Comments on: Association of the Week: The Boat

By: Mirela Baron

Mirela Baron — Mon, 30 Mar 2009 10:43:31 +0000

Dear Paul, now,is clear for me that we are all in the same bot,we have all to learn,and I am happy that we are hear to develop betwin sincerely real friends!Sorry to offend you.
My intention was to privent you!
We all make sometimes the mystake to mirrored or identify with other persons!
Neverthless,I hope God will guide us all to interact with eachother more in respect and responsability!-and specially more Love

Love,
Mirela(the woman in elevator)

By: Savita Vega

Savita Vega — Sun, 29 Mar 2009 22:17:14 +0000

In his boat and through the dark he rowed
Chained to the oar and the night and the wind that blowed
Horribly ’round his ears

Under the bridge and into your dreams he soars
While you lie alone in that idea of free sleep of yours
That you’ve been sleeping now for years

…

Beneath the hanging cliffs and under the many stars where
He will move, all amongst your tangled hair
And deep into the sea
And you will wake and walk and draw the blind
And feel some presence there behind
And turn to see what that may be
Oh, babe, it’s me

(Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, “He Wants You”)

By: Nana

Nana — Sun, 29 Mar 2009 16:08:37 +0000

Boat has contact with water, it means balance, calm and silence for me. It looks like passing through the years, thruogh space and time. I imagine a boat on a lake surrounded by green trees, I think it’s about something personal, hided but beautiful. Also a boat reminds me a little of flying, but really slow way of flying, with no blowing wind, just moving.

By: Mirela Baron

Mirela Baron — Sun, 29 Mar 2009 07:59:35 +0000

Then,dear Paul,you have enough time to change the teacher(Master),to learn to dance this beautiful and passionated Dance withought to cause any wounds!

Es schaut so aus als hätte ich mich mit dir angelegt!
Aber ich erinere mir das du gesagt hast,das du adrenalin und gefahr (beim bergauf gehen),sehr liebst…sorry (so endlich).Du verzeihst falls ich was missverstanden habe.

To comme back to “THE BOAT”:I see myself as “BOAT” transporter of the souls of my two children,and the watter in my womb is the perfect “ELEMENT” to support “this beautiful journey!

Love,
Mirela(the woman in elevator)

By: Patrícia Coelho

Patrícia Coelho — Sun, 29 Mar 2009 06:38:17 +0000

I associate the boat with Odysseus and his constant perseverance to complete his journey back home.

By: bAREthoughs

bAREthoughs — Sat, 28 Mar 2009 14:39:07 +0000

My assiate the boat of a transport way of the body, most of this earth is covered with water and a boat makes us able to travel great distrances to see the beatyfull earth and trade goods. Maybee the sailboat sould be upgraded so the water don’t get poluted, by the boats with engine.

By: Alexandra

Alexandra — Sat, 28 Mar 2009 13:22:33 +0000

Sorry,I am helpless.Cant do the thing with the picture.Maybe s easy,but I miss something.

By: Alexandra

Alexandra — Sat, 28 Mar 2009 13:20:03 +0000

Now that I see Tango,I remember the course for dance I took part years ago.I was almost always in pair with a boy younger than me,but much taller.We had so much fun! Especially when it comes to Tango,we used to emphasize the movements …Was really nice time.Memories are sometimes a big treasure chest.

By: Irina S.

Irina S. — Sat, 28 Mar 2009 12:36:16 +0000

thanks cigarra i’ll see what i can do

By: Mirela Baron

Mirela Baron — Fri, 27 Mar 2009 19:26:20 +0000

You may have right,dearst Paul ,but …and don`t be angry of me(PLEASE),just for them who are able to dance TANGO!!!
It is a very passionated and not so easy to dance-discipline!
I know you meent it methaforically,and I found it beautiful!
Specially because I`ve learnt it aprox.3 years!

Don`t beat me ,please with your “special Tango words”!

Love,
Mirela(the woman in elevator)

By: Irina Black

Irina Black — Fri, 27 Mar 2009 18:21:56 +0000

Boat-a capsule for travel to the finite spaces of up-and-down,left-and-right,in-and-out,that imprison our commonsense perceptions of the physical world we inhabit.

