Great beauty from great despair unbends the mind.
In a pointless hostile universe that is every poet’s goal.
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Arts, Media & Culture News with 'tude
by Jan Herman
Great beauty from great despair unbends the mind.
In a pointless hostile universe that is every poet’s goal.
an ArtsJournal blog
My mother was always happy it seemed to me. To the point that I sometimes thought her to be simple minded. But I was the morose fool and she the wise. She had six children and died of Lou Gehrig’s disease at age of 52 – leaving scars behind and memories of a blithe spirit. Oddly enough I ran away from New Jersey to New York, we are twinned, dear cousin. Nice workings! And wondrous as always from Gerard.
To be struck down by ALS is awful, doubly so for a blithe spirit. The courage to run away doesn’t come easily. It takes guts to run away.
My experience would merit a line from Rodney Dangerfield. When I was 10, I told my mother I wanted to run away. She helped me pack.