Odysseuse on the Move

The New Version

2011-05-02T10:05:00.002-04:00

Hurray, hurray, the First of May:
Osama Bin Laden is dead today!

A Story Demon

2011-04-25T19:24:00.002-04:00

A horrible green demon held in captivity the beauty of the world. And then, a miracle: the Firebird swooped down, vanquished the demon and set free the beauty - the white maidens and their lovers, the handsome young men.

This will be the subject of painting number five.

Memorial Day, May 31, 2010

2010-05-31T19:38:00.002-04:00

It has been a day of mixed grieving, sorrow for those who have died in wars everywhere, but also for certain friends and loved ones. There is no loneliness more empty and cold than knowing we can never meet again on this earth, and that the laughter we have shared has turned to tears - sincere and uncontrollable.

I thank my friend of many years, Jean Ullrey, who said a silent prayer in church yesterday for me. She has always reminded me that a stack of interesting books waiting to be read, and time to read them in comfort, is one blessing we have in common.

More about everything I can think of will be in the following blogs. I will welcome my Twitter and Facebook friends and I do hope to read a comment from them now and then in answer to questions posed here, if any.

What Janus Saw and Sees

2010-01-01T22:56:00.002-05:00

TwentyTen: Janus saw the full moon rising, a true Blue Moon, a double treat. We will not write about the past for we know its content. With Janus we look ahead, not knowing what we may see but only what we hope. I think of that little poem about the meaning of life, true in its simplicity: the meaning of life is to live.

Shall We Pas de Deux?

2009-12-19T19:27:00.003-05:00

Is Ballet a contact sport? On May 28, 2005 I posted remarks on Odysseuse on the Move which are relevant during this Christmas Season. Here are some excerpts: Professional ballet dancers, male and female, are well-trained athletes. The men appear to have superhuman strength as they perform their leaps and turns and seem to hover in midair. They also lift and join the fragile ballerinas in dance - but it must be remembered that the small and fragile female dancers are also athletes, feminine and graceful though they are. Every muscle in a dancer's body is strong as steel and flexible as rubber. Ballet is a strenuous discipline; its dancers may perform at their best for a limited number of years.

As a young ballet student I was surprised to find that several members of the Chicago Bears football team had been ordered by their coach to join our beginning class. Why? It seems the men would benefit on the field from the agility of movement attained in classwork. Is ballet a contact sport? The answer is obvious.

His Like Shall Not Be Seen Again

2009-08-26T22:02:00.003-04:00

Senator Edward M. Kennedy died August 25, 2009, The title I used on this blog may not have been quoted accurately, but it reflects my feelings. MSNBC told us the sad news early this morning. It wasn't as if we hadn't been forewarned.

I took it hard and suddenly felt I didn't want to be by myself, sorrowful and lonely. I went to a fine bakery and bought a dozen beautifully decorated cake slices - a cheerful note which I brought as a treat to our office for our three excellent maintenance men and our apartment manager. Cheerful note or not, the five of us - Louise, Paul, Gary, Al and I - were of one mind: sad.
We talked about Teddy as if we'd known him personally and discovered our politics agreed. It was good to be with others. I went back upstairs to my apartment and the office crew enjoyed coffee and cake.

There has been nonstop coverage of Ted's achievements, his friends, political and personal, and his family. Health care for all citizens may receive a boost and actually happen. And my jaunt to the bakery and to the office helped relieve my dark mood.
The funeral arrangements have been made, and I shall watch it as closely as I watched his brother John's.

Back To Normal

2009-08-02T22:30:00.002-04:00

Well, hello! If it's August 1, 2009 then surely something happened since the little green man with the curly yellow top whirled himself away on May 1? Marguerite Louise a/k/a Odysseuse has found herself wishing to react in prose, and at length, to events both public and private. Twitter is all right, but blogging has a satisfying scope. So here go the chips and let them fall where they may. If the previous sentence sounds familiar to you, then you are of my generation no matter what your age in years! See you later, alligator! Gloryosky, it feels good to be writing to you again.

Hurrah Hurrah! The First of May!

2009-05-01T08:17:00.002-04:00

Odysseuse greets you once more with a tribute to the First of May.

Where Do They All Come From?

A little green man
in a fluffy yellow hat
underneath the rim
of a toadstool sat.

He twirled his finger
and he twitched his toe,
he looked at his watch
and said "Time to go!"

He jumped to his saucer
and quickly spun away
but he left his yellow hat
on the field of May.

Marguerite Louise Monette

Here's your chance to indulge in a bit of doggerel: fill in the blanks in the following lines.

Hurrah, Hurrah, the First of May!
Outdoor (blank, blank) starts today!

Have fun!

A Valentine Phenomenon

2009-02-12T16:42:00.002-05:00

When we walk we float
over curbs, skirt open manholes,
teeter on brinks, oblivious:
nothing exists but us.

Through some phenomenon of mind
other people fade, become transparent,
disappear.

And yet I see you clearly
and I know that you see me.

The Other Side of July

2008-07-09T13:15:00.003-04:00

At the toe edge of a footprint in warm dry earth
A tomato worm, ruptured, just past agony, still;
Velvet-moss skin, riven, emits yellow-green effluent,
Bulging obesity suspended in slime.

The shadow of a hand sweeps across the blight,
Dims the shining ooze and withdraws,
Leaving behind a sprig of stalk,
Ragged leaf, yellow star blossom,
And a bitterspice pungency in the air.

MLM

Wimbledon 2008: Toreador Si!

2008-07-07T16:30:00.002-04:00

Rafael Nadal was declared the Wimbledon Champion, his first victory in that grass court match. Roger Federer had won at Wimbledon five times in a row and was trying to win number six in order to excel Bjorn Borg's five consecutive wins. He came within a few seconds of breaking Borg's record, and the four hour plus match will go down in Wimbledon history as a once in a lifetime event.

The bullfighter and the fencer (see previous post) met and proved that differing techniques are equal when it comes to winning, although in this case the fencer lost. Tennis fans are looking forward to many years of competition between Roger and Rafa, the One and the Two in the world, both supreme athletes and gentlemen. The sports world can be proud of them.

Wimbledon 2008: The Bullfighter or The Fencer?

2008-07-05T14:04:00.002-04:00

Rafael Nadal (Spain) and Roger Federer (Switzerland) will compete for the 2008 Wimbledon title tomorrow, July 6

Nadal is mentioned first, although he is second in the world of tennis to Federer's first place. This comelately sports reporter (tennis only) is highly prejudiced in Roger's favor but is striving for a neutral position as befits a person of Swiss descent.

Wimbledon 2007 ended with Federer and Nadal vying for the title which ended in a five set final won by Roger. It was then that this reporter became aware that tennis is not a game for weaklings but is for serious and competent athletes, and, played well, is worthy of close attention and enthusiasm.

The rules of tennis and its scoring are complicated. Much can be learned on various websites devoted to tennis, including live scores for matches that cannot be seen on TV but are of enormous interest. TV coverage provides a good way to analyze the players' techniques. Nadal moves as if he is in the bullfight ring out-maneuvering a raging opponent who must be dominated and vanquished. Federer moves with a fencer's speed and agility as well as strength and will to win. Both are formidable players.

Our hearts and minds will be on Centre Court in London tomorrow. May the best man win. Go Roger! Go Rafa!

Fantasy for the Fourth

2008-07-04T03:24:00.003-04:00

In deep dark dusk
a golden trumpet's piercing note
fractures an invisible rainbow,
flings its colors skyward
in myriad shapes of ephemeral light.

The 1812 Overture explodes,
celebrates in joyous noisy cannonades
our beloved country's birth.

Ghost ships on the Potomac
briefly glow and fade.

Marguerite Louise Monette

Hurrah Hurrah! The First of May!

2008-05-01T09:45:00.002-04:00

This is my oft-repeated tribute to the First of May.

Where Do They All Come From?

A little green man
in a fluffy yellow hat
underneath the rim
of a toadstool sat.

He twirled his finger
and he twitched his toe,
he looked at his watch
and said "Time to go!"

He jumped to his saucer
and quickly spun away
but he left his yellow hat
on the field of May.

Marguerite Louise Monette

Here's your chance to indulge in a bit of doggerel: fill in the blanks in the following lines.

