I‘m not joking inappropriately or meaning to be humorous, funny, annoying, silly, improper. It’s just that this rare word has the vowels “a, e, i, o, u” in that order. It’s funny. Not that kind of funny
We have been living in ordinary time. Not green days between Easter and Advent, but gray days without color or romance. I count the days, pray for intimacy, want to rewind time to our spring.
Ordinary Time (Latin: Tempus per annum) is the part of the liturgical year in the liturgy of the Roman Rite between Christmastide and Lent, and between Eastertide and Advent. The liturgical color assigned to Ordinary Time is green. The last Sunday of Ordinary Time is the Solemnity of Christ the King. The “ordinary” cames from “ordinal” for the numerals that mark these weeks of the seasons of Christmastide and Eastertide starting with the 1st week of Ordinary Time in January to the 34th week that begins toward the end of November.
The garden of earthly delights is vast. I can’t take it all in immediately. No one can. And so many delights seem like horrors. Is that like Life? Is one’s delight just another person’s horror?
The manacled blue flutist and the devil sitting on his night chair eating someone, rightfully frightened me as a child and that hasn’t changed. Is this Earth or Hell? I do not want either place.
The Garden of Earthly Delights is the modern title given to a triptych oil painting on oak panel painted by the Early Netherlandish master Hieronymus Bosch, between 1490 and 1510. It is kept at the Museo del Prado in Madrid.
The painting must be viewed at a much larger size than shown here to be appreciated, but in the detail at the top of this post, you can see a group of nude females from the center panel. The head of one female is adorned with two cherries—a symbol of pride. To her right, a male drinks lustfully from an organic vessel. Behind the group, a male carries a couple encased in a mussel shell.
Little is known of Bosch’s life or intentions. The symbolism is intricate. There have been many scholarly interpretations over the centuries. Modern interpretations still wonder if (particularly the triptych’s central panel) is meant to be a moral warning or a panorama of a paradise lost. Is this an admonition of worldly fleshy indulgence? Is it a warning on the perils of life’s temptations? Is it an evocation of ultimate sexual joy?
Joy is the furthest from what I feel looking at the painting. Earthly is also far from what I see. As a young person, I thought it depicted some kind of Hell.
October 27, 1962, she writes about “Ariel.”
An airy spirit from Shakespeare’s The Tempest
and the horse she would sometimes ride.
All captured, trapped, until “Then to the
elements, be free, and fare thou well.’
Prospero commanding Ariel by John White Abbott (1763–1851)
The following February after writing the poem – on February 11, 1963 – Sylvia would commit suicide. The poem was published after her death.