Especially East Jerusalem!

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back

– Lewis Carroll.

Foucault in watermelon.
I also hope to become a subject of fruit sculpture once I am dead.

Truly fine poetry must be read aloud. A good poem does not allow itself to be read in a low voice or silently. If we can read it silently, it is not a valid poem: a poem demands pronunciation. Poetry always remembers that it was an oral art before it was a written art. It remembers that it was first song.

Jorge Luis Borges, The Divine Comedy

Thor Slaying the Midgard Dragon – Henry Fuseli

…Then Thor was angered, and took upon him his divine strength, braced his feet so strongly that he plunged through the ship with both feet, and dashed his feet against the bottom; then he drew the Serpent up to the gunwale. And it may be said that no one has seen very fearful sights who might not see that: how Thor flashed fiery glances at the Serpent, and the Serpent in turn stared up toward him from below and blew venom.
(Prose Edda, Brodeur Trans.)

be open

Truth is always strange — stranger than fiction.
Lord Byron, Don Juan

The work of art that says something confronts us itself. That is, it expresses something in such a way that what is said is like a discovery, a disclosure of something previously concealed.
– Hans-Georg Gadamer, Aesthetics and Hermeneutics

Like that bicycle.

Tell all the Truth but tell it slant–
Success in Circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth’s superb surprise
As Lightning to the Children eased
With explanation kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind–

– Emily Dickinson

[in case anyone (especially the documentary writers) missed the parallel with another profoundly artistic recluse famous only after her death.]

“In this case, Sr Don Alejandro Gomez, allow me to tell you…”
“Say anything you want, but be careful of your words, for I have another bottle handy.”
“Then Sr Don Alejandro Gomez,” he said raising his voice, “you are not a gentleman.”
“Why of course not; of course I’m not a gentleman. I, a gentleman? Since when? How? I was brought up an ass-keeper and not a gentleman! And I didn’t even bring lunch to the man who called himself my father, riding upon a donkey, but walking on foot. Of course I’m no gentleman. Gentlemanliness and me–come now, how absurd!”
– Miguel de Unamuno, Three Exemplary Novels