Hurrah, hurrah, the First of May!
Outdoor (blank blank) starts today!

A few words about March 2008

2008-03-27T21:40:00.002-04:00

It has come to my attention that I have written 90 essays for this blog and a few poems. All of the content here reflects my thoughts and attitudes. Anyone who wants or needs to know can scroll down to the right side of this essay and read the titles of more or less current blogs. Anyone who seeks further information can scroll down a bit farther and go to the archives - and take your chances on what you might find there.

There has been no word of either politics or religion here, not because I am not engrossed in those subjects but because I began these essays with a determination not to get involved in arguments and controversies, with one notable exception having to do with the political philosophy of Machiavelli. It is revealing to recognize Machiavelli's touch which he expounded in the fifteenth century and which informs the politics of Now. If you type the name of Machiavelli in the search box near the top of this essay you will be reading the first and the last word about the man and his schemes.

Tennis, golf, and figure skating competitions on TV are a pleasant escape from the game of politics. I am proud of tennis star Roger Federer and of his golfing friend Tiger Woods. And all of the figure skaters who bring us athleticism, dance, and music.

There has been some interest in the history of our family - but that is for another day. We are as unique as any other family. I have filled in some of the blanks in previous blogs, but, of course, much more can be written.

Janus Shrugged...

2007-12-31T21:52:00.000-05:00

and, looking backwards through my eyes, sloughed off the year as being unworthy of further notice. The media are bringing to our attention, in condensed form, all of the details we have observed through 2007, as if we need reminding.

There has been joy and love of friends and family, otherwise the year would have been that of unremitting disasters, not personal but personally felt. So - we are ready, 2008! Tomorrow Janus will have the forward view, optimistic and hopeful that events will justify a good beginning.

December Fast Forwards to Janus

2007-12-01T16:52:00.000-05:00

December, slipping, sliding and stressing towards the Holidays, consumed with preparations, there is little time to to think about and to dwell upon, what the mythical Janus foresaw as 2007 began and what he may be looking back upon twelve months later as 2008 begins. He is a convenient metaphor for short term history.

Many good and sincere resolves were made on New Year's Day 2007. Some were kept. Some were forgotten. Afterthought might say those ignored aims deserved oblivion, or that they are perhaps worthy of reconsideration. Janus accepts reruns!

Cinnamon Sugar Days

2007-11-26T14:58:00.000-05:00

Before November slips away into the frenzy of December, it must be acknowledged that it has its own special beauty. The gorgeous gaudy hues of autumn have faded to shades of russet; bare black branches form traceries against the horizon, and the earth reveals its true and lovely contours. It is also the time when a first light powdery snowfall sprinkles down and creates a cinnamon sugar effect, hiding nothing: the enhancement of November.

November 1, 2007

2007-11-01T19:35:00.000-04:00

This poem by Dixie Willson is a favorite one.

The Mist and All

I like the fall,
The mist and all.
I like the night owl's
Lonely call --
And wailing sound
Of wind around.

I like the gray
November day,
And bare dead boughs
That coldly sway
Against my pane.
I like the rain.

I like to sit
And laugh at it --
And tend
My cozy fire a bit.
I like the fall --
The mist and all.

Dixie Willson

Personal note: this poem is one I wish I had written.

An Answer to Tah's Blog

2007-08-04T11:07:00.000-04:00

Tah had been tagged with, and answered to, this question: What can you not live without? My answer is far more simple since it has many more years behind it, but even so it requires explanation. It is

Love

Love takes many forms. This essay will deal with music, dance, and death, all of which have taken form in four oil paintings and one still in imagination.

Painting # 1: Circus Music oil on canvas 60" X 44".The sound of circus music echoes through childhood memories. This painting hangs in my living room. Its cheerful colors and design reflect my love of all that has gone by.

Painting # 2: Waltz oil and gold leaf on canvas 60" X 60". Dance and music are combined. The swirling design is the movement of the dancers as they waltz. Gold leaf lines are the movement of the dance across the ballroom.

Painting #3: Jazz oil and gold leaf on canvas 60" X 44". This is a reflection of how to listen to jazz. It begins with an overall straightforward theme and ends with improvisation on that theme, wild and free and joyous.

Painting #4 Requiem oil and gold leaf on canvas 60" X 44". This is a dark painting in honor and blessing to the souls of the dead as exemplified in some of the most glorious music. A streak of gold leaf in the darkness represents solace and hope.

Painting #5, unfinished, has to do with The Firebird ballet, another combination of music and dance.

My artwork since the early years at The School of The Art Institute of Chicago has reflected love of life.

Think about this: What would be your answer to what you cannot live without? I am tagging no one with this multi-faceted question except myself.

The Elysian Trumpet & Hurricane Katrina

2007-07-15T18:05:00.000-04:00

David Monette has given this blogger permission to post the following. The content is self-explanatory. It was composed and approved by Irvin Mayfield, Jr.

David Monette's Anniversary Trumpet, hand-built for Irvin Mayfield, Jr., of the City of New Orleans, is dedicated to the memory of Irvin Mayfield, Sr., and all of the victims of Hurricane Katrina.`

The Fellowship of the Elysian Trumpet

Through music we experience the voice of God and the promise for the departed to have eternal rest and peace. This custom-designed, hand-crafted presentation instrument has been created to honor the memory of all who perished due to Hurricane Katrina. Its design celebrates the rich musical and cultural heritage of New Orleans and the sounds of its jazz legends. Jazz has been the heart of this city since the days of marching bands and Louis Armstrong. Today this indigenous music is more important than ever.

The cultural strength of jazz moves us from our disaster to a new beginning that celebrates our history and gives us the inspiration and blessing of the many who have gone before us. We commissioned this instrument from David Monette, the modern master of trumpet design. Monette and nationally known artist and goldsmith, Tami Dean, and his other co-workers have been collaborating for nearly 25 years. They create instruments that both visually and accoustically celebrate the lives of their clients and their extended musical families. Monette trumpet owners often say that their custom-made instrument is perfect to tell their own unique story.

The Elysian Trumpet will have a brushed 24k gold finish. Its braces will be decorated with icons and symbols representing New Orleans' deceased heroes and many of our jazz legends and cultural icons. These icons are meticulously saw-pierced through the metal braces. Saw-piercing is a highly specialized technique for which Ms. Dean has become famous. The valve casing of the trumpet is prominently decorated with a striking fleur-de-lis. The instrument is adorned with jewels and semi-precious stones. A beautiful turquoise Mississippi River runs the length of the instrument and a brilliant faceted ruby marks the location of New Orleans.

The hurricane motif is cut into the sheet bracing and along the bell of the instrument. The finger buttons are inlaid with Mardi Gras colored semi-precious stones. Lilies are cut into most every element of the instrument in keeping with the Elysian Fields theme. Music will emerge from the bronze bell of this instrument in the spirit of our own New Orleans sound, with its street fight bravura, its bordello high spiritedness, and its marching band regality.

The application of unique new computer design and fabrication technology, plus his traditional craftsmanship make the Elysian Trumpet both esthetically and accoustically the most beautiful trumpet David Monette has ever created. This visually stunning accoustic masterpiece serves as a portable monument to the deceased. The Elysian Trumpet will be a tangible and breathing monument to the future of the City of New Orleans. Through every valve and passage, the trumpet will serve as a reminder of the continued presence of the souls who entered eternal life in the hurricane's aftermath. The Elysian Trumpet, dedicated to the fallen, is intended to create clear and noble notes that signal triumph and rebirth.

Named for the mysterious Elysian Fields of Greek mythology, as well as the street in the Gentilly neighborhood in New Orleans where Irvin Mayfield, Sr.'s body was found after dying due to Hurricane Katrina, this singular instrument is both a unique work of art and a living testimonial to all of the saints who fell throughout the city. The Elysian Trumpet is joyfully presented as a sign of remembrance and a beacon of resurrection to the great City of New Orleans and its people.

There will be more to say about the Elysian Trumpet as time nears for its completion in September. See David Monette's website for future details.

Fantasy for the Fourth

2007-07-04T21:31:00.000-04:00

In deep dark dusk
A golden trumpet's piercing note
fractures an invisible rainbow,
flings its colors skyward
in myriad shapes of ephemeral light.

