"Dew" - An inconsiderately short poem

"Dancing 'til the dawn does break,
Icy droplets drench your skin.
Sing the rain of heart-freed life.
Weeping, stars collide within."

For Mishy

Wishing to hold you
But too far away
Wanting to cry
But there's too much to say

If I could see your face
Just feel your embrace
My life would be amazing
But I'm stuck in this place

My style, my self

If art is an expression of who I am... An extension of who I am... What does it mean when I lose that ability? When I lose my style, have I lost myself as well? I cannot draw a thing that feels 'right.' So... What do I do? How do I find my self that has been lost?

What do I do?

Shape Writing

Love is feeling the touch of an old friend's hand after years of distance. The relief of the first embrace in so long a time as hearts reunite... the feeling shrouds me, protects me. The anticipation and excitement have died down; all that remains is a rightness. Puzzle pieces -- treasures I entrusted to her with my last parting glance so long ago -- fit themselves back into their specified notches in my heart. I am complete, together. Her resting form slumped against me, breathing steady and slow, is peace. I cannot imagine an end to our time; I will not allow myself to imagine it. I love her, my dearest friend. I will keep my Mishy forever.

Apollonian and Dionysian Principles

Apollonian and Dionysian Principals:

Camille Paglia’s Knowledge of Greek Mythology

Camille Paglia, author of Sex, Art, and American Culture, wields a proficiency with Greek mythology; this extensive knowledge becomes apparent to anyone flipping through the author’s aforementioned book. Paglia often refers to Apollo and Dionysus, the Greek gods of knowledge and ecstasy, respectively, in her writings. She claims art is represented by two principles derived from these ancient deities, Apollonian and Dionysian principles. They are described as “a cyclic pattern of expansion and retraction, of the shapeless and the definitive” (102).

Paglia wants to reset the terminology of “art” and “culture” to their previous historical usage. She believes that “art” should apply to all things man-made. Even in the sense of architectural and engineering projects, the identity as “art” still applies. Every creative venture is “art,” regardless of the medium. However, while these creations are “art,” the “questions of quality [are] still operative” (102). Though Paglia marks these as “art,” she does note the different levels of creative ease in the modern age of mass media. While simultaneously expressing sympathy toward the literary wordsmiths, she confesses her envy of musicians as well as her submission to music’s power. She admits her longing for “a prose of Classic structure yet romantic fire,…both clarity and passion, eternal opposites of Apollo and Dionysus” (116).

Within Sex, Art, and American Culture, Paglia repeatedly references characters of ancient Greek lore. In multiple instances, she brings up the Greek poet Homer. In one mentioning, Paglia summarizes and compares a scene from the epic poem The Odyssey to Sappho’s poem “He seems to me a god.” Painting vivid imagery with her delicate wording, Paglia contrasts the meeting of Nausikaa and Odysseus in the formerly mentioned poem with the direction of thought toward an unaware woman in the latter. She reveals her interpretation of the two poem’s comparative idea of “love” as fresh and lively versus isolated and afflictive.

In an argument on sexism and feminism, Paglia repeatedly refers to the Greek poems. She brings up in this argument that “Helen, Circe, and Calypso tell us much more about the magic irrationalism of sex than do the bitterly anti-male tracts of current feminism that underlie the Presbyterian report” (34). The mentioning of Socrates’ chaste behavior by the lovely Alcibiades ties into Paglia’s Apollonian designation, being Chastity in this case.

She weaves the lore through her arguments, calling through to her past as well. As she has stated, she is “the Sixties come back to haunt the present” (250). Speaking with her vast understanding of Greek mythology, Paglia states that, unlike the rest of the Sixties, she honors Apollo and Dionysus equally. She claims that the Sixties polmicists trivialized Dionysus as simply ‘pleasure,’ rather than his true nature, ‘pleasure-pain.’ She also goes on to explain her belief that “no art form, not even Greek tragedy in Athens’s Theater of Dionysus, ever gave full voice to the Dionysian” (106). Another statement of Paglia’s points out her theory that Rock ‘n’ Roll’s Romanticism better conveys Dionysian ideas.

In another explanation of Apollonian values compared alongside Dionysian values, Paglia writes, “Bird and Worm: Apollo and Dionysus, sky-cult and earth-cult, illumination and mystery” (122). She calls the Apollonian “sharp-edged” and the Dionysian “melting” (45).

Paglia does bring light to extremist possibilities, calling Western Apollonian-ism “a cold, desiccated fetishism of pure I.Q. divorced from humor, compassion, ethics, eroticism, [and] wisdom” (224). She touches on the topic of Modernization as well. Once again mentioning the Greek influence on modern society, Paglia claims the modern technological world is a product of Greek and Roman mathematics, sciences, and analytical thought processes. According to Paglia, education “must simultaneously explore and explain the world’s multiculturalism while preparing the young to enter the Apollonian command-system” (239). She ties this back into her love of art and creativity by explaining her desire for ethnic descendants to “retain their creative duality” (239).

With all of Paglia’s knowledge of Greek mythology, it is clear as to why she possesses such ease in relating it to her topics in writing. Paglia knows what she is talking about. Her prowess on this topic paved the way for her other intellectual endeavors. Paglia is an example of studious intelligence.

Work Cited

Paglia, Camille. Sex, Art, and American Culture: Essays. New York: Vintage, 1992. Print.