"... in linen fine as winding cloth ..." thank you Patti for sharing this very moving chapter. i just found a copy of the THE CORAL SEA in a used books store. so nice to be able to feel the touch of your words. xxxB
Gumby will never get old. This night’s reading about Passenger M was particularly moving. Clearly, it was particularly emotional for you. You read it so beautifully. I listened to it a second time, keeping the volume quite low and lying down with my eyes closed. The part about his realizing his selfhood, recognizing that he needed to be his own father, etc., touched me deeply. Thank you for sharing so very, very well! 💜
My Gumby story has nothing to do with this beautiful reading. But once upon a time in 1981 I was walking along the sea wall in Stanley Park in Vancouver with a friend. Back then, on that day, we had partaken of something that made us appear, to ourselves, to be moving quite slow. She said her legs felt like Gumby, and when I turned she was 10 paces behind me, so I said, and like Pokey which resulted in us rolling in the grass laughing so hard until we realized people were kind of looking at us. So long ago but it still makes me laugh.
How did I miss this one? Wow I loved Gumby as a kid I don’t remember the show. But I would always steal my sisters Gumby and play with it as a kid. Loved the reading. It seemed familiar; but too new for me as a child. Maybe I read it to my granddaughter? Loved this.
Patti, when you said 9:14 is a "beautiful number" you smiled and then I saw what seemed to be so much emotion journey across your face. And felt it must be related to your late husband Fred...
I learned that that number, was the day he was born, September 14th - 9/14 - 9:14... a beautiful number indeed.
I came here to gain strength because, although a fighter, I do not know how I am going to face something that is happening, and if I had to pick one piece of literature that expresses where I am, it would be this. Again.
Patti, you shine a light because you know the darkness. To see and hear you read this as you did, to know how deeply you had to dig to write this is impossible to conceive.
“The Pedestal,” is as if you carved the words with your hands. It manages both affluence - “The spiritual sea was the sea of Turner” - and an awe-inspring directness that shocks one out of any stupor induced by the eloquence: “And he must be to himself his own son and his own father and his own companion. To love and elevate oneself as a god pressing against the blue and burning into form.”
Reading this wrenching section I thought of these words from the poem “Lovers' Infiniteness” by John Donne:
“Or if then thou gavest me all,
All was but all.”
Life, there is never enough. Patti, thank you for your presence and your poetry. It is my comfort and strength. And to everyone, my thanks.
I’ve been thinking about this passage all day. So many amazing thoughts and comments here already.
For me, the question, “What cord would bind him?” stands out, as does Passenger M’s realization that, “He must be to himself his own son and his own father and his own companion”. He can see himself in the long looking glass as he dresses; there is his tangible human form, and yet he has already, in many ways, departed. He is in the process of transforming.
He sees with utter clarity now: “The beauteous complexity of the self in its purity and its vanity was poised revealed to him”. Images of blue permeate the verse: the cobalt glass of the inkwell; the pressing and burning against the blue as the traveler becomes, at last, the purest essence of himself. The “torso of cloud” that we see is really the pale white-blue of the iceberg adrift and diminishing even as it enlarges the sea into which it vanishes.
A very challenging and moving piece of work that is painful, lovely, and sorrow-inducing all at once. It must have taken courage to read aloud. A beautiful tribute. Thank you for sharing it in this way.
"... in linen fine as winding cloth ..." thank you Patti for sharing this very moving chapter. i just found a copy of the THE CORAL SEA in a used books store. so nice to be able to feel the touch of your words. xxxB
Gumby will never get old. This night’s reading about Passenger M was particularly moving. Clearly, it was particularly emotional for you. You read it so beautifully. I listened to it a second time, keeping the volume quite low and lying down with my eyes closed. The part about his realizing his selfhood, recognizing that he needed to be his own father, etc., touched me deeply. Thank you for sharing so very, very well! 💜
My Gumby story has nothing to do with this beautiful reading. But once upon a time in 1981 I was walking along the sea wall in Stanley Park in Vancouver with a friend. Back then, on that day, we had partaken of something that made us appear, to ourselves, to be moving quite slow. She said her legs felt like Gumby, and when I turned she was 10 paces behind me, so I said, and like Pokey which resulted in us rolling in the grass laughing so hard until we realized people were kind of looking at us. So long ago but it still makes me laugh.
How did I miss this one? Wow I loved Gumby as a kid I don’t remember the show. But I would always steal my sisters Gumby and play with it as a kid. Loved the reading. It seemed familiar; but too new for me as a child. Maybe I read it to my granddaughter? Loved this.
Beautiful, so much emotion 🦋
Beautiful, always.
Dear Patti,
This was such a beautiful reading. Thank you!!!!
It really hit me "And he must be to himself, his own son and his own father and his own companion". Those words... really hit hard.
Thank you for sharing the photo from Lyn Davis. Just beautiful.
Patti, when you said 9:14 is a "beautiful number" you smiled and then I saw what seemed to be so much emotion journey across your face. And felt it must be related to your late husband Fred...
I learned that that number, was the day he was born, September 14th - 9/14 - 9:14... a beautiful number indeed.
And Passenger M, Our Beloved.
I love you Patti and I am starting to love soo many of your other fans that post here!
I have a Gumby doll still, I just want to say :) WE are all Gumby ,Dammit, walking thru Patti's works
Beautiful, thank you🤔🩷☮️
So, Gumby is your new guitarist?
Dear Patty,
Hope that this is not too hard, too sad for you.
Thank you
Dear Patti, dear friends,
I came here to gain strength because, although a fighter, I do not know how I am going to face something that is happening, and if I had to pick one piece of literature that expresses where I am, it would be this. Again.
Patti, you shine a light because you know the darkness. To see and hear you read this as you did, to know how deeply you had to dig to write this is impossible to conceive.
“The Pedestal,” is as if you carved the words with your hands. It manages both affluence - “The spiritual sea was the sea of Turner” - and an awe-inspring directness that shocks one out of any stupor induced by the eloquence: “And he must be to himself his own son and his own father and his own companion. To love and elevate oneself as a god pressing against the blue and burning into form.”
Reading this wrenching section I thought of these words from the poem “Lovers' Infiniteness” by John Donne:
“Or if then thou gavest me all,
All was but all.”
Life, there is never enough. Patti, thank you for your presence and your poetry. It is my comfort and strength. And to everyone, my thanks.
With gratitude and affection,
Robin
I’ve been thinking about this passage all day. So many amazing thoughts and comments here already.
For me, the question, “What cord would bind him?” stands out, as does Passenger M’s realization that, “He must be to himself his own son and his own father and his own companion”. He can see himself in the long looking glass as he dresses; there is his tangible human form, and yet he has already, in many ways, departed. He is in the process of transforming.
He sees with utter clarity now: “The beauteous complexity of the self in its purity and its vanity was poised revealed to him”. Images of blue permeate the verse: the cobalt glass of the inkwell; the pressing and burning against the blue as the traveler becomes, at last, the purest essence of himself. The “torso of cloud” that we see is really the pale white-blue of the iceberg adrift and diminishing even as it enlarges the sea into which it vanishes.
A very challenging and moving piece of work that is painful, lovely, and sorrow-inducing all at once. It must have taken courage to read aloud. A beautiful tribute. Thank you for sharing it in this way.
Thank You Patti
Have a Beautiful Night too.