The 1812 Overture explodes,
celebrates in joyous noisy cannonades
our beloved country's birth.

Ghost ships on the Potomac
briefly glow and fade.

Marguerite Louise Monette

One of the Three Best Days

2007-07-01T10:03:00.000-04:00

In one form or another there has appeared here a version of the best days: The Day After Christmas and The First Day of a Three-Day Snowstorm. There is a third: The First of August in Two Lands.

In America there is the Fourth of July and in Switzerland its equivalent is the First of August. The following was composed in tribute to both and constitutes the third best day.

The machinery of Spring
and early summer is mostly quiet,
after the labor and sweat,
the ache and fatigue endured for weeks.
Heavy cartloads of soil and peat
have been spread.
Flowers blossom where weeds
battled for space.
Nature's pastels have given way
to stronger hues.
Fruits and vegetables ripen, are ready.
Neighborhood cats have heeded
watery warnings: birds feed free.
Two months yet before leaf-raking.

My birth country on this day
counts its age in centuries of peace.
I, citizen of both lands, am American
by choice and love.

Hurrah, Hurrah, the First of May! Again!

2007-05-01T08:39:00.000-04:00

This is my yearly tribute to the Month of May: we need to lighten up.

doggerel loosely styled and irregular in measure, esp. for burlesque or comic effect; also, marked by triviality or inferiority

Where Do They All Come From?

A little green man
in a fluffy yellow hat
underneath the rim
of a toadstool sat.

He twirled his finger
and he twitched his toe,
he looked at his watch
and said, "Time to go!"

He jumped to his saucer
and quickly spun away,
but he left his yellow hat
on the field of May.

Marguerite Louise Monette

If you have ever tended a lawn, you are familiar with him.

There is another little piece of doggerel that is chanted each May 1 in this household:

Hurrah, hurrah, the First of May,
(Something something) starts today!

Create your own doggerel - substitute your own words for those in the paretheses!

Dark April

2007-04-17T18:48:00.000-04:00

Columbine, then; Virginia Tech, now. Two massacres of the innocents occurred in Aprils far removed from the antic April of the previous post. Sorrow has no words, only tears, broken hearts, and prayers for the souls of the dead.

Antic April

2007-04-15T20:48:00.000-04:00

kaleidoscopic variegated rapidly changing and whirling patterns, colors, scenes

April begins by making fools of us on its first day and then continues on its kaleidoscopic whirl throughout its allotted thirty days. There is no other month that brings us so many changes. It is a most remarkable month.

Early Spring blossoms may be festooned with snow before being rinsed with April showers; birds, returning on time from the South, may find an inhospitably cold greeting. Humans may complain of blizzards, ice storms, thunderstorms, and worse - and wish each other Merry Christmas with tongues in cheeks. They may say that this April is a strange one. Not true: it's a normal April.

Let's look at this April through a kaleidoscope. There is tax season to be endured, yes, but two of the world's great religions hold celebrations this month about tragic events that ended in everlasting joy for mankind. Worshippers gather in churches and synagogues and feel saved and renewed. There are feasts. There are Easter Bunnies hiding brightly colored eggs to be sought and found; there are Easter baskets full of egg-shaped chocolates and other candies. The religious calendar varies from year to year, but April is the chosen month.

There are still two weeks left in April 2007. Our favorite outdoor sports have begun. Players and spectators rejoice. Some days are mellow and hold out hope for true Spring's beginnings. Just keep your jackets handy!

From a Letter to a Friend

2007-03-25T15:02:00.000-04:00

All of us have empty spaces in our lives having to do with missing certain individuals. Here is a personal poem written for a friend:

The Empty Space

I am listening
to music gloriously
full of color woven through with golden strands.
I would rest my head on your shoulder
if I could.

I am dancing
in solitary choreography.
I would rest a hand on your shoulder
and echo your steps
if I could.

I am seeing
an empty space
where once you were
and I would bring you back
if I could.

Marguerite Louise Monette

February Defeats the Doldrums

2007-02-18T20:28:00.002-05:00

doldrums a state or period of inactivity, stagnation, or slump

After the winter's cheerful holidays comes February with not much to recommend its usual boring status, although there are a few events to which some may pay attention. The Groundhog will or will not see his shadow, thus predicting the onset, sooner or later, of Spring. At mid-month red roses and Valentines make florists, retailers, and recipients happy. George Washington's birthday and Abraham Lincoln's birthday have morphed into one and given rise to Presidents Day, or Presidents' Day or President's Day: there are several opinions about that day caused by the absence or inclusion and position of the apostrophe. Every four years an extra day is added to the month; that 29th day turns romance upside down and gives the year its name: Leap Year.

February 2007 may become known for its unique combination of weather-related problems, and even disasters, inconveniencing millions here in the USA and breaking records from coast to coast, north to south. As if that weren't enough to wake us from the doldrums, the political season is upon us full blast and there is no escaping it. The pundits are baying. And so are some of the newscasters who bring us daily reports of the latest scandalous tragedies.

Oh, to have back the February of the first paragraph!

Three Kings and Congress

2007-01-06T22:25:00.000-05:00

To some, January 6 means the Christmas decorations can be put away. Retailers have traded carols and Frosty & Co. for love songs and romantic tunes as reminders that St. Valentine's Day greeting cards and heart-shaped candy boxes are available.

The 110th Congress has been sworn in. The reading matter on the bedside table was a Christmas present : Niccolo Machiavelli's little book, The Prince. It has been years since this writer attended Political Science 101 and a refresher course is in order. The book is translated from the vernacular Italian by Daniel Donno. It is a Bantam Classic reissue, January 2003.
Readers are warned in no uncertain terms not to copy or transmit in any way the content of any part of the book. Since the admonition is a part of the book, this writer may be in jeopardy! However, Machiavelli's ideas about how to gain political power are as relevant, or more so today, since there have been five hundred years in which to assimilate and to put into practice what Machiavelli makes clear.

Why should you read a book that was written centuries ago? So that you can recognize and reject those who have used Machiavellian tactics to gain or to attain political power.

Janus 2007

2007-01-01T12:55:00.000-05:00

Janus an ancient Roman god, identified with doors, gates, and all beginnings, represented artistically with two opposite faces

There is more to be known about Janus than is found in the above definition. His face, looking backward (2006), is old and wrinkled with wisdom and what has been. His face, looking forward (2007), is youthful, handsome in its hope for good beginnings and happy outcomes. It is fitting that our month of January takes its name from him.

As we begin the New Year, let us remember the promise of Janus and his bright optimism. Even though he only exists in Roman mythology, it is pleasant to know his face shines into the future.

Happy New Year!

Plato Has Designs On You

2006-12-26T15:04:00.000-05:00

Overheard at Macy's: "I can't afford designer clothes." Oh, really? Of course you can and it all began about 2500 years ago in the Greek philosopher Plato's mind.

He thought that somewhere, out there in the inexplicable ether there were basic patterns for all of our material items. A well-remembered example from Philosophy 101 was that of a table. There exists the ideal pattern of a table from which all existent tables derive their basic shapes. We can extrapolate from that idea and apply the concept to wearing apparel - trousers, for instance.

Ethereal trousers are one piece at the waistline but are divided at the crotch into a long legged cover for each leg. Start with that Platonic perfect pair and add fabric. Bolts of cloth do not of themselves turn into trousers, dresses, coats, and so on. There must be a person who thinks how to do that and then sees to it that it is done: a designer.

The pants can be made in various sizes and forms by the thousands. Someone must design them no matter how much or how little they cost. Even if you buy them at a discount store, you are buying an item designed by someone. Whether you pay less than twenty dollars or as much or more than a thousand dollars, you will be wearing "designer clothes".

A Christmas Soliloquy

2006-12-25T17:11:00.001-05:00

soliloquy the act of speaking aloud to oneself

It is blessedly quiet and peaceful in my home today. It celebrates the day an eagerly anticipated child was born under unusual circumstances. I am alone with my thoughts, but not lonesome.

I have spent Christmas Day alone for a number of years. Our family gathering and gift exchange takes place on Christmas Eve. It is a joyous occasion, as it should be. The family personnel changes from time to time through misfortunes, but most of the time there are happy events such as marriages, commitments, and births. Christmas Eve is my special time with as many of my loved ones who can be with me then.

