"Such a large sigh is forwarded in advance" - Johannes Brahms
On a completely shallow note, if I were to have fallen in love with a composer, it would have been Johannes Brahms. What a man.
Sincerely.
His music is "full of sex appeal, only, it is, at the same time, so full of many other important qualities, that the former is not obtrusive. his work is like a super-vital person, well fused and balanced, splendidly sexed, but also endowed so richly in all sorts of other ways, mentally and emotionally, the the sensuous is forced to keep its appropriate place in the scheme of life."(1)
See how my mind rambles. Now let's think about the focus of sensuality and the erotic impulse with its effect on the arts.
Admit it, today's society seemingly has sex on their mind 24/7. At least, that's what the media would have you think, and perhaps it's true. I, personally, do not (think about sex 24/7) - however, I'm told that I am an oddity in many ways (at the age of 20 I neither drink nor smoke, this is a topic for a different blog post I feel). Would I consider myself a passionate person? Completely. Everyone should find themselves impassioned with something, whether it be travel or coffee or biking or some other seemingly ubiquitous activity. The direction of this seemingly primal force need not be emphasized purely physically, there are other outlets. Perhaps it's the true Masters that have learned how to focus that seemingly instinctual energy in other ways.
There is a seeming loss of appreciation for the true beauty that is love and the actions that may accompany it. When the terminology or the phraseology has gone from "making love" to "doing it" or "banging" there is a serious loss of respect that I feel should be given to the action. Making love is truly a creative process, hence the phrase "making love". Love, one of the world's most powerful and driving emotions is being created (supposedly).
For some reason, I feel as though I have digressed.
Passion. Driving passion. I've got it, I'm merely learning how to properly direct it.
Do you? Are you?
On a completely shallow note, if I were to have fallen in love with a composer, it would have been Johannes Brahms. What a man.
Sincerely.
His music is "full of sex appeal, only, it is, at the same time, so full of many other important qualities, that the former is not obtrusive. his work is like a super-vital person, well fused and balanced, splendidly sexed, but also endowed so richly in all sorts of other ways, mentally and emotionally, the the sensuous is forced to keep its appropriate place in the scheme of life."(1)
See how my mind rambles. Now let's think about the focus of sensuality and the erotic impulse with its effect on the arts.
Admit it, today's society seemingly has sex on their mind 24/7. At least, that's what the media would have you think, and perhaps it's true. I, personally, do not (think about sex 24/7) - however, I'm told that I am an oddity in many ways (at the age of 20 I neither drink nor smoke, this is a topic for a different blog post I feel). Would I consider myself a passionate person? Completely. Everyone should find themselves impassioned with something, whether it be travel or coffee or biking or some other seemingly ubiquitous activity. The direction of this seemingly primal force need not be emphasized purely physically, there are other outlets. Perhaps it's the true Masters that have learned how to focus that seemingly instinctual energy in other ways.
There is a seeming loss of appreciation for the true beauty that is love and the actions that may accompany it. When the terminology or the phraseology has gone from "making love" to "doing it" or "banging" there is a serious loss of respect that I feel should be given to the action. Making love is truly a creative process, hence the phrase "making love". Love, one of the world's most powerful and driving emotions is being created (supposedly).
For some reason, I feel as though I have digressed.
Passion. Driving passion. I've got it, I'm merely learning how to properly direct it.
Do you? Are you?
1. Schauffler, Robert Haven. "The Unknown Brahms." Vail-Ballou Press, Inc. November, 1933.