By: irena

irena — Fri, 27 Mar 2009 16:12:40 +0000

Boat is for the see. See is life. You can drown. You can swim and be i danger of sharks to eat you. Or you can create a boat. Something of your own hands. And safely get to Itaca.

By: çigarra

çigarra — Fri, 27 Mar 2009 15:31:40 +0000

Ok…ok!
In this blog you can only to do copy and stick the link of your image (-Show image to friends-…to understand us)but in blogs or in comments that approve the images you can copy and stick the link before of -Show…- that is
-Hotlink for Websites-.
Kisses

By: Irina

Irina — Fri, 27 Mar 2009 12:43:54 +0000

Dear cigarra i have the same question as alexandra in what adding the picture is concerned. i did what you said: went on http://www.imageshack.us/, i uploaded a picture, i have all those codes and now? :)) what am i supposed to do next in order to make it appear next to my name here on blog?

By: Alexandra

Alexandra — Fri, 27 Mar 2009 06:42:14 +0000

thanks ,I will try that soon.All the best

By: çigarra

çigarra — Thu, 26 Mar 2009 22:11:19 +0000

Ciao Alexandra, you can search in another open window http://www.imageshack.us/
there you can upload an image of yours in your computer…attend…then choose!
kiss

By: Ilva Aleksejeva

Ilva Aleksejeva — Thu, 26 Mar 2009 20:46:48 +0000

European Boat.
The European Common Market.

By: juhi

juhi — Thu, 26 Mar 2009 18:29:17 +0000

hi paulo,
to me the boat signifies the soul – the atman, the boatsman signifies the master or the guru who takes you – the boat across the ocean of life and death to where you truly belong, for it is only the boatsman – the guru who knows the way………well you can find you own way but you could get lost in sea………and haven’t we spent many lifetimes doing exactly that.
thanks,
juhi

By: treya

treya — Thu, 26 Mar 2009 17:02:23 +0000

No 32. The IChing. Symbol – a boat between two shores. Enduring. That which moves from one place only to return. When one cycle finishes another begins. There is no end – the relationship continues though there are dips and swells, the journey is never broken.

By: Alexandra

Alexandra — Thu, 26 Mar 2009 16:11:47 +0000

About htlm links…So sorry.For me computer language almost equals with Chines…I dont understand much.I wonder how others succeed in adding the picture here.If somebody can help,would be nice,bye

By: Alexandra

Alexandra — Thu, 26 Mar 2009 16:08:20 +0000

The boat.I am not sure if the title is he same,but I try.I had read about Ghilgames and his friend ,brother Enkidu.The text is considered the oldest text ever found,was written on pieces of clay.In that legend,story,whatever was it,at a moment did appear an old man who was building a huge boat for saving the world,and even the bird who was sent by God as sign of peace for humans.Is interesting to notice that stories did repeat in so many places or periods.In order not to get boring,I will avoid to go on with the story.Only I say,that Enkidu was made by Gods and sent on Earth to balance Ghilgames,who was a bad king.Indeed,the two become as twins,completing each other.I think is about the fact that a friend can act as a mirror,showing us our face and deeds .

By: dere

dere — Thu, 26 Mar 2009 15:07:24 +0000

womb..

By: Marie-Christine

Marie-Christine — Thu, 26 Mar 2009 07:58:22 +0000

water
voyage
rock
waves
sea
mean of transport
infinite
distant shores
destination
enigma
return to the source

By: Ca

Ca — Wed, 25 Mar 2009 21:20:49 +0000

Bateau..força, tempete, estrutura, independência, fluidez, viagem, imensidão, infinito, luz…

MARG,

By: Caroline

Caroline — Wed, 25 Mar 2009 20:44:02 +0000

Recently I had to undergo surgery. When I came round from the anaesthetic afterwards it was with a jolt of terror. I rushed into the light of the world from the blackest and darkest of darknesses. For a moment I thought I was in a little boat, rocking on a dark sea. Later I found that they had had difficulty in awakening me.

