiksi syödessäni saatan lukea jotain viihdyttävää kirjaa, ja muuten enemmän tietoa sisältävää kirjaa tai jotain henkistä julkaisua. No nyt minulla on kaksi romaania luvussa. Yön kirkas tähti jossa on Keatsin 100 viimeisintä kirjettä, sekä
Hänen varjonsa tarina, Audrey Niffenegger, joka on kummitustarina joka ei pelota mutta kiehtoo. Kirjailija on kirjoittanut (eilen satuin lukemaan takaliepeestä…) myös Aikamatkustajan vaimo romaanin, josta tehdyn samannimisen elokuvan olen nähnyt, ja se oli tosi hyvä elokuva. Tämän Hänen varjonsa tarina on hyvä ja kiinnostava kirja, Niffenegger kirjoittaa hyvin ja saa pidettyä kiinnostuksen yllä hyvällä moniulotteisella tarinalla, henkilöhahmoilla ja useammalla kysymyksellä joihin haluaa vastauksen.
Yön kirkas tähti taas on mielenkiintoinen historiallisesti, ja sen tosielämän (traagisenkin) romanssin vuoksi. Keats vuodattaa kaunista kirjoitusta rakkaalleen kun ei voi olla hänen kanssaan, ja kirjoittaa läheisilleen ja ystävilleen myös mielenkiintoisesti. Kirjan kansikuva on kaunis ja katsoin itse kirjan kantta myös ja ihastuin siihen, sillä siihen oli painettu pieniä tähtiä elegantisti.
Did some artistic work for change… I made my own stamps and they ended up quite cool, I think. I also made my two books, which I will fill with poems etc. decorated with a model I bought from a Crafts shop in my town.
Tech Support: Yes,… how can I help you? Customer: Well, after much consideration, I’ve decided to install Love. Can you guide me through the process? ……… Tech Support: Yes. I can help you. Are you ready to proceed? Customer: Well, I’m not …very technical, but I think I’m ready. What do I do first? Tech Support: The first step is to open your Heart. Have you located your Heart, sir? Customer: Yes, but there are several other programs running now. Is it okay to install Love while they are running? Tech Support: What programs are running, sir? Customer: Let’s see, I have Past/Hurt, Low Self-Esteem, Grudge and Resentment running right now. Tech Support: No problem, Love will gradually erase Past/Hurt from your current operating system. It may remain in your permanent memory, but it will no longer disrupt other programs. Love will eventually override Low Self-Esteem with a module of it’s own called High Self-Esteem. However, you have to completely turn off Grudge and Resentment. Those programs prevent Love from being properly installed. Can you turn those off, ma’am? Customer: I don’t know how to turn them off. Can you tell me how? Tech Support: With pleasure. Go to your start menu and invoke Forgiveness. Do this as many times as necessary until Grudge and Resentment have completely erased. Customer: Okay, done! Love has started installing itself. Is that normal? Tech Support: Yes, but remember that you have only the base program. You need to begin connecting to other Hearts in order to get the upgrades. Customer: Oops! I have an error message already. It says, “Error – program not run on external components.” What should I do? Tech Support: Don’t worry, sir. It means that the Love program is set up to run on Internal Hearts, but has not yet been run on your Heart. In non-technical terms, it simply means you have to Love yourself before you can Love others. Customer: So, what should I do? Tech Support: Can you pull down Self-Acceptance; then click on the following files: Forgive-Self; Realize Your Worth; and Acknowledge your Limitations. Customer: Okay, done. Tech Support: Now, copy them to the “My Heart” directory. The system will overwrite any conflicting files and begin patching faulty programming. Also, you need to delete Verbose Self-Criticism from all directories and empty your Recycle Bin to make sure it is completely gone and never comes back. Customer: Got it. Hey!!! My heart is filling up with new files. Smile is playing on my monitor and Peace and Contentment are copying themselves all over My Heart. Is this normal? Tech Support: Sometimes. For others it takes awhile, but eventually everything gets it at the proper time. So Love is installed and running. One more thing before we hang up. Love is Freeware. Be sure to give it and its various modules to everyone you meet. They will in turn share it with others and return some cool modules back to you. Customer: I promise to do just that. By the way, what’s your name? Tech Support: Just call me the Divine Cardiologist, also known as the Great Physician, or just “I AM.” Most people feel all they need is an annual checkup to stay heart-healthy; but, the manufacturer (ME) suggests a daily maintenance schedule for maximum Love efficiency. ~Unknown~ source/writer
I have read about indigos and their eyes (among many different metaphysical writings, books) It is said that they are differrent, many colors. Angelic people too have different eyes, and many times with a golden ring around the pupil. I have that. My eyes seem to change color from blue to green with some yellow or golden spots. You can be the ‘judge’ of that seeing these pictures below.
