Greetings Readers!
Apologies for the lack of emails over the last few days; I experienced a power outage from the recent hurricane. Thankfully, all is well. You can expect a few additional meditations in the coming week.
Here is the next volume of our series — The Wisdom of Art. This series invites us to pause from our busy lives to explore the wisdom of art and poetry.
Here is a painting, a poem, and a bit of prose…
Consider becoming a paid member for full access to this series, Sundays with Seneca, The Wisdom of Art, and other benefits. If you cannot afford it, feel free to request a complimentary membership or use this discount link.
1. The Gleaners (Painting)
Jean-François Millet's oil work The Gleaners was created in 1857. It is by far the most recognizable of Millet’s works. The Gleaners depicts a trio of women gleaning the last bits of wheat from a field, linked to stories of the Old Testament. The public received the painting with open scorn. It presented what at the time were the lowest ranks of society, taking advantage of the age-old right to remove the last bits of grain left over from wheat harvest in a sympathetic light. It was not until after the artist’s death that it became more popular.
Every subject is good. All we have to do is to render it with force and clearness. In art, we should have one leading thought and see that we express it in eloquent language, that we keep it alive in ourselves, and impart it to others as clearly as we stamp a medal. Art is not a pleasure trip but a battle, a mill that grinds.
— Jean-Francois Millet
Contemplation Exercise:
Consider taking some uninterrupted time to observe the painting.
Simply notice what arises…
What makes this painting a timeless piece…
2. Sea Fever (Poem)
I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky, And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by, And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking, And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking, I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied; And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying, And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying. I must down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life, To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife; And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover, And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Perennial Meditations to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.