In Sewall’s chapter on depth, she refers to a woman named Deena Metzger, who says that “the erotic powers are receptivity, resonance, and radiance.” These are the powers of the senses and are a big part of seeing clearly. We’ve already practiced being receptive to our physical senses through listening, touching, and tuning into emotions.
One of the things I love about photography is the sense of ‘being in the moment.’ It’s a very different experience than when I look at my photos later. There’s a sense of everything fitting together, working in harmony. It’s a remarkable feeling.
And it’s a lovely word, resonance. It’s got a particular feel to it, (the hold of the ‘z’ sound, and the wave of the ‘on’ giving way to ‘an.’). Saying it feels like mouth music.
There isn’t a lot of music that I think of as ‘love at first listen,’ where everything fits together and makes perfect sense, but when it does happen, it feels remarkable, like everything belongs, like it’s always been there, regardless of how new or old it is.
A friend once mentioned to me that he loved a particular album. ‘I don’t know what it is,’ he said. ‘It just pushes all my buttons.’ I think what he was trying to say was that the album resonated for him.
This week I’ve been listening to the new album, Daddy’s Home, by St Vincent. The music is built on all sorts of influences, mostly from the 1970s; the second is that it sounds completely original and contemporary, and I have to work at listening to it; I don’t love it at first listen. There are elements that resonate with me, echoes of other music that I love and make sense to me), — not in entirety, but in a way that makes enough sense that it resonates for me.
Sometimes there’s a sense of harmony (everything fitting together), but also a sense of echo. I know they’re two different things, but I do think they’re closely tied together. And it does make me wonder if, when I take pictures that make me feel like everything is fitting together, it’s also my sense that however original it feels, it’s also the echo of another, earlier feeling. Still thinking about that.
Well, Kim that was some trip. Santana. Samba. WoW. This took me back to my 20’s. I’d forgotten how much I loved Santana. Hours. Hours. Laying on the floor listening to the same album over and over. Samba is woven into my bones. As soon as I clicked ‘try this one’ I was transported. ThankYOU. Now downloaded into my current music library.
Interesting how the forest is magical on a different level at a slow walking rhythmic pace. I stopped, I stooped, I saw. Waiting for me a yellow and black striped snail. I notice in the forest at a slow pace music is everywhere. Slugs, bugs, snails and frogs—calling see me, see me.
One of the things I love about photography is the sense of ‘being in the moment.’ It’s a very different experience than when I look at my photos later. There’s a sense of everything fitting together, working in harmony. It’s a remarkable feeling.
And it’s a lovely word, resonance. It’s got a particular feel to it, (the hold of the ‘z’ sound, and the wave of the ‘on’ giving way to ‘an.’). Saying it feels like mouth music.
There isn’t a lot of music that I think of as ‘love at first listen,’ where everything fits together and makes perfect sense, but when it does happen, it feels remarkable, like everything belongs, like it’s always been there, regardless of how new or old it is.
A friend once mentioned to me that he loved a particular album. ‘I don’t know what it is,’ he said. ‘It just pushes all my buttons.’ I think what he was trying to say was that the album resonated for him.
This week I’ve been listening to the new album, Daddy’s Home, by St Vincent. The music is built on all sorts of influences, mostly from the 1970s; the second is that it sounds completely original and contemporary, and I have to work at listening to it; I don’t love it at first listen. There are elements that resonate with me, echoes of other music that I love and make sense to me), — not in entirety, but in a way that makes enough sense that it resonates for me.
Sometimes there’s a sense of harmony (everything fitting together), but also a sense of echo. I know they’re two different things, but I do think they’re closely tied together. And it does make me wonder if, when I take pictures that make me feel like everything is fitting together, it’s also my sense that however original it feels, it’s also the echo of another, earlier feeling. Still thinking about that.
Well, Kim that was some trip. Santana. Samba. WoW. This took me back to my 20’s. I’d forgotten how much I loved Santana. Hours. Hours. Laying on the floor listening to the same album over and over. Samba is woven into my bones. As soon as I clicked ‘try this one’ I was transported. ThankYOU. Now downloaded into my current music library.
Interesting how the forest is magical on a different level at a slow walking rhythmic pace. I stopped, I stooped, I saw. Waiting for me a yellow and black striped snail. I notice in the forest at a slow pace music is everywhere. Slugs, bugs, snails and frogs—calling see me, see me.