This illusion really takes us in so fully that we really think we are in this world. We are here in this world now, but not FROM this world. We are so much more, multidimensional beings.
I have Reiki healing and had warm hands even before the courses. I make people feel good about themselves, they say. We have a responsibility for our selves and others. Love yourselves and then you can love others.
I am positive and optimistic by nature, although some life’s occurances have lowered it down a bit, but never wholly.
Almost wanting to go back home now. But not before everything gets better! There is still work to be done. Just in different sence than people usually think of work. It is time to acknowledge the work people do silently without payment or even gratitude. There is much more in life than work from nine to five…
And there are bigger dreams and there is a bigger picture to everything!
You are a GREAT SOUL that God/Goddess loves so perfectly. You are never separated from God/Goddess and your Heart is the way to feel God/Goddess in YOU. Search your self, meditate, read spiritual books and listen to uplifting music. Try to get your mind and soul higher. Smile! Laugh!
Sometimes there is no greater work than to be here in this moment, shining light and love to people around us! No need to do so much and run and go places but just BE in the NOW for people. Being present. Listening, helping, shining light and love. You can be one of these beings who are helping others to realize who they really are after your own awakening to your Greatness. This is a chain reaction wich will change the world!
Are you an Earth Angel? Starpeople? Elemental? Wizard? Wise one? Lightworker you still may be, and usually lightworkers are one of these or something in between. Or if not, this information about different types of helpers is great for everyone! Doreen Virtue writes about it in her books. There are You Tube videos too.
A Pocket Guide for Incarnated Angels, Elementals, Starpeople, Walk-Ins, and Wizards! If you feel different from other people, as if you were dropped off on this planet and wonder when the bus is coming by to take you Home, then you may be an Earth Angel. If you have a passion or talent for healing, teaching, or helping others, yet you yourself have struggled with addictions, relationship challenges, and such, then . . . you may be an Earth Angel. In this fascinating book, Dr. Doreen Virtue helps you understand how your spiritual-realm origin has affected your life’s mission, personality, relationships, health, and even your looks. She’ll also teach you how to feel better about yourself and all aspects of your life.
The Lightworker’s Way will help you to set your spirit free, teaching you how to have miracles in your life as an everyday experience. It tells you how to divinely plan your life, heighten your psychic receptivity, open your third eye, make peace with God, and much, much, more.
Welcome to a trip to the universe. We start from the sun rising over Earth and go to the moon and head for the sun gazing to it’s flares. We’ll fly over canyons on Mars, we’ll go to the stars outside our solarsystem. We dive through nebulae, and we witness an exploding of a supernova and the creation of the Cat’s Eye Nebula. We zoom into the heart of the comet Holmes, and in a massive star cluster and different galaxies.
Enjoy your trip with Enigma’s music.
¸,¤°´’`°•.¸¸.•°´’`°¤,¸*´’`°¤¸¸.•’´`’•.¸¸¤°´’`*(¯`*•.¸,¤°´`°¤,¸.•*´¯)
This video I made ex tempore seeing these clips, and there it is for you to see! ♥
I am really into space and the awesome pictures and videos about it so I wanted to do my own video about space.
John Keats’ and Fanny Brawne’s love was so intence and tragic.
“The noble Heart that harbors virtuous thought,
And is with Child of glorious great intent,
Can never rest, until it forth have brought
Th’ eternal Brood of Glory excellent – ”
“Is there another Life? Shall I awake and find all this a dream? There must be we cannot be created for this sort of suffering.” -Fanny Brawne
LETTERS FROM JOHN TO FANNY:
To Fanny Brawne, 11 October 1819
College Street –
My sweet Girl,
I am living to day in yesterday: I was in a complete fa[s]cination all day. I feel myself at your mercy. Write me ever so few lines and tell you [for me] you will never for ever be less kind to me than yesterday – You dazzled me – There is nothing in the world so bright and delicate – When Brown came out with that seemingly true story again[ s]t me last night, I felt it would be death to me if you had ever believed it – though against anyone else I could muster up my obstinacy – Before I knew Brown could disprove it I was for the moment miserable. When shall we pass a day alone? I have had a thousand kisses, for which with my whole soul I thank love – but if you should deny me the thousand and first – ‘t would put me to the proof how great a misery I could live through. If you should ever carry your threat yesterday into execution – believe me ‘t is not my pride, my vanity or any petty passion would torment me – really ‘t would hurt my – heart – I could not bear it – I have seen Mrs Dilke this morning – she says she will come with me any fine day-
Ever yours
John Keats
Ah hertè mine!
