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Mar. 29th, 2020
I was walking last weekend west past Our Lady of Lebanon Maronite Church, in the west of the neighbourhood of Parkdale, when I saw this statue of the Virgin Mary. I had wanted to take a photo of the tatue, framed so nicely by the window behind it and with a coat painted in an earnest sky blue, for aesthetic reasons. I also recalled the old tradition of asking the Virgin Mary to intercede with Christ for mercy in--for instance--times of plague.
This image has turned out to become one of my most popular photos on Instagram, largely because of apparently Lebanese users finding the image via hashtags.
This image has turned out to become one of my most popular photos on Instagram, largely because of apparently Lebanese users finding the image via hashtags.
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The other day, I was walking along College Street in west-end Brockton Village when I saw that someone had written, in chalk on the sidewalk, the lyrics of the Leonard Cohen song "Anthem" from his 1992 album The Future. I had seen similar chalk inscriptions on nearby sidewalks, but this was much the most extensive, occupying eight panels of concrete.
A 2008 live performance of the song by Cohen is as close a we'll have to an official video.
Four years ago, Quartz shared an explanation by Cohen of this song, a rarity.
The full lyrics, of course, are sheer poetry.
A 2008 live performance of the song by Cohen is as close a we'll have to an official video.
Four years ago, Quartz shared an explanation by Cohen of this song, a rarity.
The future is no excuse for an abdication of your own personal responsibilities towards yourself and your job and your love. “Ring the bells that still can ring”: they’re few and far between but you can find them.
This situation does not admit of solution of perfection. This is not the place where you make things perfect, neither in your marriage, nor in your work, nor anything, nor your love of God, nor your love of family or country. The thing is imperfect.
And worse, there is a crack in everything that you can put together: Physical objects, mental objects, constructions of any kind. But that’s where the light gets in, and that’s where the resurrection is and that’s where the return, that’s where the repentance is. It is with the confrontation, with the brokenness of things.
The full lyrics, of course, are sheer poetry.
The birds they sang
At the break of day
Start again
I heard them say
Don't dwell on what
Has passed away
Or what is yet to be
Yeah the wars they will
Be fought again
The holy dove
She will be caught again
Bought and sold
And bought again
The dove is never free
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in
We asked for signs
The signs were sent:
The birth betrayed
The marriage spent
Yeah the widowhood
Of every government
Signs for all to see
I can't run no more
With that lawless crowd
While the killers in high places
Say their prayers out loud
But they've summoned, they've summoned up
A thundercloud
And they're going to hear from me
Ring the bells that still ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in
You can add up the parts
You won't have the sum
You can strike up the march
There is no drum
Every heart, every heart
To love will come
But like a refugee
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in