tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8906761391685115717.post389268069915163180..comments2024-02-02T01:54:30.545-08:00Comments on Symphony in Sun-showers: The FiremanRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06250470160648523347noreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8906761391685115717.post-75757722551758218862011-12-01T21:39:20.291-08:002011-12-01T21:39:20.291-08:00Thanks, I'll check it out :)Thanks, I'll check it out :)Rhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06250470160648523347noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8906761391685115717.post-19600454933134294282011-12-01T05:07:26.637-08:002011-12-01T05:07:26.637-08:00Its from 'The art of travel' by a Swiss au...Its from 'The art of travel' by a Swiss author Alain de Botton.<br /><br />You might like this one too..<br /><br />http://www.amazon.com/Solitary-Vice-Against-Reading-Counterpoint/dp/1593761872Arumugamhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17687211004217642608noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8906761391685115717.post-2686038168514018522011-11-28T17:03:21.510-08:002011-11-28T17:03:21.510-08:00It really is a wonderful passage. It conveys beaut...It really is a wonderful passage. It conveys beautifully what Karishma compressed into a few lines. Total eureka moment- which is exactly what I had when I read Kari's comment. The stream of mundane events it talks about- you actually quite a few movies these days going more along that route. Showing you the ordinary and capturing the aesthetic in it.<br />I want to read this book now! Who's it by? And welcome to the blog :)Rhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06250470160648523347noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8906761391685115717.post-34065555288785531712011-11-26T21:55:54.958-08:002011-11-26T21:55:54.958-08:00@TUIB- Your comments feel like art sometimes:-)
@...@TUIB- Your comments feel like art sometimes:-)<br /><br />@Riddhi- Am new here, came through TUIB’s blog. This is a very interesting post. I too have had thoughts about real life being quite dull and monotonous compared to art.<br /><br />If I may, allow me to share a wonderful passage I read a while back. I was quite overjoyed on reading this, It was a eureka moment.<br /><br />“If we are inclined to forget how much there is in the world besides that which we anticipate, then works of art are perhaps a little to blame, for in them we find at work the same process of simplification or selection as in the imagination. Artistic accounts involve severe abbreviations of what reality will force upon us. A travel book may tell us, for example, that the narrator journeyed through the afternoon to reach the hill town of X and after a night in its medieval monastery awoke to a misty dawn. But we never simply journey through an afternoon'. We sit in a train. Lunch digests awkwardly within us. The seat cloth is grey. We look out the window at a field. We look back inside. A drum of anxieties revolves in our consciousness. We notice a luggage label affixed to a suitcase in a rack above the seats opposite. We tap a finger on the window ledge. A broken nail on an index finger catches a thread.<br />It starts to rain. A drop wends a muddy path down the dust-coated window. We wonder where our ticket might be. We look back out at the field. It continues to rain. At last the train starts to move. It passes an iron bridge, after which it inexplicably stops. A fly lands on the window. And still we may have reached the end only of the first minute of a comprehensive account of the events lurking within the deceptive sentence ‘He journeyed through the afternoon'.<br />A storyteller who provided us with such a profusion of details would rapidly grow maddening. Unfortunately, life itself often subscribes to this mode of storytelling, wearing us out with repetitions, misleading emphases and inconsequential plot lines. It insists on showing us Bardak Electronics, the safety handle in the car, a stray dog, a Christmas card and a fly that lands first on the rim and then in the center of a laden ashtray.<br />This explains the curious phenomenon whereby valuable elements may be easier to experience in art and in anticipation than in reality. The anticipatory and artistic imaginations omit and compress; they cut away the periods of boredom and direct our attention to critical moments, and thus, without either lying or embellishing, they lend to life vividness and a coherence that it may lack in the distracting woolliness of the present.” --The Art of TravelArumugamhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17687211004217642608noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8906761391685115717.post-58564233172500632702011-10-31T11:09:42.195-07:002011-10-31T11:09:42.195-07:00I'm grateful for your comment- about art being...I'm grateful for your comment- about art being a distillate. You're so right. Even the whole mundane bit of writing exams, going through training etc is done as a sorta montage with really inspirational/laid back background music. <br />And this is where wishing life mirrored art comes in. Damn, I'd study so much harder if I lived in a movie montage of about 1 minute :pRhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06250470160648523347noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8906761391685115717.post-70654384836272969992011-10-29T11:14:07.864-07:002011-10-29T11:14:07.864-07:00Fahrenheit 451 is a truly lovely book. And this is...Fahrenheit 451 is a truly lovely book. And this is a truly lovely post, Riddhi. Makes one wonder about real life versus fiction. Fiction does not contain the longueurs that real life mostly consists of. It lacks the tediousness of two hour train rides with sweaty armpits in one's face and the ennui of endless sweaty afternoon hours creeping by in a power-cut. Nor is there the boredom of studying for endless exams or the exasperation of a bumpy busride. <br /><br />All art feels like a distillate - the very best and the most intense of human experience. It is a mirror to life, of course, but more of a funhouse mirror than a real one. To hold life up to art's standards is unfair to life. :)<br /><br />But that bit about being so overwhelmed by a piece of writing so beautiful it makes one question one's own ability to write - that I can identify with. One realizes that one's own thoughts will not hold well against scrutiny as someone else's more eloquently worded ones. But that's alright, it's enough to communicate at times.<br /><br />Which is why I am so grateful for this post of yours. :) Lovely!Tangled up in blue...https://www.blogger.com/profile/09863311350462955038noreply@blogger.com