To Fanny Brawne, 13 October 1819
25 College Street
My dearest Girl,
This moment I have set myself to copy some verses out fair. I cannot proceed with any degree of content. I must write you a line or two and see if that will assist in dismissing you from my Mind for ever so short a time. Upon my Soul I can think of nothing else – The time is passed when I had power to advise and warn you again[s]t the unpromising morning of my Life – My love has made me selfish. I cannot exist without you – I am forgetful of every thing but seeing you again – my Life seems to stop there – I see no further. You have absorb’d me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving – I should be exquisitely miserable without the hope of soon seeing you. I should be afraid to separate myself far from you. My sweet Fanny, will your heart never change? My love, will it? I have no limit now to my love – You note came in just here – I cannot be happier away from you – ‘T is richer than an Argosy of Pearles. Do not threat me even in jest. I have been astonished that Men could die Martyrs for religion – I have shudder’d at it – I shudder no more – I could be martyr’d for my Religion – Love is my religion – I could die for that – I could die for you. My Creed is Love and you are its only tenet – You have ravish’d me away by a Power I cannot resist: and yet I could resist till I saw you; and even since I have seen you I have endeavoured often “to reason against the reasons of my Love.” I can do that no more – the pain would be too great – My Love is selfish – I cannot breathe without you.
Yours for ever
John Keats
February (?) 1820
My sweet love, I shall wait patiently till tomorrow before I see you, and in the mean time, if there is any need of such a thing, assure you by your Beauty, that whenever I have at any time written on a certain unpleasant subject, it has been with your welfare impress’d upon my mind. How hurt I should have been had you ever acceded to what is, notwithstanding, very reasonable! How much the more do I love you from the general result! In my present state of Health I feel too much separated from you and could almost speak to you in the words of Lorenzo’s Ghost to Isabella
Your Beauty grows upon me and I feel
A greater love through all my essence steal.
My greatest torment since I have known you has been the fear of you being a little inclined to the Cressid; but that suspicion I dismiss utterly and remain happy in the surety of your Love, which I assure you is as much a wonder to me as a delight. Send me the words “Good night” to put under my pillow.
Dearest Fanny,
Your affectionate
J.K
John Keats’ poems and sonnets:
A Thing Of Beauty
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o’er-darkened ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old, and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
‘Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
All lovely tales that we have heard or read:
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven’s brink.
Nor do we merely feel these essences
For one short hour; no, even as the trees
That whisper round a temple become soon
Dear as the temple’s self, so does the moon,
The passion poesy, glories infinite,
Haunt us till they become a cheering light
Unto our souls, and bound to us so fast
That, whether there be shine or gloom o’ercast,
They always must be with us, or we die.
Therefore, ’tis with full happiness that I
Will trace the story of Endymion.
The very music of the name has gone
Into my being, and each pleasant scene
Is growing fresh before me as the green
Of our own valleys: so I will begin
Now while I cannot hear the city’s din;
Now while the early budders are just new,
And run in mazes of the youngest hue
About old forests; while the willow trails
Its delicate amber; and the dairy pails
Bring home increase of milk. And, as the year
Grows lush in juicy stalks, I’ll smoothly steer
My little boat, for many quiet hours,
With streams that deepen freshly into bowers.
Many and many a verse I hope to write,
Before the daisies, vermeil rimmed and white,
Hide in deep herbage; and ere yet the bees
Hum about globes of clover and sweet peas,
I must be near the middle of my story.
O may no wintry season, bare and hoary,
See it half finished: but let Autumn bold,
With universal tinge of sober gold,
Be all about me when I make an end!
And now at once, adventuresome, I send
My herald thought into a wilderness:
There let its trumpet blow, and quickly dress
My uncertain path with green, that I may speed
Easily onward, thorough flowers and weed.
John Keats
Bright Star
Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art–
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature’s patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth’s human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors–
No–yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow’d upon my fair love’s ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever–or else swoon to death.
John Keats
Fragment. Welcome Joy, And Welcome Sorrow
‘Under the flag
Of each his faction, they to battle bring
Their embryo atoms.’ ~ Milton.
Welcome joy, and welcome sorrow,
Lethe’s weed and Hermes’ feather;
Come to-day, and come to-morrow,
I do love you both together!
I love to mark sad faces in fair weather;
And hear a merry laugh amid the thunder;
Fair and foul I love together.
Meadows sweet where flames are under,
And a giggle at a wonder;
Visage sage at pantomine;
Funeral, and steeple-chime;
Infant playing with a skull;
Morning fair, and shipwreck’d hull;
Nightshade with the woodbine kissing;
Serpents in red roses hissing;
Cleopatra regal-dress’d
With the aspic at her breast;
Dancing music, music sad,
Both together, sane and mad;
Muses bright and muses pale;
Sombre Saturn, Momus hale;–
Laugh and sigh, and laugh again;
Oh the sweetness of the pain!
