Sunday, November 10, 2013

Romanticism

Night of the Albatross


We have come lifted toward freedom from a spirit of hope and optimism full run down to disappointment, no hope and
despair echoing the fatalistic whirls of the French, Soviet and other Revolutions. They have killed the Albatros and the answer, as Blake, Wordsworth and Colleridge would do has to be a redemption of words and paintings of a new caliber, opening up another dimension to human liberty
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Xu3mhKc6jg&noredirect=1http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Xu3mhKc6jg&noredirect=1

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I6PXklQY0pQ 

William Wordsworth. The Prelude

London

By William Blake

I wander thro' each charter'd street,
Near where the charter'd Thames does flow. 
And mark in every face I meet
Marks of weakness, marks of woe.

In every cry of every Man,
In every Infants cry of fear,
In every voice: in every ban,
The mind-forg'd manacles I hear 

How the Chimney-sweepers cry
Every blackning Church appalls, 
And the hapless Soldiers sigh
Runs in blood down Palace walls 

But most thro' midnight streets I hear
How the youthful Harlots curse
Blasts the new-born Infants tear 
And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse 


Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Richard N. Foster's Creative Destruccion