Le paradis n'est pas artificiel …

January 16, 2012

Ansel & the Thundercloud

From the estimable Letters of Note (don't worry, you guys there, your content is safe; hardly anyone reads this electronic notebook; it is like a harmless old man, flirting with pretty girls at the pub. But I digress from your wonderful letter, which you prefaced like so...)

"In 1936, in the midst of an unrelenting workload and the near-demise of his marriage of 50 years, legendary landscape photographer Ansel Adams suffered a nervous breakdown. After a stay in hospital, desperately in need of escape, Adams then returned with his family to the one place where he could find solace: Yosemite, California.

Some months later, as his health returned, he wrote the following beautiful letter to his best friend, Cedric Wright."


June 19, 1937

Dear Cedric,

A strange thing happened to me today. I saw a big thundercloud move down over Half Dome, and it was so big and clear and brilliant that it made me see many things that were drifting around inside of me; things that related to those who are loved and those who are real friends.

For the first time I know what love is; what friends are; and what art should be.

Love is a seeking for a way of life; the way that cannot be followed alone; the resonance of all spiritual and physical things. Children are not only of flesh and blood — children may be ideas, thoughts, emotions. The person of the one who is loved is a form composed of a myriad mirrors reflecting and illuminating the powers and thoughts and the emotions that are within you, and flashing another kind of light from within. No words or deeds may encompass it.

Friendship is another form of love — more passive perhaps, but full of the transmitting and acceptance of things like thunderclouds and grass and the clean granite of reality.

Art is both love and friendship, and understanding; the desire to give. It is not charity, which is the giving of Things, it is more than kindness which is the giving of self. It is both the taking and giving of beauty, the turning out to the light the inner folds of the awareness of the spirit. It is the recreation on another plane of the realities of the world; the tragic and wonderful realities of earth and men, and of all the inter-relations of these.

I wish the thundercloud had moved up over Tahoe and let loose on you; I could wish you nothing finer.

Ansel


"Letters of a Nation"; Image: Ansel Adams in Yosemite, California, c.1942, courtesy of ck/ck


Posted by delire at January 16, 2012 10:56 AM
Comments

This is something strange. There love story is really different and very unique.

Posted by: Johny Strauss at May 31, 2012 03:56 AM

Pour ne pas être à l'intérieur du comprendre le plus souvent, je suis enclin à n'aimez pas les messages concernant ce sujet progressivement supplémentaires considérez que vous êtes à l'écrire à la mode outre vos moyens personnels, nous avons obtenu de dire, c'est vraiment, vraiment une belle publier de ceux à retenir.

Posted by: abercrombie france at September 5, 2012 07:21 PM
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