The Explanation
(for those who require one)

And, of course, that is what all of this is -- all of this: the one song, ever changing, ever reincarnated, that speaks somehow from and to and for that which is ineffable within us and without us, that is both prayer and deliverance, folly and wisdom, that inspires us to dance or smile or simply to go on, senselessly, incomprehensibly, beatifically, in the face of mortality and the truth that our lives are more ill-writ, ill-rhymed and fleeting than any song, except perhaps those songs -- that song, endlesly reincarnated -- born of that truth, be it the moon and June of that truth, or the wordless blue moan, or the rotgut or the elegant poetry of it. That nameless black-hulled ship of Ulysses, that long black train, that Terraplane, that mystery train, that Rocket '88', that Buick 6 -- same journey, same miracle, same end and endlessness."
-- Nick Tosches, Where Dead Voices Gather

Artists and Animals #30
They Were Collaborators #593

George Balanchine and his cat Murka, who he trained to do grand jetés, only Murka landed with all four feet, not one.


Marc said...

freakin great photo

Greg said...

It was photographed at just the right moment.

BwcaBrownie said...

"The Washington Post once wrote that

‘Balanchine is to ballet what Tiger Woods is to golf: so far above the competition as to be playing a different game.’

and cats rarely disappoint.

Greg said...

Great quote. Also, cats are wonderful. That's mine in my avatar.