Praised be man, he is existing in milk and living in lilies - And his violin music takes place in milk and creamy emptiness - Praised be the unfolded inside petal flesh of tend’rest thought -
(petrels on the follying wave-valleys idly sing themselves asleep) - Praised be delusion, the ripple - Praised be the Holy Ocean of Eternity - Praised be I, writing, dead already and dead again - Dipped in acid inkl the flamd of Tim the Anglo Oglo Saxon Maneuvers Of Old Poet-o’s -
in Ferlinghetti's "Starting from San Francisco", there is a great tender poem about Ginsberg thinking, having visions about, writing DEATH- (one can read it thru Google Books) This is
W.C.Williams 1955 introduction to 'HOWL':
'When he was younger, and I was younger, I used to know Allen Ginsberg, a young poet living in Paterson, New Jersey, where he, son of a well-known poet, had been born and grew up.He was physically slight of build and mentally much disturbed by the life which he had encountered about him during those first years after the first world war as it was exhibited to him in and about New York City.He was always on the point of "going away," where it didn't seem to matter; he disturbed me, I never thought he'd live to grow up and write a book of poems.His ability to survive, travel, and go on writing astonishes me.That he has gone on developing and perfecting his art is no less amazing to me.
Now he turns up fifteen or twenty years later with an arresting poem.Literally he has, from all the evidence, been through hell.On the way he met a man named Carl Solomon with whom he shared among the teeth and excrement of this life something that cannot be described but in the words he has used to describe it.It is a howl of defeat.Not defeat at all for he has gone through defeat as if it were an ordinary experience, a trivial experience.Everyone in this life is defeated but a man, if he be a man, is not defeated.
It is the poet, Allen Ginsberg, who has gone, in his own body, through the horrifying experiences described from life in these pages.The wonder of the thing is not that he has survived but that he, from the very depths, has found a fellow whom he can love, a love he celebrates without looking aside in these poems.Say what you will, he proves to us, in spite of the most debasing experiences that life can offer a man, the spirit of love survives to ennoble our lives if we have the wit and the courage and the faith--and the art! to persist.
It is the belief in the art of poetry that has gone hand in hand with this man into his Golgotha, from that charnel house, similar in every way, to that of the Jews in the past war.But this is in our country, our own fondest purlieus.We are blind and live our blind lives out in blindness.Poets are damned but they are not blind, they see with the eyes of the angels.This poet sees through and all around the horrors he partakes of in the very intimate details of his poem.He avoids nothing but experiences it to the hilt.He contains it.Claims it as his own--and, we believe, laughs at it and has the time and effrontery to love a fellow of his choice and record that love in a well-made poem.
Hold back the edges of your gowns, Ladies, we are going through hell.'
louis and naomi ginsberg
(Mendel Levy, Eugene Ginsberg, Allen Ginsberg, Naomi Ginsberg and Louis Ginsberg,1936
Traherne (cfr. ‘La filosofia perenne’ di Aldous Huxley):
The corn was orient and immortal wheat, which never should be reaped, nor was ever sown. I thought it had stood from everlasting to everlasting. The dust and stones of the street were as precious as gold: the gates were at first the end of the world. The green trees when I saw them first through one of the gates transported and ravished me, their sweetness and unusual beauty made my heart to leap, and almost mad with ecstasy, they were such strange and wonderful things: The Men! O what venerable and reverend creatures did the aged seem! Immortal Cherubims! And young men glittering and sparkling Angels, and maids strange seraphic pieces of life and beauty! Boys and girls tumbling in the street, and playing, were moving jewels. I knew not that they were born or should die; But all things abided eternally as they were in their proper places. Eternity was manifest in the Light of the Day, and something infinite behind everything appeared which talked with my expectation and moved my desire. The city seemed to stand in Eden, or to be built in Heaven. The streets were mine, the temple was mine, the people were mine, their clothes and gold and silver were mine, as much as their sparkling eyes, fair skins and ruddy faces. The skies were mine, and so were the sun and moon and stars, and all the World was mine; and I the only spectator and enjoyer of it. I knew no churlish proprieties, nor bounds, nor divisions: but all proprieties* and divisions were mine: all treasures and the possessors of them.
