Posted: Wed Mar 14, 2018 9:11 pm
We had the WEIRDEST weather phenomenon ever yesterday.
...snow-fog!?!
I think it was changing into droplets of water or vapor as it fell, so a very foggy effect.
All while the sky was filled with snow slowly wafting to the ground.
It was enchanting.
...snow-fog!?!
I think it was changing into droplets of water or vapor as it fell, so a very foggy effect.
All while the sky was filled with snow slowly wafting to the ground.
It was enchanting.
After the somewhat irascible Mr. Rochester (whose ward Jane Eyre, a governess, has in her charge) expresses that he is, perhaps, impressed with some of her sketches, he questions her about them...Sorus wrote:My Jane Eyre knowledge is somewhat deficient, so I look forward to that.Linna Heartlistener wrote: Consider me to owe you a quote from Jane Eyre on this!
Then later the dialog about satisfaction (and the lack therof) in ones art picks up again... I had forgotten the reaction of Mr. Rochester:Charlotte Bronte wrote:"...I perceive those pictures were done by one hand: was that hand yours?"
"Yes."
"And when did you find time to do them? They have taken much time, and some thought."
"I did them in the last two vacations... (etc.)"
"Where did you get your copies?"
"Out of my head."
"That head I see now on your shoulders?"
"Yes, sir."
"Has it other furniture of the same kind within?"
"I should think it may have: I should hope--better."
He spread the pictures before him, and again surveyed them alternately.
While he is so occupied, I will tell you, reader, what they are: and first, I must premise that they are nothing wonderful. The subjects had, indeed, risen vividly on my mind. As I saw them with the spiritual eye, before I attempted to embody them, they were striking; but my hand would not second my fancy, and in each case it had wrought out but a pale portrait of the thing I had conceived...
(descriptions of the pictures follow)
C. Bronte wrote:"And you felt self-satisfied with the result of your ardent labours?"
"Far from it. I was tormented by the contrast between my idea and my handiwork: in each case I had imagined something which I was quite powerless to realise."
"Not quite: you have secured the shadow of your thought; but no more probably. You had not enough of the artist's skill and science to give it full being; yet the drawings are, for a school girl, peculiar. As to the thoughts, they are elfish. These eyes in the Evening Star you must have seen in a dream. How could you make them look so clear, and yet not at all brilliant? for the planet above quells their rays. And what meaning is that in their solemn depth? And who taught you to paint wind? There is a high gale in that sky, and on this hill-top. Where did you see Latmos? For that is Latmos. There! put the drawings away!"