Lumen Gloriae fully realized today – 3/24/72
that brings to completion the fullness of the work – what was needed was the realization that came on
the 22nd – not arrogance to say that not since the Commedia has there been a work equally complete -
the analogy works because the work along the same lines – in fact, the 3 titles unifies title forgone the
true Dantesque interpretation, which if used would work wonders….By equally complete
I don’t mean as to characterization but as to Spiritual realization: the there planes have been fully
expressed – the fourfold complement of the contemplative brought to bear upon the Trinity the God
head, that is, establishment subsistence there without a doubt but hidden the numbers part of the
poem – both poems stir thruout wherever stressed: The Prefiguration Quadrifariam Lumen Gloriae is the truest reading of the Commedia.
From the standpoint of the seven directions correspondences; but from the standpoint of the fourfold complement of the contemplative - union identity.
The fourfold is not a geometrical figure, it is a state of meanings; therefore, the fourfold the contemplative The Trinity equals 10 the Spiritual structure: only aspectual if the geometrical the numerical remain in Spirit: if not, then the meaning is clear: release perfection.
Should there still be despair at this stage of one’s life? If a man claims realization, then to admit defeat is to invalidate all his work. This would be true if he was writing autobiography; but since the opposite is the case, it’s just a question of going the way of the stage of vision.
It is not wrong to speak openly of the angel as the presence at the moment of composition.
In my experience it has always been so. A radiance appears, the head becomes visional, that is, a fullness of effulgence takes place in such a way that the physical body is shed, the spiritual body as pure spirit, no where sensed except as the seer.
Does this have any meaning within the context of city life? Yes! where man are there is walks,
spiritualization. A market place is proverbial for its insistence that activistic sentiments are of the very
stuff of human life, and yet the man of God is not touched. He moves as seer, re-orienting all phenomena dissolving them at the center of the heart.
When the angel illuminates the single eye the spirit walks the land reaping integration at
every insight, the recollection of the lack of illumination not a warning for the victorians to gloat over
but a mirror revealing forever habitation. The perfected state is the realization that the mirror
(the recollection) is superimposition.
Not so much a wooded area where an angel crouches over a pool giving itself up to the final
light of the day, nor the spirit by a stream contemplating the same phenomenon, but a fusion of both the image waters from the waters.
Then there is the state of the man at one with the angel, and the consciousness that composition takes its intelligence from such companionship, as well as the consciousness of the loss
that leaves the language dead dull and literal.
For the artist only the work is representation of completion – not the life. The modern artist is way off, preferring the man to the work, the embodiment of Spirit the spirit.
Can anything be more condensed (packed) then quel de passuri e quel de’ passi piedi-
Piedi is Christ viator
- Sleep to the world and rise to God
eagle’s eye in profile
Traiano acclivity’s fast
Dunque nostra veduta, che conviene essere alcun de’raggi della mente….
is not a variance with susumna – however, the following verses that complete the above
tell us how far nostra veduta alcun dei raggi can go
The key to an accurate translation of the last of Paradiso Canto XX is in the balance
between lo guizzo and le fiammetta –
There’s loneliness however in all this my work walking as I do, taking in fresh air,
the wider avenues teasing with greater blue, but I’m there anyway.
-exhaustion is on the side of achievement, never on the side of inspiration: proof that
(true) art (lofty) can in no sense be tied up with genitalia – and even the freeing of
genitalia cometh from above
Credette Cimabue nella pittura tener lo campo, e ora ha Giotto il grido, si che la fama di
Cimabue thought to hold field in printing and now Giotto has the cry, so that the other’s
America a Prophecy an image of gross man evolving grossly….
- In life we’re under the burden of death, but in art we’re in spirit – therefore,
for their benefit life and art come together only under ad infinitum: from the above
it’s clear why one’s Eternal, the other incomplete, that is, indefinite, that is, not
-only under the glorified body (thru Lumen Gloriae) the advantic is our art Eternal (whole)-
as for the other, given the conditions it spins for itself, body and soul must perforce and
ever shall be divided.
Ben m’accors’io ch’elli era d’alta lode, pero ch’a me venia Resurgi’e Vinci’ come a colui che
non intende e ode
I noticed well that it was of high praise, since “Rise” and “Conquer” come to me, as to
one who doesn’t understand yet hears.
To distrust vision is to own up to the fact that such pointedness can only curtail the
effectiveness of discourse.
there’s an assumption
I is viable alive and kicking –
who cares anymore
- we exist too much in a space too free
Where has all my poetry gone? it has gone with my youth, my struggle, my lack of
understanding of outcome.
- It’s true that in Dante at times one has to disentangle in order to reconstruct for sense –
but that’s true of all poetry of concentration – in the original es it is (not to be disentangled)
it is a wonder.
Pantheism is all on the side of corporeality, because God and His creatures are said to be
- the crux of the matter is not true but he’s there
now only absence or better faster or blur of streetlight
….di se shessa uscio key phrasing for higher meaning, especially of weighed against the
il mio disio e il vella remain for right
a quise di corona, si coronava il bel zaffiro, la coronate fiamma is maria Regina Coeli key
to our receptivity thru purest receptivity (hers) del quala il ciel cui chiaro s’in zaffira (re which
the clearest heaven in sapphires itself)
The art of translation is what it is – we can expect so much, but not more.
moon on roof
snow in wood