(So that with much ado I was corrupted, and made to learn the dirty devices of this world. Which now I unlearn, and become, as it were, a little child again that I may enter into the Kingdom of God.)
Troppa luce acceca (Pascal): cfr. Jung (p.e. ‘Frate Klaus’), ‘Kundalini’ di Gopi Krishna
Laing (‘La politica dell’esperienza’)
Wilber: lo spettro della coscienza come itinerarium mentis ad deum (cfr. le esperienze picco di Maslow)
ma è così semplice?
è un meccanismo on/off?
(cfr. Tart: state-specific consciousness, e state-specific sciences)
e poi: il mondo delle visioni è diverso da quello degli incubi?
(‘quando si spengono le luci si accende la luce del Sé’)
Kali (Tantra) cfr. Zimmer (la Grande Dea creatrice e distruttrice)
Anche il messaggio di Krishna ad Arjuna viene dato nel mezzo di una battaglia
ma, sicuramente, c’è guerra e guerra
(‘We knew the world would not be the same. A few people laughed, a few people cried, most people were silent. I remembered the line from the Hindu scripture, the Bhagavad-Gita. Vishnu is trying to persuade the Prince that he should do his duty and to impress him takes on his multi-armed form and says, "Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds." I suppose we all thought that, one way or another’- Oppenheimer, il creatore della bomba atomica, ricordando gli istanti dopo la prima esplosione ad Alamogordo)
THE PYLONS OF THE HOUSE OF OSIRIS
The following shall be said when one cometh to the FIRST PYLON. The Osiris the scribe Ani, whose word is truth, saith: “Lady of tremblings, high-walled, the sovereign lady, the lady of destruction, who uttereth the words which drive back the destroyers, who delivereth from destruction him that cometh.” The name of her Doorkeeper is Neruit.
The following shall be said when one cometh to the SECOND PYLON. The Osiris the scribe Ani, whose word is truth, saith: “Lady of heaven, Mistress of the Two Lands, devourer by fire, Lady of mortals, who art infinitely greater than any human being.” The name of her Doorkeeper is Mes-Ptah.
The following shall be said when one cometh to the THIRD PYLON. The Osiris the scribe Ani, whose word is truth, saith: “Lady of the Altar, the mighty lady to whom offerings are made, greatly beloved one of every god sailing up the river to Abydos.” The name of her Doorkeeper is Sebqa.
The following shall be said when one cometh to the FOURTH PYLON. The Osiris the scribe Ani, whose word is truth, saith: “Prevailer with knives, Mistress of the Two Lands, destroyer of the enemies of the Still-Heart (Osiris), who decreeth the release of those who suffer through evil hap.” The name of her Doorkeeper is Nekau.
The following shall be said when one cometh to the FIFTH PYLON. The Osiris the scribe Ani, whose word is truth, saith: “Flame, Lady of fire, absorbing the entreaties which are made to her, who permitteth not to approach her the rebel.” The name of her Doorkeeper is Henti-Reqiu.
The following shall be said when one cometh to the SIXTH PYLON. The Osiris the scribe Ani, whose word is truth, saith: “Lady of light, who roareth mightily, whose breadth cannot be comprehended. Her like hath not been found since the beginning. There are serpents over which are unknown. They were brought forth before the Still-Heart.” The name of her Doorkeeper is Semati.
The following shall be said when one cometh to the SEVENTH PYLON. The Osiris the scribe Ani, whose word is truth, saith: “Garment which envelopeth the helpless one, which weepeth for and loveth that which it covereth.” The name of her Doorkeeper is Saktif.
The following shall be said when one cometh to the EIGHTH PYLON. The Osiris the scribe Ani, whose word is truth, saith: “Blazing fire, unquenchable, with far-reaching tongues of flame, irresistible slaughterer, which one may not pass through fear of its deadly attack.” The name of her Doorkeeper is Khutchetef.
The following shall be said when one cometh to the NINTH PYLON.
The Osiris the scribe Ani, whose word is truth, saith:
“Chieftainess, lady of strength, who giveth quiet of heart to the offspring of her lord. Her girth is three hundred and fifty khet, and she is clothed with green feldspar of the South. She bindeth up the divine form and clotheth the helpless one. Devourer, lady of all men.” The name of her Doorkeeper is Arisutchesef.