During the hectic planning and arranging - not to mention the stress! - leading up seemingly endlessly to Christmas itself, there is little time or inclination to consider the reason for the coming holiday. On the surface it appears to be for businesses of all sorts to make more money than was made the year before. Or so it seems.

And so I love my Christmas Day for its calm time of joys remembered from times past and time present. A child is born! How lovely a gift!

Christmases Three

2006-12-18T09:29:00.000-05:00

Christmas Eve 1925 - Sidney, New York

A three-year-old is at a window, looking up into the night sky, watching for Santa. Her father suggests that he and she go for a ride in their new Franklin, the better to look for Santa. The child has a secret wish so sincere that she will not share it. She wants a little Victorola all her own and she knows that Santa will grant that wish. Mother will stay home affixing small candles to their Christmas tree. Outdoors, there is no sign of Santa, so he must have come invisibly, certainly. Indoors, the tree is beautiful. Dozens of candles are reflected in multicolored glass baubles. On the sofa there is a Teddy Bear, all brown plush fur, almost as large as the child. His eyes are bright and his arms are extended to her for a hug. No time for a hug. The search is on for the little Victorola she knows must be hidden somewhere. Eventually she realizes there is no Victorola and is greatly disappointed. There is only Teddy.

Christmas Eve 1930 - Chicago, Illinois

The little girl, now eight years old, has had baby dolls given her the last few Christmases. None of the dolls are particularly interesting - the paper dolls she has created are her favorite playthings. She would still like to have her own Victorola, but that wish will soon be forgotten. Teddy Bear still sits, lonely. This Christmas Eve she is given a new doll: Patsy Ann, who is so much like the little girl herself that she feels she has found a friend. There is an old superstition that at midnight on Christmas Eve toys will come alive. Patsy Ann and Teddy Bear are much the same size. The child places them side by side on the sofa and positions them in a certain way so that she can tell on Christmas morning if they have moved. The two toys have found each other and will never again be far apart.

Christmas Eve 2006 - Kalamazoo, Michigan

A few years ago, after the death of her mother, the little girl now grown old, found Patsy Ann in pieces which had been carefully placed by her mother in a shoebox for safe keeping. Patsy Ann needed only a short stay at a Doll Hospital to be put together good as new except for a few worn places on her arms and hands. Teddy Bear had always been nearby and had been repaired with a patch on one arm. His fur is thin in places and he has lost his "voice" but he is still huggable and his eyes still twinkle. Patsy Ann has acquired a new wardrobe, in keeping with the times. Teddy Bear has his own chair. The two are always together - and are beloved.

This is how they look today!

Merry Christmas, and may all of you have precious memories of toys once beloved.

Carson's and The Perfect Bedspread

2006-12-03T19:13:00.000-05:00

Carson, Pirie, Scott and Company Building
One South State Street, Chicago, Illinois
Architect: Louis H. Sullivan (1862 - 1924)

The lower two stories of the building are a visual testimony, wrought in ornamental cast iron, to the architectural genius of Sullivan. Those who shopped in Chicago's Loop in the 30s and 40s remember the building well, in particular the entrance to the store at its northwest corner. "Meet you at Carson's" was a favorite invitation that still lingers in the minds of many. It was a pleasure to wait for a friend while surrounded by intricate ornamentation and informed of the time by a clock incorporated in the design.

The building still stands as a landmark, designated as such in 1970. Lately some upsetting news has come to those who remember and admire the store, and who have traveled often to shop in the Loop even though trendier merchants can be found elsewhere. In 1976, having purchased a new bedroom suite, it was necessary to look for the perfect bedspread. The search began with a train ride to the Loop and Carson's and ended with the purchase of The Perfect Bedspread - and a train ride home.

The building is still standing, studied by students and admirers of Sullivan's architecture. Unfortunately, it has been reported by a lifelong Chicagoan that its cast iron entryway is being supported, in part by two-by-fours - and that the store is dark.
The clock disappeared years ago. It is to be hoped that restoration and preservation of the building will take place soon.

It would be shameful if The Perfect Bedspread, still in almost pristine condition after all these years of daily use, would outlast the cast iron glories of the Carson, Pirie, Scott and Company Building.

Miscellaneous and Machiavelli

2006-11-25T09:33:00.000-05:00

This post should have appeared before November 7, but at that time recovery from hand and wrist injuries did not permit doing so. Thank you for your good wishes, and here is a beginning.

It has been noticed that the pundits mention the word Machiavellian when speaking about some political maneuvers during the recent election. Who is, or was, this Machiavelli?

Niccolo di Bernardo Machiavelli of Florence, Italy b. May 3, 1469, d. June 22,1527
Machiavellism a political principle according to which every act of the state (or statesman) is permissible

Five centuries ago Italy was divided into City States, one of which was Florence, where Machiavelli lived and held forth his villainous schemes for successful political power. Crafty manipulation to further that power may be summed up in one short sentence: Anything goes if it works. Although the citizens of Florence considered themselves to be Christians, they were advised to ignore those teachings if they interfered with gaining power. Eventually Machiavelli was imprisoned, and while in jail he wrote the definitive The Prince which deals with the devious means to becoming a Monarch of a city state. Readers familiar with Machiavelli's works recognize those principles applied to some current campaigns and governance.

Will you go online to learn more about Machiavelli's schemes and scams? Do you think that a successful run for office justifies whatever needs to be done to achieve it?

Machiavelli wrote

A Prince should therefore have no other aim or thought, nor take up any other thing for his study but war and its organization and discipline, for that is the only art that is necessary to one who commands.

One Word Meme

2006-11-24T19:00:00.000-05:00

One
Word
Meme
No
Exceptions
and
No
Cheating

Stolen from Marguerite at Stitches of Violet.

1. Yourself:versatile
2. Your boyfriend/girlfriend (spouse):none
3. Your hair:white
4. Your mother:Alwina
5. Your Father:Jean
6. Your Favorite Item:computer
7. Your dream last night:satisfying
8. Your Favorite drink:Evian
9. Your Dream Car:Camaro
10. The room you are in:studio
11. Your Ex:none
12. Your fear:drowning
13. What you want to be in 10 years?alive
14. Who you hung out with last night?myself
15. What You're Not:lonesome
16. Muffins:blueberry
17. One of Your Wish List Items:book
18. Time:morning
19. The Last Thing You Did:shower
20. What You Are Wearing:jeans
21. Your Favorite Weather: autumn
22. Your Favorite Book:Bartlett's
23. The Last Thing You Ate:oatmeal
24. Your Life:good
25. Your Mood:upbeat
26. Your best friend:Claudia
27. What are you thinking about right now?future
28. Your car:Tercel
29. What are you doing at the moment?typing
30. Your summer:bummer
31. Your relationship status:single
32. What is on your TV? MSNBC
33. What is the weather like?sunny
34. When is the last time you laughed? today
35. Who do you tag?noone

From Cast to Splint

2006-09-08T20:43:00.000-04:00

This post is being written by my daughter. All spelling and grammar mistakes are hers and hers alone.

The cast is off!

Yes, it has been six weeks. Six of the longest weeks of my life.

If I felt better, I would celebrate more.

This morning we arrived at the orthopedic surgeon's office very anxious to get the blue cast removed and move on to the next step in returning to normal.

First the Fiberglas was cut top and bottom with a sound wave saw. Then pried open with a special pliers and gently removed. Once again I could see my arm.

The doctor was happy with the x-rays. The arm is mending and no surgery is required. The break that he suspected might be a problem is looking better than he expected. All good news.

For the next month, I have a removable splint.

Check out the finger swelling. They hurt, but not as much now that the cast is off. I'm hoping the swelling goes down this weekend and the pain decreases enough so I can get a good night's sleep.

Monday is my first appointment at "Hand Therapy". Meanwhile, I'll wiggle what I can wiggle in preparation for what is to come.

Hopefully they'll be gentle. Please don't tell me your therapy horror stories. I don't want to know.

Oops Report - New Blue Cast

2006-08-12T20:37:00.000-04:00

This post is being written by my daughter. All spelling and grammar mistakes are hers and hers alone.

Aren't I looking better? (Better than what? Look here.)

Yesterday I traded in the huge, heavy, plaster, shoulder to knuckle cast for this new, pretty light blue fiberglas model.

