Welcome back to the second installment of the Friday preview/Monday commentary. Let me know how (or if) you like this “system” for my expositions.
This week’s random choice comes from my second notebook, the green book. I usually write my sonnets in the early morning in pencil, on a steno pad. The roughly 6x9 format fits perfectly for a sonnet and gives me enough room for any style. When I write, I tend to leave a blank line in between the quatrains in an English sonnet, between the octet and sestet for an Italian, and between each tercet when penning a Terza Rima. I will then type the piece on my laptop before committing it to my original ink copies that I keep in my safe, also a 6x9, top spiral notebook, of 92 pages. When I complete a notebook, I change the color of ink for the next. As a child, I always loved the stationery section of a drug store. I always liked to think of myself as a very organized person, and the notebooks, filing cards (I grew up with Dewey Decimal System card catalogs) and multicolored pens bolstered that self image. I’m not really that organized, unless you count my strict disorderliness as some kind of system. But I digress.
Seaport by Claude Lorrain
This is a Crybin variant Petrarchan with a mirrored sestet, ABBACDDC EFGGFE.
Uncertainty #178 Uncertainty can press the mind to wail In darkness cloaked, directed by the winds. And knowing not, the circumstance rescinds Ability to navigate the gales Of all outrageous fortune life provides When seeking that safe haven in the storm. When all seems lost, you only seek the warm Embrace of knowledge so your fear subsides. To turn the tide, you only need to know Your rigging's fixed and rudder set aright. With compass firmly set and wind behind, You set your course, your purpose redefined. That port will come in view by morning's light. These trials faced were meant for you to grow. Frank Garnick © Copyright The Archer's March 07 October 2022
Uncertainty bugs us. When a path forward cannot be clearly seen , we are left in limbo. We feel ourselves at the mercy of capricious fate, unable to walk the steady path of certainty, like groping in the dark. Buffeted by the winds, we grasp at straws. (Yes, line five is a purposeful summoning of the Prince of Denmark. As I’ve said before, my intertextual rips are intentional. The use of these two words enables me to inject all of Hamlet's unease into my octet. Those who do not recognize the reference lose out on the added emotions.) Fear is a byproduct of that which is unknown. Erasure of doubt brings us the comfort of a settled peace of mind.
The Volta guides us to that home port of certainty. As I often do, I return to nautical metaphors. A sea voyage is always an apropos example of the unknown, yet conquerable task. Calm seas do not a good mariner make, and the lens of experience will get the Ship’s Master to his destination. When doubt crowds our minds, and seems to deplete our courage, we need to sit back and take stock of our stuation. Think things through using our intellect when our emotions leave our legs unsure. We’ve prepared for this journey. I don’t here in these final lines provide a guarantee however, the port only comes into view. All our past trials have given us the tools we need to navigate our way up to this point as we approach the harbor. This battle with uncertainty now grants us additional wisdom for the next.
Thank you for reading and have a wonderful day. For those of you in the USA, have a safe and happy Independence Day.
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Fabulous
I envy your methodical approach and particularly your ability to write in longhand. It does affect the way things are composed. I like nautical analogies. It put me in mind of the Christian hymn (!)
Will your anchor hold in the storms of life,
when the clouds unfold their wings of strife?
When the strong tides lift, and the cables strain,
will your anchor drift, or firm remain?