The following shall be said when one cometh to the TENTH PYLON. The Osiris the scribe Ani, whose word is truth, saith: “Goddess of the loud voice, who maketh her suppliants to mourn, the awful one who terrifieth, who herself remaineth unterrified within.” The name of her Doorkeeper is Sekhenur.
Nu, the steward of the keeper of the seal, saith when he cometh to the ELEVENTH PYLON of Osiris: “I have made my way, I know you, and I know thy name, and I know the name of her who is within thee: She who slayeth always, consumer of the fiends by fire, mistress of every pylon, the lady who is acclaimed on the day of darkness” is thy name. She inspecteth the swathing of the helpless one.
The Osiris Nu, the steward of the keeper of the seal, saith when he cometh to the TWELFTH PYLON of Osiris: “I have made my way, I know you, and I know thy name, and I know the name of her who is within thee: Invoker of thy Two Lands, destroyer of those who come to thee by fire, lady of spirits, obeyer of the word of thy Lord” is thy name. She inspecteth the swathing of the helpless one.
The Osiris Nu, the steward of the keeper of the seal, saith when he cometh to the THIRTEENTH PYLON of Osiris: “I have made my way, I know you and I know thy name, and I know the name of her who is within thee: Osiris foldeth his arms about her, and maketh Hapi (the Nile-god), to emit splendour out of his hidden places” is thy name. She inspecteth the swathing of the helpless one.
The Osiris Nu, the steward of the keeper of the seal, saith when he cometh to the FOURTEENTH PYLON of Osiris: “I have made my way, I know thee, and I know thy name, and I know the name of her who is within thee. Lady of might, who trampleth on the Red Demons, who keepeth the festival of Haaker on the day of the hearing of faults” is thy name. She inspecteth the swathing of the helpless one.
THE FIFTEENTH PYLON. The Osiris Heru-em-khebit, whose word is truth, shall say when he cometh to this pylon: “Fiend, red of hair and eyes, who appeareth by night, and doth fetter the fiend in his lair. Let her hands be given to the Still-Heart in his hour, let her advance and go forward” is thy name. She inspecteth the swathing of the helpless one.
THE SIXTEENTH PYLON. The Osiris Heru-em-khebit, whose word is truth, shall say when he cometh to this pylon: “Terrible one, lady of the rain-storm, destroyer of the souls of men, devourer of the bodies of men, orderer, producer, and maker of slaughter” is thy name. She inspecteth the swathing of the helpless one.
THE SEVENTEENTH PYLON. The Osiris Heru-em-khebit, whose word is truth, shall say when he cometh to this pylon: “Hewer-in-pieces in blood, Ahibit, lady of hair” is thy name. She inspecteth the swathing of the helpless one.
THE EIGHTEENTH PYLON. The Osiris Heru-em-khebit, whose word is truth, shall say when he cometh to this pylon: “Fire-lover, pure one, lover of slaughterings, cutter off of heads, devoted one, lady of the Great House, slaughterer of fiends at eventide” is thy name. She inspecteth the swathing of the helpless one.
THE NINETEENTH PYLON. The Osiris Heru-em-khebit, whose word is truth, shall say when he cometh to this pylon: “Light-giver for life, blazing all the day, lady of strength [and of] the writings of the god Thoth himself” is thy name. She inspecteth the swathings of the White House.
THE TWENTIETH PYLON. The Osiris Heru-em-khebit, whose word is truth, shall say when he cometh to this pylon: “Dweller in the cavern of her lord, her name is Clother, hider of her creations, conqueror of hearts, swallower [of them]” is thy name. She inspecteth the swathings of the White House.
THE TWENTY-FIRST PYLON. The Osiris Heru-em-khebit, whose word is truth, shall say when he cometh to this pylon: “Knife which cutteth when [its name] is uttered, slayer of those who approach thy flame” is thy name. She possesseth hidden plans.
‘Here and now’, qui ed ora: continuamente ripetuto dagli uccelli mynah in ‘Isola’ di Huxley (ed una delle parole d’ordine della terapia della gestalt)
e Nagarjuna: tutto ciò che è reale è irreale
tutto ciò che è irreale è reale
Cfr. Campbell- ‘L’eroe dai mille volti’
(il problema dei siddhi, i poteri magici)
una poesia di W.H.Auden (da ‘The Quest’, la ricerca)
XVI. The Hero
He parried every question that they hurled:
"What did the Emperor tell you?" "Not to push."