The good news, I can bend my elbow now. The bad news, I've lost the use of my thumb.

In four weeks, on September 8, if I'm a good patient and heal well, the cast is scheduled to come off. And who knows, my face might even look normal by then, too.

Oops. Time Out!

2006-08-03T15:08:00.000-04:00

This post is being written by my daughter. All spelling and grammar mistakes are hers and hers alone.

Hi Readers.

I had a bit of an accident on Sunday. My right arm is broken in three places so I won't be updating my blog for a while.

For those who need to know, I tripped and fell onto the pavement outside my apartment. Noone knows how I messed up the left side of my face while breaking my right arm in three places.

Yes, I am right handed. I won't be updating my blog while I have this heavy cast on my arm.

For those of you squinting at my tee shirt trying to read what it says, Maxine is saying:

I couldn't care less. . . But I'm working on it.

The swelling has gone down in my face and I actually look much better than I did a few days ago.

See that dreamy look in my eye? I'm dreaming of a long shower and being able to drive again. It's going to be a while.

Meanwhile, I'd love to hear from you. Please leave a comment.

On Going Back

2006-07-30T10:50:00.000-04:00

Summertime is travel time. For some travelers the destination is a place previously known personally or an area having to do with family history. Sometimes the two coincide.

What if an elusive early childhood memory persists into adulthood and there is no one who can explain it? A small child saw a large interior with tall windows in a certain style. She sat on a long bench and was entertained by a wooden birdcage held by another seated person. Many years later she saw a television program about Ellis island - and there were those familiar windows! She may go back some day to see for herself her father's and mother's and her name on the immigration lists.

The puzzle of the wooden birdcage persists.

Fantasy for the Fourth

2006-07-04T08:21:00.000-04:00

Our Festivals of Light

2006-07-01T17:51:00.000-04:00

The two festivals of light we celebrate are during the season of Christmas and the Fourth of July, the one featuring more or less stationary lights and the other lights and colors bursting high and overlaid with thunderous noise. Our two prominent holidays are accompanied and associated with music - carols and hymns of peaceful celebration for one and the 1812 Overture in sincere patriotic joy for the other. We are a people who come together on these occasions. On these days we are one: Americans brought together by light and sound, reverence and pride.

My Beloved Sidney, New York

2006-06-28T21:52:00.000-04:00

This is a personal note occasioned by seeing an aerial view of the flooding in New York state: Sidney, New York in particular.
Sidney is a lovely small town on the Susquehanna River, in the Catskills. I attended first and second grade there - and memories of those early school days are clear and treasured still, years later. When my parents and I moved to Chicago, I cried for the hills and the town we left behind, and hated the flat land of Illinois until time and new experiences dulled the pain.

June's Other Flower

2006-06-10T16:17:00.000-04:00

marguerite both a flower and a pearl

We think of the rose as the flower of June. Lovely as roses are, there is another flower which belongs to June and which appears in simple and spontaneous sparkling beauty on the fields of Europe. It is the marguerite. It is slightly smaller than the Shasta Daisy, and we know it as a daisy.

The marguerite has a dual nature as befits its appearance in the month of June, which in its first 21 days celebrates Gemini. Its name denotes a pearl as well as a flower. And it plays a role in love affairs by being able to answer the question "Does he love me?" How is it done? By plucking the petals one by one, each petal standing, in turn, for "He loves me" or "He loves me not". The last petal will give the answer. And, by the way, if the answer is not acceptable, try another marguerite and repeat the process until the answer is satisfactory!

In 20th Century Zurich, Switzerland, a daughter was born to parents who discussed what to name the baby. The mother looked out of the window at marguerites glowing on the hospital lawn and named the child "Marguerite".

May, Briefly

2006-05-31T20:04:00.000-04:00

May begins merrily, flaunting doggerel, May Baskets, Maypole Dances, and ends on the somber occasion of Memorial Day. Between those two extremes are flowers and frost, military parades and protest marches, a wedding here and a birthday there, resolves and resignations, Mothers centerstage and politics as backdrop, sunshine and storms. May is a mad mixture of events and emotions; its turbulence diminishes and fades away into June.

To Michael and Trudy

2006-05-31T19:51:00.000-04:00

On May 26 Michael R. Howard and Trudy M. Kueker were married. This is a little poem written by Francis Quarles (1592-1644) which states so beautifully our wishes for them.

Let all thy joys be as the month of May,
And all thy days be as a marriage day:
Let sorrow, sickness, and a troubled mind
Be stranger to thee.

Michael, thank you for bringing your beautiful bride, Trudy, into our family.

Hurrah, Hurrah, the First of May!

2006-05-01T20:02:00.000-04:00

This is my yearly tribute to the month of May.

doggerel loosely styled and irregular in measure, esp. for burlesque or comic effect; also, marked by triviality or inferiority

Where Do They All Come From?

A little green man
in a fluffy yellow hat
underneath the rim
of a toadstool sat.

He twirled his finger
and he twitched his toe,
he looked at his watch
and said, "Time to go!"

He jumped to his saucer
and quickly spun away,
but he left his yellow hat
on the field of May.

Marguerite Louise

If you have ever tended a lawn, you are familiar with him.

There is another little piece of doggerel that is chanted each May 1 in this household:

Hurrah, hurrah, the First of May,
(Something, something) starts today!

Create your own doggerel - substitute your own words for those in the parentheses!

137, Where Are You?

2006-04-12T20:50:00.000-04:00

Source: The God Particle by Leon Lederman with Dick Teresi

In his book, which is subtitled "If the Universe is the answer, what is the question?" Leon Lederman wrote

Physicists have agonized over 137 for the past fifty years. Werner Heisenberg once proclaimed that all the quandries of quantum mechanics would shrivel up when 137 was finally explained. I tell my undergraduate students that if they are ever in trouble in a major city anywhere in the world they should write "137" on a sign and hold it up on a busy street corner. Eventually a physicist will see that they're distressed and come to their assistance. (No one to my knowledge has ever tried this, but it should work.)

I, in the spirit of Odysseuse, decided to accept Dr. Lederman's implied challenge. It was either curiosity or benign mischief that led to the following attempt. This city is not known for its clusters of physicists on street corners, so I decided to begin at our Unitarian Church whose membership includes many professionals, some of whom are scientists.

All of us have permanent nametags mounted on a bulletin board to be worn during the service and replaced afterwards. I took mine home and added a few things: a computer generated red rose, my name in an Old English script, plus a gold Hallmark circle on which I printed in large black letters 137.

I also changed my behavior. Instead of going in and sitting quietly waiting for the service to begin, I made the rounds of all the little groups chatting in the foyer before the service. I volunteered to be an usher, a greeter, handed out hymnbooks, joined the Coffee Hour folks after the service. My name tag and I were the Katie Couric of the Unitarians. But no one came to my rescue or commented on my nametag. This went on for several weeks.

Finally I asked the secretary to give me the name or names of physicists in our congregation. The best she could do was to come up with the name of a Professor of Physics at one of our colleges. I found an excuse to have a talk with him. My nametag fairly screamed at him. He took no notice.

What next? I wrote a letter to Leon Lederman in care of his publisher, relating the circumstances and outcome of my experiment just as I have written them to you. I never heard from him.

The book is touted as the funniest book about physics ever written, and I will attest to that. It's written in plain English, no complicated formulae. It is a comprehensive history of physics from Democritus through Einstein and beyond. Nothing in it is obsolete even though the publishing date is 1994. The God Particle of the title is the Higgs boson, which is known to exist but has not yet been discovered. The top quark had not yet been found in 1994 but was discovered shortly afterward.
Read it, enjoy it, and you will be able to say, "Oh yes, I know all about 137 - that it's really 1/137!"

Fungible Pundits

2006-04-11T11:15:00.000-04:00

fungible being of such a nature that one part or quantity may be replaced by another equal part or quantity in the satisfaction of an obligation [INTERCHANGEABLE]

pundit one who gives opinions in an authoritative manner[POLITICAL]

A new word, fungible, seems to have entered the vocabulary of the pundits. Recently, two pundits were heard to say the word. The listener, having no idea what was meant, consulted a dictionary. The above definition was the result. One of the examples given was oil, wheat, and lumber are fungible commodities.

