"Look upon my works, ye Mighty, and despair"

Time for a lazy post, just cut and pasted from an email that I sent yesterday...




I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk, a shatter'd visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamp'd on these lifeless things,
The hand that mock'd them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains: round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

Percy Bysshe Shelley


Does that inscription sound like someone who is comfortable with themselves? I would say not. Money and power is not the answer to living within your own skin (which is a comfort to me). So what is left? To be happy as a dreamer of dreams, a teller of tales, a maker of music, a painter of pictures, a player in the game of life, someone who added to the joy of humanity. I’m beginning to think that realising this is knowing yourself. How could anyone be miserable if they truly believed that they have added to the joy of humanity? I’m smiling as I write this. I can only guess what sort of world we would live in if people believed it was so and valued it…. A world where Bill Gates would look up to Bill Bailey, and Madonna would aspire to be Stephen Fry.

It’s a currency that I’m happy to say, many of my friends are rich in. Now, who could want more?

PS Can you tell I’m in good mood today? (Which is strange – up to my ears in hassle, no jobs yet etc.etc. But the sun is out and the spring is sprung