"What is the greatest wonder of the world?"
"The bare man Nothing in the Beggar's Bush."
Some muttered: "He is cagey for effect.
A hero owes a duty to his fame.
He looks too like a grocer for respect."
Soon they slipped back into his Christian name.
The only difference that could be seen
From those who'd never risked their lives at all
Was his delight in details and routine:
For he was always glad to mow the grass,
Pour liquids from large bottles into small,
Or look at clouds through bits of coloured glass.
come in una risposta dell’I King: ‘dolce delimitazione reca conforto’
( esagramma 60- il 9 nella quinta linea )
3) (o forse, più propriamente, zero)
l’equilibrio fra le parti di noi
fra noi ed il mondo
fra noi e gli altri
fra le diverse descrizioni del mondo
The Crystal Cabinet
The Maiden caught me in the Wild
Where I was dancing merrily
She put me into her Cabinet
And Lockd me up with a golden Key
This Cabinet is formd of Gold
And Pearl & Crystal shining bright
And within it opens into a World
And a little lovely Moony Night t
Another England there I saw
Another London with its Tower
Another Thames & other Hills
And another pleasant Surrey Bower
Another Maiden like herself
Translucent lovely shining clear
Threefold each in the other closd
O what a pleasant trembling fear
O what a smile a threefold Smile
Filld me that like a flame I burnd
I bent to Kiss the lovely Maid
And found a Threefold Kiss returnd
I strove to sieze the inmost Form
With ardor fierce & hands of flame
But burst the Crystal Cabinet
And like a Weeping Babe became
A weeping Babe upon the wild
And Weeping Woman pale reclind
And in the outward air again
I filld with woes the passing Wind
At high noon the sun always coming out at last, strong, beating down on my nice high porch where I sit with books and coffee and the noon I thought about the ancient Indians who must have inhabited this canyon for thousands of years, how even as far back as the l0th century this valley must have looked the same, just different trees: these ancient Indians simply the ancestors of the Indians of only recently say 1860... How they've all died and quietly buried their grievances and excitements How the creek may have been an inch deeper since logging operations of the last sixty years have removed some of the watershed in the hills back there... How the women pounded the local acorns, acorns or shmacorns, I finally found the natural nuts of the valley and they were sweet tasting -- And men hunted deer -- In fact God knows what they did because I wasn't here -- But the same valley, a thousand years of dust more or less over their footsteps of A. D. 960 -- And as far as I can see the world is too old for us to talk about it with our new words -- We will pass just as quietly through life (passing through, passing through) as the 10th century people of this valley only with a little more noise and a few bridges and dams and bombs that wont even last a million years -- The world being just what it is, moving and passing through, actually alright in the long view and nothing to complain about -- Even the rocksof the valley had earlier rock ancestors, a billion billion years ago, have left no howl of complaint -- Neither the bee, or the first sea urchins, or the clam, or the severed paw -- All said So-Is sight of the world, right there in front of my nose as I look, -- And looking at that valley in fact I also realize I have to make lunch and it wont be any different than the lunch of those olden men and besides it'll taste good -- Everything is the same, the fog says "We are fog and we fly by dissolving like ephemera, " and the leaves say "We are leaves and we jiggle in the wind, that's all, we come and go, grow and fall" -- Even the paper bags in my garbage pit say "We are man transformed paper bags made out of wood pulp, we are kinda proud of being paper bags as long as that will be possible, but we'll be mush again with our sisters the leaves come rainy season" -- The tree stumps say "We are tree stumps torn out of the ground by men, sometimes by wind, we have big tendrils full of earth that drink out of the earth'... Men say "We are men, we pull out tree stumps, we make paper bags, we think wise thoughts, we make lunch, we look around, we make a great effort to realize everything is the same" -- While the sand says "We are sand, we already know, " and the sea says "We are always come and go, fall and plosh. " -- The empty blue sky of space says "All this comes back to me, then goes again, and comes back again, then goes again, and I don't care, it still belongs to me" -- The blue sky adds "Dont call me eternity, call me God if you like, all of you talkers are in paradise: the leaf is paradise, the tree stump is paradise, the paper bag is paradise, the man is paradise, the fog is paradise" -- Can you imagine a man with mar-velous insights like these can go mad within a month? (because you must admit all those talking paper bags and sands were telling the truth) -- But I remember seeing a mess of leaves suddenly go skittering in the wind and into the creek, then floating rapidly down the creek toward the sea, making me feel a nameless horror even then of "Oh my God, we're all being swept away to sea no matter what we know or say or do" -- And a bird who was on a crooked branch is suddenly gone without my even hearing him.
