Post by veritywhitethorn on Mar 22, 2015 1:26:37 GMT -6
I haven't really had a go at expressing this to anyone before, so I hope it makes sense...
To me, the fact that Taliesin goes through all the transformations that he does—during the chase immediately after he ingested the drops from the cauldron, and then the subsequent ones he describes in the poetry, about being spears, and different animals and so on—to me this is not just something that happened but it was absolutely necessary in the most fundamental sense, because this is what makes Taliesin the repository of poetic inspiration: he has literally 'been there done that', whatever we are trying to describe, and those experiences of being are available to us to draw from when we undertake creative endeavours (of any sort, but to me, particularly, writing/poetry/stories/creating with words)—and some of those experiences were painful and some were joyous and some were terrifying and some were just everyday, but every time I think about this I kind of want to collapse in wonder and pain that someone could go through what Taliesin did, the sacrifice of it—very much akin to Odin going after the runes...
I tried to to put it into a devotional poem that was worked into a larger thing that I wrote for something else:
... I just get kind of overwhelmed with feelings about Taliesin every now and then, this is one of those times I guess...
To me, the fact that Taliesin goes through all the transformations that he does—during the chase immediately after he ingested the drops from the cauldron, and then the subsequent ones he describes in the poetry, about being spears, and different animals and so on—to me this is not just something that happened but it was absolutely necessary in the most fundamental sense, because this is what makes Taliesin the repository of poetic inspiration: he has literally 'been there done that', whatever we are trying to describe, and those experiences of being are available to us to draw from when we undertake creative endeavours (of any sort, but to me, particularly, writing/poetry/stories/creating with words)—and some of those experiences were painful and some were joyous and some were terrifying and some were just everyday, but every time I think about this I kind of want to collapse in wonder and pain that someone could go through what Taliesin did, the sacrifice of it—very much akin to Odin going after the runes...
I tried to to put it into a devotional poem that was worked into a larger thing that I wrote for something else:
As he now can recall it, his first and only boyhood was spent in waking dreams of how it might feel to be a rabbit or a fish, swift in the grass and sleek under the water, as he stirred the brew of possibilities not meant for him. Time moved more slowly then, in one direction; he sees, now, that it passed with the thick golden inevitability of honey dripping from the cracked comb.
And through all the terrors and the transformations and the telling of long years he would change nothing, not one thing. For the makings pour from his hands and his lips; he knows the being of stars and swords and all glittering creations, the breathing and the still; he knows what it is to be consumed and to die and to be born.
And through all the terrors and the transformations and the telling of long years he would change nothing, not one thing. For the makings pour from his hands and his lips; he knows the being of stars and swords and all glittering creations, the breathing and the still; he knows what it is to be consumed and to die and to be born.
