Today concluded with the out-loud readings of various favorite lines from the Metamorphoses. I ended up settling on a passage describing the state of natural mourning after the gruesome death of Orpheaus(this after my orginal choice, which comes slightly afterward, was read by another).

The birds, in mourning, wept

o Orpheus--the throngs of savage beasts,

and rigid stones, and forests, too--all these

had often followed as you sang; the trees

now shed their leafy crowns-as sign of grief,

their trunks were bare. They say that even streams

were swollen; yes, the rivers, too shed tears.

The aesthetic clincher for me was that last bit, about how even the rivers shed tears. Odd and lovely for being so.

Also learned were things of etimological(sp?) value. Apparently the Joycean rendering of "phenomenal" is "funanimal". So if something is phenomenal, it is an animal having fun?

And this I found quite piquant. The word ate, which is Greek, and means infatuation to the point were you have ruined your life(numerous stories from Ovid obviously would fall under this category, but I was reminded--probably because I re-watched the film version not so long ago--of The English Patient, which may be in congruence or not). But apparently this, according to Plato's Socrates, is ends up truly giving life a real essence; and hence art.

This information came up as Mr. Sexson was reading Carly's blog entry, which if I may say so was quite eloquent and thoughtful.

And here I now am, left to ponder the existence and drawing out from insubstantial vapor the music of the spheres...