By: çigarra

çigarra — Wed, 25 Mar 2009 17:10:48 +0000

‘La nave’ Giorgio Gaber

[parlato]: Una nave grande, enorme, che va, va, va. Non si sa dove va, non si sa quando è partita. E sopra: tutti. La nave è la vita.

La nave è come una nave
ed essendo una nave è abbastanza normale che vada in mare.
Il mare, com’è naturale,
immobile e piatto è quasi perfetto sta lì sempre uguale.
La nave ha anche un motore
ed avendo un motore non sa dove va ma continua ad andare.
Avanti, avanti, avanti, si può spingere di più
insieme nella vita a testa in su.

La nave e sopra la nave
a parte le masse, son tutti presenti gli amici e i parenti.

[parlato]: Manca solo il nonno, povero nonno.

Per tutti c’è un buon trattamento
ognuno ha il suo posto nel proprio recinto
mi sembra anche giusto.

[parlato]: Prima classe, seconda classe, terza classe e poi le donne, i negri, eccetera, eccetera.

La nave è una nave di classe,
il legno del ponte è dipinto di bianco è molto elegante.

[parlato]: Bello questo ponte bianco, è un ponte meraviglioso, bianco, guarda che ponte bianco. Non ho mai visto una nave rossa: un po’ volgare effettivamente…

Avanti, avanti, avanti, si può spingere di più
insieme nella vita a testa in su.

Sul mare la nave biancheggia
ha un fascino strano così suggestiva anche quando beccheggia.

[parlato]: È un fascino che di dentro… mi sento poco bene, però,eh.

Ma basta distrarsi la mente
usare il cervello, pensare un istante a qualcosa di bello.

[parlato]: Sì, devo pensare a qualcosa di bello che mi distragga, che mi passa il mal di stomaco. Vediamo un po’, a cosa posso pensare? Alla mia ragazza, sì, a Maria, “Maria la libertà…”, Maria il vomito! (1) Dio… Ecco ce la faccio… sì, sì, mi concentro, ecco sì, sì mi vedo… la mia mano scivola sì, scivola, scivola sui capelli, sì, va giù, giù, sì, sulle spalle, sì, va giù sì, sui seni sì, va giù sì, va giù, va giù… Mi torna tutto su…

Il mare, com’è strano il mare,
non è che non senta la sua poesia ma mi fa vomitare.

[parlato]: Devo pensare a qualcosa di più convincente, a un dolore, un dolore enorme. Al nonno. Sì, al povero nonno. Ha sempre funzionato il nonno. Sì, vediamo un po’… Mio nonno morì tragicamente nel Trentasei, come Gozzano. Gli ero così affezionato, era massone, alto, bel portamento, coi baffi, col fiocco. Aveva sposato la zia di una biscugina, l’Elvira, sì, te la ricordi? Che vita povero nonno. Ogni tanto spariva. Bevitore eh, gran bevitore… a un certo punto il fegato… a pezzi, spappolato, putrefatto… sto male. Mi torna il vomito, devo resistere, non posso essere il primo, devo resistere!

Avanti, avanti, avanti, si può spingere di più
insieme nella vita a testa in su.

Il mare è un po’ troppo vitale
la gente si sbianca ma fa resistenza non vuole star male.

[parlato]: Pensate al nonno! Al nonno!

Sul ponte che è fatto a tre piani
in terza e in seconda e anche in prima si sentono rantoli strani

[parlato]: No da quelli di prima non me l’aspettavo….

Il mare diventa più grosso
dai piani di sopra su quelli di sotto si vomita addosso.