'Russian President Vladimir Putin said this week that U.S. military capabilities in the Arctic Circle leave his government little choice but to maintain a strong foothold in the frigid north, where tensions between the former Cold War adversaries in recent years have heated up as the polar ice thawed.'
Università degli Studi di Bergamo DIPARTIMENTO DI LETTERE E FILOSOFIA Scuola di Dottorato in Antropologia ed Epistemologia della Complessità Centro di Studi Storici Transdisciplinari ISHTAR
Questo secondo ciclo di Seminari in continuazione con i precedenti incontri tenuti dal settembre 2011 a marzo 2012 sulle discipline psichiatriche, si propone di riprendere e approfondire alcuni temi e alcune questioni emersi lo scorso anno, oltre che provare a ripercorrere il pensiero e il contributo fornito da alcuni pensatori e psichiatri italiani. A partire dagli anni sessanta, la riflessione di questi studiosi intorno alle pratiche della psichiatria, fornì un rilevante apporto teorico che contribuì a mettere radicalmente in discussione le concezioni fino ad allora prevalenti sulla malattia mentale e le conseguenti prassi e metodi di trattamento adottate nei riguardi delle patologie psichiatriche più gravi, come le psicosi e le sindromi schizofreniche e deliranti. La scelta degli autori è stata ispirata, oltre che dall'importanza dei loro notevolissimi contributi teorici per la comprensione delle diverse forme psicopatologiche dell’esistenza, dal loro incessante impegno volto a tentare di riformare e trasformare quelle consolidate concezioni orientate a mantenere una rassicurante separatezza fra la follia e la ragione, fra i pazienti e i cosiddetti sani. La loro speculazione ebbe come denominatore comune un fecondo atteggiamento critico nei riguardi dei modelli prevalenti intorno alla malattia mentale con la creazione d’innovative chiavi di lettura indirizzate a de-costruire il prevalente paradigma dell’esclusione e della reclusione, suggerendo conseguenti approcci ermeneutici rivolti a ritrovare un senso in quelle esperienze estreme dell’esistenza che sono nominate come follia. Sono stati invitati a riassumere i concetti più importanti elaborati da questi pensatori, loro allievi, collaboratori o amici che condivisero quello spirito di ricerca e le domande che tali autori si posero. Sembra oggi assolutamente doveroso provare a ripercorrere e rilanciare quei contributi che rischiano di essere dimenticati, entro l’attuale predominio di un procedimento delle cure predisposto a divenire pericolosamente sempre più “tecnico”, smarrendo proprio quell’anelito ideale e umanistico rivolto a contrastare ogni approccio semplicistico e riduttivo, intenzionalità che costantemente spronò quegli studiosi e che rimane anche oggi requisito irrinunciabile e essenziale nell’approccio alle patologie della psiche. Il pensiero e le speculazioni di questi autori, che non mancarono di occuparsi approfonditamente degli aspetti antropologici ed epistemologici della cura e del senso della follia, peraltro ben si coniugano con le teorie della complessità che hanno in questi anni ispirato l’indirizzo di questo dottorato di ricerca. Gli altri argomenti dei Seminari sono stati scelti tenendo conto delle indicazioni e dei suggerimenti forniti dai partecipanti al corso del primo anno, tentando di mantenere l’interesse per una riflessione e un dibattito che possa proficuamente interrogarsi sulle forme che assume la follia e sui suoi significati nonché sui fondamenti antropologici ed epistemologici che animano la ricerca delle più opportune forme della cura.
