Tuesday, February 24, 2015


Cupid's Forge, Edward Burne-Jones, 1861


In Cupid's forge
soul heats up.

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1. Assemble of Foules, Chaucer (Assembly of Fowls)

“Under a tree, beside a welle, I seye,
Cupide our Lorde, his arrows forge and file;
And at his feet his bow already lay;
And wel his doughter tempred al the while
The heddes in the welle; and with her wile
She couched hem after, as they should serve
Some to slee and some to wound and kerve,
Couched and arrayed in order sorted”

2.  During the Apollonic era of western civilization, Thalia retained the highest metaphor assigned as the era’s collective soul or inner image-pattern, “the music of the spheres”. The heart itself is a metaphor for the inner life of Thalia or soul-making's aesthetic, "poetic" sense. Each heart has its own intellect. One must bring one’s own intellect into Cupid’s Forge and into the service of Thalia’s psyche-making. And, as one can see from the painting, Thalia’s home lies within a fundamental darkness whereby Cupid’s crimson supplies bright love.

Then, too, I may suppose, should I lose contact with this soul of Thalia whereby a fundamental darkness roots me in the service of this other making, a making which allows her soul to displays its sense to me, the image of Thalia singing the music of the spheres would render—not Thalia but a Silent Thalia. I will not have heard her soul’s inner life singing within my heart its own soul logical felt-sense.

It is in such moments one’s own egoic desires must die back, become pruned like a vine or shorn like a lamb; one must become small again like a child in service to the inner life’s mastery and its space where her dark blossoming may bring new likeness into bloom and fruits in fleshed soul-making.