So, is the general public to believe that Republicans, Democrats, and other species of politicos are equal and interchangeable? Ha! The lesson in all this is for the pundits to learn that plucking an esoteric term from a thesaurus or other source is not a good talking point. Not everyone will rush to a dictionary for its meaning, but having done so may be puzzled by its use for political punditry.

April Fools Us

2006-04-01T08:21:00.000-05:00

April prepares her green traffic light and the world thinks Go.

Christopher Morley (1890-1957)

The sun was warm but the wind was chill.
You know how it is with an April day
When the sun is out and the wind is still,
You're one month on in the middle of May.
But if you so much as dare to speak,
A cloud comes over the sunlit arch,
A wind comes off a frozen peak,
And you're two months back in the middle of March.

Robert Frost (1874-1963)

May never was the month of love,
For May is full of flowers;
But rather April, wet by kind,
For love is full of showers.

Robert Southwell (1561-1595)

April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.

Thomas Stearns Eliot (1890-1957)

Is there another month that elicits such diverse opinions as does April?

The Ubiquitous Pratfall

2006-03-12T18:24:00.000-05:00

pratfall a humiliating mishap or blunder or a fall on the buttocks
ubiquitous existing or being everywhere at the same time; widespread

Charles Schulz, in his comic strip Peanuts, made good use of the pratfall. The most well known involves Lucy, a football, and Charley Brown, in which Lucy promises to hold the football so that Charley can kick it. At the last second, she jerks it away, Charley kicks thin air and suffers a pratfall. It became a recurrent theme.

In one episode of the animated feature Arthur, a children's program on PBS, Arthur makes an error in judgement and is shown with an egg splattered on his face - another type of pratfall.

All of us have blundered in one way or another, been embarrassed, got the wrong idea, had humiliating experiences, and, mostly, we prefer not to discuss them! Or even to own up to them. In families and among friends these sometimes become anecdotes repeated as comic events. I leave it to the reader to recall them.

The pratfall has been around for at least 17,000 years. Prehistoric cave paintings discovered in Lascaux, France, may give us an example. The paintings done by cavemen artists depict animals existing and hunted at the time. The hunters are merely primitive stick figures, but there is one realistic adult handprint. Did the artist, hands covered with paint and working bent over, straighten up and to brace himself, leave his handprint on the wall with no way to erase it? Art historians have various views, but some art students feel it was an early pratfall.

Explaining the Inexplicable

2006-03-04T22:19:00.000-05:00

inexplicable incapable of being explained, interpreted, or accounted for

Physicists have been seeking a Theory of Everything (TOE). Their searches have gone far beyond anything Einstein contemplated about the forces in our universe, or that he was willing to accept. One of the latest candidates for TOE is string theory, which deals wth the invisible and intricate - and no matter how many times it is studied, it leaves this layman befuddled. One is supposed to accept that there are many more dimensions in space than the three - height, breadth, depth - which are familiar concepts. It is said there are nine dimensions and one of time. The strings are coiled and vibrating within, or are, subatomic particles.

An unlikely source of wisdom put it thus: imagine a table upon which there is a magazine that explains everything known about our universe. An ant is crawling along the floor beneath that table. Consider what the ant knows of the content of the magazine. We are like that ant.

March 1: The Second Verse

2006-03-01T21:20:00.000-05:00

Now that the month of love, February, is past, it is time for the second verse of the lovely poem Fate by Susan Marr Spalding, to appear. The first verse can be read in the February 6, 2006 post titled Found: A Love Song for February.

And two shall walk some narrow way of life
So nearly side by side, that should one turn
Ever so little space to left or right
They needs must stand acknowledged face to face.
And yet with wistful eyes that never meet,
With groping hands that never clasp, and lips
Calling in vain to ears that never hear,
They seek each other all their weary days
And die unsatisfied--and this is Fate.

The Supreme Bolero: Goodbye, Michelle

2006-02-12T12:45:00.000-05:00

There are those of us who believe figure skating is a perfect form of dance, and that Michelle Kwan represents the art at its peak of glory. We have watched her from her entry into the sport at twelve years old and have hoped to see her win the Gold at the 2006 Olympics in Torino, Italy, at age twenty-five. We grieve at her withdrawal from competition because of injury.

We have enjoyed thirteen years of her performances, and it is supposed each of us has a favorite. Which one is yours? Difficult to choose just one, and, having chosen one, have second thoughts and third thoughts - there are so many wonderful moments.

Mine is one appropriate to Valentine's Day - the long program danced to Ravel's Bolero. Her performance expressed the passion that accompanies love, an almost unbearable joy and radiance.

Thank you, Michelle. Your art lives forever in memory.

Found: A Love Song For February

2006-02-06T23:17:00.000-05:00

Two lovers had diverse backgrounds. The man was born in Chatfield, Minnesota, the woman in Zurich, Switzerland. They met and married in Chicago, Illinois. That is all the background you will need in order to understand the following jewel of a poem written by Susan Marr Spalding. It is the first verse of two and speaks of love and fate.

Fate

Two shall be born the whole wide world apart;
And speak in different tongues, and have no thought
Each of the other's being, and no heed;
And these o'er unknown seas to unknown lands
Shall cross, escaping wreck, defying death,
And all unconsciously shape every act
And bend each wandering step to this one end,--
That, one day, out of darkness, they shall meet
And read life's meaning in each other's eyes.

February 1: No Valentine?

2006-02-01T12:17:00.000-05:00

It was supposed to be easy to find a few poems, written and filed though the years, celebrating love. Most writers have bulging files of material stored away. A time-consuming rereading and search proved the first line of one attempt to be true: "Great quantities of trivia are written..." Bring on the shredder! Let the greeting card companies say it best.

Of many failed poems in the folders, one small poem written after an exhilarating experience still speaks of what it is like to fall in love.

Marguerite Louise wrote

When we walk we float
over curbs, skirt open manholes,
teeter on brinks, oblivious:
nothing exists but us.

Through some phenomenon of mind
other people fade, become transparent,
disappear.

And yet I see you clearly
and I know that you see me.

Star Stuff

2006-01-29T15:12:00.000-05:00

astronomy the study of objects and matter outside the earth's atmosphere and of their physical and chemical properties
cosmos an orderly harmonious systematic universe

Throughout the centuries man has gazed at the stars in wonder. The more we discover about them, the more there is to know. Where did the search begin, and how far has it gone? And what does it mean for us?

Galileo Galilei (1564-1642) built the first telescopes that brought our solar system planets into view as more than pinpoints of light in the night sky but as solid orbs lit by the sun. As telescopes improved, complicated questions arose about light. Galileo thought light was composed of corpuscles. Today we know his "corpuscles" are photons. Galileo demonstrated that light would move, which begged the question: how fast?

In 1849 Armand-Hippolyte-Louis Fitzeau first measured the speed of light as 186,000 miles per second. That means that when we see photographs of the universe taken by the Hubble telescope and others even more powerful, we are looking back in time - at events and objects some of which existed billions of years ago, almost back to the beginning of our universe. As we look at those photographs and images coming to us now, we are seeing ourselves at a time when we were subatomic chemical elements.

In the December 2005 issue of Scientific American, in the article titled Skeptic, Michael Shermer writes "There are many ways to be spiritual and science is one with its awe-inspiring account of who we are and where we came from." Mr Shermer goes on to quote the late Carl Sagan as follows: "We are made of star stuff. We are a way for the cosmos to know itself....We've begun at last to wonder about our origins, star stuff contemplating the stars, organized collections of ten billion billion billion atoms contemplating the evolution of matter, tracing that long path by which it arrived at consciousness..."

The questions posed in the first paragraph of this post are answered here only in part. Other answers are yours to give.

Miracle and Mystery

2006-01-22T14:11:00.000-05:00

miracle an extremely outstanding or unusual event, thing, or accomplishment
mystery something not understood or beyond understanding

These are brief definitions of matters that most have experienced or at least acknowledged. The mythical Roman god, Janus, (for whom January is named), looking back in time, may have recognized as miracles events that once were mysteries; but in facing the future could see only mystery.

It is appropriate that Janus is portrayed as having one head bearing opposite faces, for miracles and mysteries are often entwined, encircling each other as enigmas and thus eliciting conjecture from great minds throughout the centuries of human existence. It is a fascinating subject that also is relevant to 2006 C E and beyond.

