Morgan, I see you working towards a "blue style," one that enacts a blurring of its own focus, or the yielding up of rhetorical control— reminding me of what Emerson set out to do with the essay form, inspired by Montaigne, to write "ahead" of the thought, not in the wake of it. You are striving to do what Joan Mitchell was trying to do with paint ("try" in the sense of "test," because by definition there can be no "product" here, no finished surface. Blue makes no claim, as the other colors do.
I like this, Morgan, especially the idea of blue as a verb. Night blues a forest (just google 'forest at night' to see the transformation.) Your 'meadow in the moonlight' brought to mind the Schumann song, Stille Tränen, from a poem by Justinus Kerner: The sleeper awakes at night and wanders through the meadow, under a sky that is 'wonderblue'). And here's a recording by Thomas Hampson: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uikUYImqgCA
Morgan, I see you working towards a "blue style," one that enacts a blurring of its own focus, or the yielding up of rhetorical control— reminding me of what Emerson set out to do with the essay form, inspired by Montaigne, to write "ahead" of the thought, not in the wake of it. You are striving to do what Joan Mitchell was trying to do with paint ("try" in the sense of "test," because by definition there can be no "product" here, no finished surface. Blue makes no claim, as the other colors do.
I like this, Morgan, especially the idea of blue as a verb. Night blues a forest (just google 'forest at night' to see the transformation.) Your 'meadow in the moonlight' brought to mind the Schumann song, Stille Tränen, from a poem by Justinus Kerner: The sleeper awakes at night and wanders through the meadow, under a sky that is 'wonderblue'). And here's a recording by Thomas Hampson: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uikUYImqgCA
Stille Tränen
Du bist vom Schlaf erstanden
Und wandelst durch die Au’,
Da liegt ob allen Landen
Der Himmel wunderblau.
So lang du ohne Sorgen
Geschlummert schmerzenlos,
Der Himmel bis zum Morgen
Viel Tränen niedergoss.
In stillen Nächten weinet
Oft mancher aus den Schmerz,
Und morgens dann ihr meinet,
Stets fröhlich sei sein Herz.
Silent Tears
English translation © Richard Stokes
From sleep you have risen
And walk through the meadow.
Everywhere lies
Heaven’s wondrous blue.
As long as, free of care, you have
Been slumbering, free of pain,
Heaven has, till morning,
Poured down many tears.
Often on silent nights
Many a man weeps his grief away,
And in the morning you imagine
His heart is ever happy.
A wonderful essay. It brought to mind Klein blue and "the blue hour" (Didion) and also "Bluets" (Maggie Nelson's book).