Muses bright, and muses pale,
Bare your faces of the veil;
Let me see; and let me write
Of the day, and of the night –
Both together: – let me slake
All my thirst for sweet heart-ache!
Let my bower be of yew,
Interwreath’d with myrtles new;
Pines and lime-trees full in bloom,
And my couch a low grass-tomb.
John Keats
Ode To A Nightingale
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:
‘Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,
But being too happy in thy happiness,—
That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees,
In some melodious plot
Of beechen green, and shadows numberless,
Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
O for a draught of vintage, that hath been
Cooled a long age in the deep-delved earth,
Tasting of Flora and the country green,
Dance, and Provencal song, and sun-burnt mirth!
O for a beaker full of the warm South,
Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,
With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,
And purple-stained mouth;
That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,
And with thee fade away into the forest dim:
Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget
What thou among the leaves hast never known,
The weariness, the fever, and the fret
Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;
Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs,
Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow
And leaden-eyed despairs;
Where beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,
Or new love pine at them beyond tomorrow.
Away! away! for I will fly to thee,
Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards,
But on the viewless wings of Poesy,
Though the dull brain perplexes and retards:
Already with thee! tender is the night,
And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,
Clustered around by all her starry fays;
But here there is no light,
Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown
Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.
I cannot see what flowers are at my feet,
Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,
But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet
Wherewith the seasonable month endows
The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild;
White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine;
Fast-fading violets covered up in leaves;
And mid-May’s eldest child,
The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine,
The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.
Darkling I listen; and for many a time
I have been half in love with easeful Death,
Called him soft names in many a mused rhyme,
To take into the air my quiet breath;
Now more than ever seems it rich to die,
To cease upon the midnight with no pain,
While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad
In such an ecstasy!
Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain—
To thy high requiem become a sod
Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!
No hungry generations tread thee down;
The voice I hear this passing night was heard
In ancient days by emperor and clown:
Perhaps the self-same song that found a path
Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home,
She stood in tears amid the alien corn;
The same that oft-times hath
Charmed magic casements, opening on the foam
Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.
Forlorn! the very word is like a bell
To toll me back from thee to my sole self!
Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well
As she is famed to do, deceiving elf.
Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades
Past the near meadows, over the still stream,
Up the hill-side; and now ’tis buried deep
In the next valley-glades:
Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
Fled is that music:—do I wake or sleep?
John Keats
Sonnet II. To ******
Had I a man’s fair form, then might my sighs
Be echoed swiftly through that ivory shell
Thine ear, and find thy gentle heart; so well
Would passion arm me for the enterprize:
But ah! I am no knight whose foeman dies;
No cuirass glistens on my bosom’s swell;
I am no happy shepherd of the dell
Whose lips have trembled with a maiden’s eyes.
Yet must I doat upon thee,–call thee sweet,
Sweeter by far than Hybla’s honied roses
When steep’d in dew rich to intoxication.
Ah! I will taste that dew, for me ’tis meet,
And when the moon her pallid face discloses,
I’ll gather some by spells, and incantation.
John Keats
Song. I Had A Dove
I had a dove, and the sweet dove died;
And I have thought it died of grieving:
O, what could it grieve for? its feet were tied
With a single thread of my own hand’s weaving;
Sweet little red feet, why should you die–
Why should you leave me, sweet bird, why?
You lived alone in the forest tree,
Why, pretty thing! would you not live with me?
I kiss’d you oft and gave you white peas;
Why not live sweetly, as in the green trees?
John Keats
Sonnet: Oh! How I Love, On A Fair Summer’s Eve
Oh! how I love, on a fair summer’s eve,
When streams of light pour down the golden west,
And on the balmy zephyrs tranquil rest
The silver clouds, far — far away to leave
All meaner thoughts, and take a sweet reprieve
From little cares; to find, with easy quest,
A fragrant wild, with Nature’s beauty drest,
And there into delight my soul deceive.
There warm my breast with patriotic lore,
Musing on Milton’s fate — on Sydney’s bier —
Till their stern forms before my mind arise:
Perhaps on wing of Poesy upsoar,
Full often dropping a delicious tear,
When some melodious sorrow spells mine eyes.
John Keats
When I have Fears that I may cease to be
WHEN I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has glean’d my teeming brain,
Before high pil`d books, in charact’ry,
Hold like rich garners the full-ripen’d grain;
When I behold, upon the night’s starr’d face,
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And feel that I may never live to trace
Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour!
That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the faery power
Of unreflecting love;–then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think,
Till Love and Fame to nothingness do sink.
John Keats
John Keats’ last surviving letter to Fanny Brawne, August 1820
Dreams of Movies 