[parlato]: Una battaglia, una battaglia che cresce: quelli di prima vomitano su quelli di seconda, quelli di seconda su quelli di terza. Lo scontro è sfrenato, violento, la gente rimanda, reagisce, boccheggia, un prete esorta a volersi bene, poi si inginocchia e vomita anche l’anima. Un carabiniere mi tiene, allora io mi puntello, cerco di vomitare verso l’alto ma non ci arrivo. Quelli di sopra hanno la meglio, si sporgono più che possono per vomitare, una vera cascata, una violenza, uno scroscio di conati, un rovescio di filamenti, la nave è tutta piena, tutta piena di vomito…

Avanti, avanti, avanti, si può spingere di più
insieme nella vita a testa in su
insieme nella vita a testa in su
insieme nella vita a testa in su

By: Alexandra

Alexandra — Wed, 25 Mar 2009 14:38:03 +0000

I feel blushing.Paul ,Thelma,thanks a lot.You are so very kind.Wish you wonderful time,peace and love.Take care

By: Amitava

Amitava — Wed, 25 Mar 2009 12:04:33 +0000

In the lesser practiced tradition of the Bauls of Bengal, the boat symbolises the body and soul it carries. A mystic Baul sings this beautiful song:
This body of mine – that’s a boat in every sense
Now been released in the name of thee- my guru!
If I am drowned, its a shame on thy name – my guru!

My body was barren and bare
Guru came and made a garden out of it
Today the garden is in full bloom!

I am carrying the fragrance of the garden
In the boat of mine – in thy name – o guru!

Jai Guru
Amitava

By: Rossana Curri

Rossana Curri — Wed, 25 Mar 2009 11:33:09 +0000

I like how things – and thoughts – can change in my own self from day to day.

This morning is really beautiful here: so sunny, warm, with a deep blue sky and a warm breeze.

So, today, the boat to me means just a sailing boat on the lake. A calm silence, that it is not disturbed by the gentle sound of winds on the sail. And, yes, sometime you can also hear some little wave caressing the hull.

Boat is peace, and I like it even when it’s going nowhere.

Love and peace and gentle waves to everyone

Rossana Curri

By: Savita Vega

Savita Vega — Wed, 25 Mar 2009 11:27:46 +0000

Last night, as I went to bed, I lay down and thought of the word “boat” and what it means to me, and as I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep, this is what I saw:

I am standing on a grassy shoreline and the ground beneath my bare feet is soggy. Ss I step into my little, narrow boat, the mud squishes between my toes and cakes on the bottom of my feet. I am alone here, surrounded by mist in this dim light. It is impossible to know if it is dusk or dawn; it is impossible to know if this is a pond, a lake, a river, or perhaps some bay leading out into the infinite ocean. The fog is to thick; I cannot see the opposite shoreline. There is no way to know how long the crossing will take, how much energy it will require of me. I have no paddle. Only one long pole. The water is shallow. I stand at the front of the boat and propel my little wooden vessel, pushing first on this side, then on that. I can feel the mud at the bottom as it sucks at my pole with each thrust. There are reeds and tall grasses jutting up from the surface of the water, and I can hear the sounds of unseen animals – reptilian, amphibian – slithering and padding, falling with a splash, off of half-submerged logs as I pass. I hear grunting and croaking, moaning and growling. A small watersnake slithers up beside me and attempts to reach its head over the lip of my boat, bumping along the side as I glide past, silently, steadily making headway through the mist. And though my arms are growing heavy and my legs tired from standing, the journey proceeds much the same as this through most of the night. Then, just before dawn, I am awakened by the sound of something heavy cutting through the water, someone or something trudging up beside me in the shallows, and I realize with a start, that I am no longer standing, but lying, half-submerged, as in a bathtub, in the bottom of my little boat. For how I have been sleeping, I do not know. My hair is wet; the blue cloak I wear drifts around me, also soaked, floating like an oil-stain upon the water in the bottom of the boat. I awaken with a start, just as a hand reaches out and clutches the prow, pulling me around, and with one heavy push, thrusting my little boat toward the shoreline, where it comes to a sliding halt. And then that same hand reaches out to me, offering to steady me and guide me, as I step out onto new ground. The mists now are behind me – this is dawn. My first reaction is to shrink back, to find cover, to stay were I am, all curled up this small wooden hull. But then I look up to see the face smiling down upon me, and I reach to grasp a familiar hand outstretched before me. In the instant that my hand is enclosed in his, I know that the journey is over. This is the place I am meant to be – this is home.