I pose the following questions for your consideration and not necessarily for commentary, although your viewpoints are always welcome here.

Have you ever said only a miracle could prevent this or allow that to happen? Did that miracle come to pass? If so, do you still refer to it as "miracle" even though common events brought it about?
Have you faced a mystery and solved it? If so, was it solved because time revealed an answer? Or was it solved because someone knew and let you know?
Do you think that mystery and miracle co-exist, or are they separate? Does one of them follow the other?

Sir Thomas Browne 1605-1682 wrote

I love to lose myself in a mystery, to pursue my Reason...

Walt Whitman 1819-1892 wrote

To me every hour of the light and dark is a miracle,
Every cubic inch of space is a miracle...

January 1, 2006

2006-01-01T09:31:00.000-05:00

Janus a Roman god that is identified with doors, gates, and all beginnings, and that is represented artistically with two opposite faces

Well, Janus, what say you?

I see that what is past has been revealed,
And looking forward I see a mystery.

Christmases Three

2005-12-22T21:00:00.000-05:00

The Straight Line!

2005-12-15T15:55:00.000-05:00

"I can't draw a straight line!" This plaint is often heard when excuses are being made for not attempting to draw or to paint. Actually, it is not necessary to be able to draw a straight line, freehand - it is permissible to use a ruler. There are other matters to consider.

From a piece written after pondering what it takes to be a creative artist, here are some thoughts. In order to be a successful artist, one must resist outside influences and trends, past and current. Be stubborn, repeating to oneself, "This is the way I see it, the way I imagine it, the way I will do it." This is not to say one can, or should, reject technique. Technique is essential - proven technique, that is, or technique which has been proven effective by experiment and usage. What is technique? It is the tool which permits the artist to express originality successfully.

One thinks of Da Vinci's failed experiments in painting media - what masterworks were lost or flawed because of incorrect guessing about what works with pigments: chemical changes that were ruinous. Experimentation is good, confined to the equivalent of sketching; only after the experiment is proven to be successful and enduring should it be applied in one's major works.

Appreciate, but do not copy, what is seen of another's oeuvre. Say "I see how that works" and then store that knowledge, bringing it out and using it when it is relevant to an original work or design.

You can draw a straight line: Go for it!

The Reverberant Chalk

2005-12-01T16:56:00.000-05:00

Reverberation an effect or impact that resembles an echo

There are certain matters that remain subjects for conjecture, and which may be discussed in a Philosophy classroom or in a Physics lab. In either discipline there are no firm answers, but the questions remain forever. One example is that of the tree falling in a forest far from habitation; the unanswered question is whether or not it makes a noise on impact. The answers are many and varied and are staunchly defended, pro or con.

In a certain classroom, the Professor held up his piece of chalk and shook it. He maintained that when he did so, the entire universe reacted to that movement. What about the billions and billions of different actions: do all of them cause reactions in the universe? On a subatomic level? Photons? String theory? What do you think?

An anonymous poet voiced his or her opinion thus:

All things both near and far by almighty power
Hiddenly to each other connected are;
Thou canst not disturb a flower
Without the troubling of a star.

More from the Archives

2005-11-16T17:13:00.000-05:00

The previous post was the first of a series of poems titled The Three Best Days. The following is the second of the best days.

I want to live in a land
Where it's often the first day
of a three-day snowstorm.

The weather report warns:
a raging blizzard in the prairies
west of here.
Trucks are overturned, cars are buried
under snowdrifts six feet high.
Emergency vehicles only.
Women in labor are whisked to hospitals
by snowmobiles, just in time.
The storm is headed our way.
We flock to the stores:
bottled water, candles,
kerosene for oil lamps,
batteries for flashlights,
milk, bread, and meat,
soup in cans,
apples and candy,
pet food and litter.
Is there anything at home to read?
To the library, to the bookstore.
Pull into the garage
as the first flakes fall.

The strange and lovely silence begins.
Clouds of snow blow past my windows.
Safe from all distractions
I lose myself in elusive ecstasy:
solitude that seldom comes.
I read and dream and sip my tea,
rejoice in the cold and pristine white,
held close in the warmth of my home.

Written years ago by Marguerite Louise

From the Archives

2005-11-03T09:06:00.000-05:00

An excerpt from a longer piece:

I want to live in a land
where it's often the day
after Christmas.

Hallowe'en pumpkins cluster
under Christmas trees;
songs of harvest
are overcome by Jingle Bells.
To insure delivery by Christmas,
mail now to Europe.
Look for clever things to send,
choose the gifts for one and all,
making sure costs are even,
and wrap them tastefully and well.
Thanksgiving dinner looms.
Dodge the children seeing Santa,
drop large coins into big red kettles.
Christmas cards to be mailed,
include a note in every one;
arriving ones must be acknowledged.
Wrap the gifts, tie the ribbons,
decorate the house and tree.
I tire of Christmas before it's here.
The Eve: what isn't done never will be.
My guests please me, and yet
I love best the day after Christmas,
released from labored anxiety
of days and months in preparation,
to celebrate in solitary joy
the miracle of my own children.

Written years ago by Marguerite Louise

The Inquiring Mind and Spinoza

2005-10-25T10:11:00.000-04:00

A mention of Spinoza in an often reread book led to the question: why Spinoza? Why not Socrates, Plato, or Aristotle? Naming any or all of the latter philosophers would have resulted in the novel's complicated plot. Reference books shed no light on the matter. How often does a casual mention of a name dropped into a larger work elicit enough curiosity to inspire a detour into research? It seems that in life there are many more questions than there are answers.

Answers themselves are complicated. Some are facts, known to be truth at the time they are stated. Many are opinions and are as varied as there are humans. The word "opine" has recently come into the vocabulary heard and read in the media, and has been repeated often enough to give rise to the suspicion that some effort is being made to impress listeners and readers. "I think; you opine" Take your pick!

Here are some questions to be considered, perhaps answered, perhaps "opined". Have you ever come to a stop in your listening or reading and gone to a source in order to find out more about the subject? If so, do you have reference materials in your home or office which can provide answers? Would you go to a library for more information? or Google? or somewhere else? Do you have friends and acquaintances who can provide information? Do you know why the word "enhance" is often used incorrectly instead of "increase" or "improve"?

Spinoza's opinion (he opined!) that "Nature abhors a vacuum." has been taken seriously and will lead to more frequent essays on this blog.

Spinoza also said

MAN IS A SOCIAL ANIMAL.

What do you think? Opine?

SPINNING WITH SPINOZA

2005-10-24T17:08:00.000-04:00

Benedict [Baruch] Spinoza Philosopher, 1632-1677
P.G. (Pelham Grenville) Wodehouse Writer, 1881-1975

Why have these two men from different vocations and centuries come together in an essay? P. G. Wodehouse wrote humorous novels, most of which poked fun at 20th century British aristocracy; Spinoza gave voice to his philosophical pronouncements from his home in Holland.

Early in P. G. Wodehouse's 1946 novel "Jeeves in the Morning", Bertie Wooster seeks to placate his man-servant mentor, Jeeves, by offering to buy him a book. Jeeves requests a new and recently annotated edtion of the works of Spinoza. Bertie consents and assumes that Spinoza is the latest mystery thriller, and wants to know if the book is Book Society's Choice of the Month. Jeeves reply is, "I believe not, sir."

At the bookstore it becomes known that the clueless Bertie has ordered a book by Spinoza, at which point the novel spins off into a convolution of comedic events propelled by someone being misled into thinking that Bertie must have reformed and become a serious thinker.

Some readers might have wondered what there was about Spinoza that made Jeeves choose that subject. A little research would reveal that the philosopher included science, mathematics, and much more, in his thinking, and that much of his work was incomprehensible to the layman, especially to the reader who would be perusing P. G. Wodehouse in the first place. However, one statement by Spinoza has become known to everyone and is often quoted without attribution.

Spinoza wrote

NATURE ABHORS A VACUUM

IMPRESSIONS OF AN EXPRESSIONIST

2005-10-08T12:39:00.000-04:00

1930 A little girl is sitting in her small wicker rocking chair. She has been given a new tablet of white paper, and her father has sharpened her pencil with his penknife. As usual, she is drawing the most beautiful ladies of which she is capable. She also draws gowns for them. Sometimes she draws paper dolls, about four inches tall, designs entire wardrobes for them, cuts them out and places them in her father's empty flat green metal Lucky Strike cigarette box - the 50 cigarette size.

