I was fascinated by this quotation posted by Wordporn. It's from Plato's symposium and it may explain a lot of the angst in this world.
How often do we feel incomplete? Are we plagued with the sense that there is something missing in our lives? Do we find ourselves searching, reaching out, ever hoping to finding a soul mate, or our other half. Then again, maybe they are one in the same.
I know that Plato's idea is a fantasy, but it may also be a metaphor for that sense of loss which creeps into our souls. Do twins feel more complete, for example? Is a life partner all we need or do we also need very close friends? Then again do some people surround themselves with company to mask their loneliness? To what extent do we need to be free, to search for our other half?
Do artists, writers, painters, sculptors etc. try to create, through their work, a projection of their other half? Which characters in novels are the authors' alter ego. Would your "other half" actually be your "other self" or your true self. And is there a difference?
Just some food for thought. It might be fun to discuss these ideas with a literary friend or someone else on a similar wavelength, if you find one :) Most of the people I chat to these days just moan about the weather. I know, I'm one of them. Hmmmm maybe I'm missing something here :)
The picture? The statue of a Jester in Quebec city - someone's funky other half, maybe.
Have a complete day!!