PROGRAMMA: Prima giornata Venerdì 10 maggio ore 14,30 aula 6 - Se la diagnosi non è una profezia Professor Giuseppe Dall’Acqua. Università Trieste Seconda giornata Venerdì 14 giugno ore 14,30 aula 6 - Italo Valent: “Condividere la follia”. Le ragioni della follia e la follia della ragione. Professor Graziano Valent Università di Brescia Terza giornata Venerdì 20 settembre 2013 ore 14,30 aula 6 - Carlo Zapparoli: Ascoltare la follia, insegnare ad apprendere e la saggezza clinica. Dottoressa Maria Clotilde Gislon ISERDIP Milano Quarta giornata Venerdì 11 ottobre 2013 ore 15 aula 7 - Franco Basaglia e la psicoanalisi. Il concetto d’inconscio collettivo e inconscio istituzionale. Professor Paolo Tranchina Psicologia concreta – Firenze
Quinta giornata Venerdì 8 novembre 2013 ore 14,30 aula 1 - Dalla catapulta ai neuroni specchio. Come le metafore della neurologia influenzano il pensare intorno al pensare. Professor Michele Capararo Università Cà Foscari Venezia Sesta giornata Venerdì 22 novembre 2013 ore 15 aula 1 - Persona e malattia mentale: Terapia o Cura? Quali tempi, quali luoghi, quali soggetti coinvolti? Dottor Giovanni Pezzani, Dottoressa Simona Gambara, Dottoressa Monica Moioli, Associazione Familiari, Associazione Volontari. Settima giornata Venerdì 13 dicembre 2013 ore 15 aula 1 - Sartre, la psicoanalisi esistenziale e l’anti-psichiatria. Dottor Giacomo Conserva- Già Direttore SPDC Parma, Condirettore KASPARHAUSER, psichiatra e psicoterapeuta. Ottava giornata Venerdì 17 gennaio 2014 -Follia e creazione. Il caso clinico come esperienza letteraria Professor Pietro Barbetta Università di Bergamo Nona giornata Venerdì 7 febbraio 2014 -Vieri Marzi: “Se non sei disposto a cambiare il mondo con lo psicotico non puoi curarlo” Professor Alessandro Ricci Università Verona Decima giornata venerdì 7 marzo 2014 -Phantastica umana. Elvio Facchinelli e la psicoanalisi. Dottoressa Andrèe Bella, Università Milano Bicocca Undicesima giornata venerdì 28 marzo 2014 -Sergio Piro e il metodo diadromico e delle antropologie trasformazionali. Professor Raffaele Galluccio DSM Reggio Emilia
Il ciclo di Seminari di quest’anno è stato organizzato con la collaborazione di due associazioni per la salute mentale, l’Associazione Liberamente di Lovere (BG) e l’Osservatorio per la Salute mentale “Mi riguarda” di Mantova. L’auspicio e che tal esperienza possa trovare ulteriori adesioni e essere mantenuta anche negli anni a venire. Per informazioni, suggerimenti, richieste di adesioni e proposte si può prendere contatti con il Dottor Giulio De Nicola firstname.lastname@example.org Al termine di ogni seminario sarà rilasciato l’attestato di partecipazione, gli incontri si terranno presso la Sede dell’Università degli Studi di Bergamo sita in Piazzale Sant’Agostino.
"Che cos'è la 'società psichiatrica avanzata'?" (Risposta a una domanda di Nanette Miles)
"DELIRI", di Antonella Moscati [Edizioni Nottetempo, 2009]
'and do not go' (ancient song) [and is this Imaginary, Symbolic, or Real? is jouissance going to be shared? or is it all contained and realized in this image, in this music?) And, finally, like I wrote once, will there be some prize for me after all, all of this time?]
'Andrea Alciati' [G.Conserva, 'POLISCRITTURE' n. 3, 2007]
'Quello che il manicomio era quando funzionava' [rispondendo a Giulio]
'What is the "advanced psychiatric society"?' (This being a question asked me by Nanette Miles)
(TAO TEH CHING)
A late reply to a question asked me: “SOMETHING LIKE MACRO PSYCHOLOGY… DO YOU KNOW THE NAME FOR IT? AND DOES IT EXIST?”
Aerei Patriot e muraglie di fuoco
Beyond the advanced psychiatric society: POSITION PAPER
Breve nota teorica, estratta dal commento a "Ixy"/ A short theoretical note, extracted from the comment to "Ixy"