like a ripple in water..

“I have always been interested in a person’s inner world. I am interested in man, for he contains a universe within himself; and in order to find expression for the idea, for the meaning of human life, there is no need to spread behind it, as it were, a canvas crowded with happenings. I wanted Nostalgia to be free of anything irrelevant or incidental that would stand in the way of my principal objective: the portrayal of someone in a state of profound alienation from the world and himself, unable to find a balance between reality and the harmony for which he longs, in a state of nostalgia provoked not only by his remoteness from home but also by a global yearning for the wholeness of existence. I wanted to pursue the theme of the “weak” man who is no fighter in terms of his outward attributes but whom I none the less see as a victor in this life.”

“My sight, which was my power, now blurs Two invisible diamond spears; My hearing subsides, full of ancient thunder And the breathing of the house of my father. The knots of tough muscles slacken Like grey oxen, lax in the ploughed field; The wings behind my shoulders yield No light when evening darkens. I am a candle. I burned at the feast. Gather my wax when morning arrives So that this page will prompt you How to be proud, and how to weep, How to give away the last third Of happiness, and to die with ease— And beneath a temporary roof To burn posthumously, like a word.”