1938 When she is sixteen she is accepted as an art student at The School of the Art Institute of Chicago. The students have the run of the museum before and after visiting hours. The world of the arts opens. She is still living at home and commuting by streetcar. It is not a dangerous city and there is transportation at all hours.

The beautiful ladies are forgotten; reality sets in. Outside the door of the Life Drawing classroom a group of new students have no idea what to expect. They murmur among themselves, saying that surely the models will be wearing clothes - won't they? Inside, they see the model. She is wearing a robe. She removes the robe and the Professor situates her on a raised platform. The students do not look at one another, they just begin to draw. The Professor walks from one student to another, advising and correcting. It suddenly becomes obvious to all that drawing and painting the human body is most difficult. The nudity is forgotten in the necessity of depicting the body in charcoal and various media. Life Class is hard work.

The girl notices that some of the advanced painters and sculptors who will have careers in the art world are not producing realistic art. A new idea has taken hold. It does not yet have a name, but it is arising in Chicago and in New York City: art does not have to be about something real, it must be an expression of one's emotions and reactions to the world around us. Make an abstraction of reality!

She shares her experiences with her parents. The nude models are taken for granted as part of an artist's education as well as all of the representational forms of art. But when she says, "I've learned that art doesn't have to be about anything, and I really like that idea." her father looks skeptical and a little disapproving.

2005 By the mid-twentieth century the new artform had a name: abstract expressionism. Its definition, as given in the previous post, describes the movement that troubled the father but entranced his daughter.

If you had a choice of an artwork - a painting, sculpture, drawing, photograph, lithograph - what would it be?

Alfred North Whitehead said

Art is the imposing of a pattern on experience, and our aesthetic enjoyment in recognition of the pattern.

Trumpets and Paintbrushes

2005-09-24T23:24:00.000-04:00

jazz American music developed from ragtime and blues, characterized by varying degrees of improvisation
abstract expressionism an artistic movement of the mid-20th Century comprising diverse styles and techniques and emphasizing esp. an artist's liberty to convey attitudes and emotions through non-traditional and usu. non-representational means

Trumpets are conduits for music; paintbrushes, in the hands of artists, bring visual art to us. How we hear jazz and how we see abstract art are more complicated than just listening in a desultory manner, or glancing at a painting and moving to the next one.

In jazz we hear a main theme which quickly becomes entwined among various instruments, is submerged, disappears, and surfaces as another variation: improvisation, ever changing and charged with energy. Recorded jazz is almost as good as a live session, but not quite. The way to hear true jazz is to experience in concert its dynamic qualities which cannot be captured by electronic means.

Abstract art does not have to be "about something". Its colors, shapes, forms and designs, reflect what the artist wishes to bring to our attention. At times the purpose is obvious, other times, not. In either case it can usually be revealed by taking time to consider the work. Photographs of paintings, however good the quality of print, lack the impact made by a visit to an exhibition in a museum or an art gallery.

Jazz and abstract expressionism have much in common. Once heard and viewed in person, recordings and photographs can be reminders of performances and exhibits that brought great rewards.

Have you heard jazz performed by a local group? Have you visited an art exhibit featuring local artists? Would you be willing to attend a jazz concert? Would you travel to an art museum to see an exhibition by contemporary painters?

Carl Sandburg wrote

Drum on your drums, batter on your
banjos, sob on the long cool
saxophones.
Go to it, O jazzmen

Wassily Kandinsky said

The content of painting is painting. Nothing has to be deciphered. The content, filled with happiness, speaks to that person to whom each form is alive, i.e., has content.

Two Last Words

2005-09-15T17:09:00.000-04:00

On reading Hunter S. Thompson's suicide note:

It is disturbing to note that two great writers, Ernest Hemingway (1899-1961) and Hunter S. Thompson (ca.1938-2005) committed suicide in their sixties. There were great differences in their subject matters and styles, and yet both wrote powerfully and with a great impact on the literature and thought of their times. Both, apparently, experienced a despairing impotence having to do with "old age".

What might they have brought to the world had they been able to overcome that darkness of spirit and decide to make do with whatever years were left to them before death came unsought. There are many who have gained fame and prestige in the arts and sciences who have lived on into old age, adjusted to it, and given the world the benefit of their words and deeds through the years. What might Hemingway and Thompson have given us from the perspective of another twenty years, or more, of their lives. Life is not easy. One must persevere through adversities, enjoy what pleasures there are, be as creative and productive as possible, and remember that death comes to all, eventually - no need to rush it.

Shakespeare wrote

What's done is done, and cannot be undone.

A Nod To The Bishop

2005-09-09T20:28:00.000-04:00

Berkeleianism the idealistic system of philosophy of Bishop George Berkeley (1685-1753),
idealism a theory that the essential nature of reality lies in consciousness or reason

A familiar question that can give rise to endless speculation is this: if a tree falls crashing to the ground in a forest, and there is no one present to witness it, no ear to hear the crash, does the event make noise? If the answer is yes, how can it be proven? If the answer is no, how can it be proven? The impact of the crash will cause ripples in the air (potential sound waves), but lacking a listener, those waves will diminish and fade silently. Or will there be sound regardless of the presence or absence of an observer?

Bishop George Berkeley might have had an answer. He maintained that things (matter) cannot exist unless perceived by some mind. One of his peers attempted to prove to him that matter exists by kicking a large boulder until he rebounded from it, in order to prove reality. The Bishop retorted that matter is a notion added to what the senses actually report. And so far there has been no rebuttal to Bishop Berkeley's argument.

What is your reaction to the problem of the tree that crashed in the forest? If you have an opinion, you are indulging in one of philosophy's great occupations - that of speculation. Will you read more about Bishop Berkeley's theories? Do you know of other unanswerable situations that invite argument?

Thomas Stearns Eliot wrote

Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow

Two Tragedies Too Many

2005-09-01T12:02:00.000-04:00

The early twenty-first century has brought America two disasters. The first is known by its date: 9/11. It came unannounced and was a result of human evil. The second is known by its name: Katrina. It came announced well in advance as a hurricane and was accompanied by dire and urgent warnings. Its cause: nature, which is neither good nor evil, but is mightier than anything mankind can create or imagine.

America will never be as it was before Katrina. Need and grief co-exist. We the people will do what we can in the present, and will look towards the future equipped with the knowledge of what to do when nature strikes again.

The Red Cross and The Salvation Army, and many more charitable institutions need our donations. America will respond.

From Rapunzel To Betty Boop

2005-08-22T21:54:00.000-04:00

style a distinctive quality, form, or type of something
antithesis the direct opposite

The story of Rapunzel in Grimm's Fairy Tales is complicated; however, when her name is mentioned one characteristic comes to mind: her long hair. A handsome prince is involved. Rapunzel, imprisoned in a tall tower, would lower her beautiful long, blond braids to enable her lover to climb up to her lofty cell. It is not known when Rapunzel might have sported her long tresses since fairy tales are timeless and universal. What is known is that for centuries women have had long hair. In the early twentieth century the era of long hair for women was suddenly cut short, in more ways than one.

The antithesis to Rapunzel was a cute little flapperish cartoon character of the Twenties, named Betty Boop - she of Boop-Boop-a-Doop fame in cinema, along with News of the Day and the feature film. Her short black hair was (and probably still is, since cartoons have long, long, lives) arranged in

spit curls spiral curls that are plastered on the forehead, temples and cheeks

And what has this to do with the Arts? Hairstyles are designs and Design itself is Art.

What is your favorite hairstyle? Do you consult a style magazine or a cosmetologist before deciding how to wear your hair? Is there a particular hairstyle you dislike? If you had a choice between long hair and short hair, which would you choose?

Anonymous said

That is the long and the short of it.

Fun With Philosophers

2005-08-13T14:56:00.000-04:00

philosophy is both the seeking of wisdom and the wisdom sought
conjecture a conclusion deduced by surmise or guesswork

Odysseuse brings you this with tongue in cheek.

There is no such event as a quiet gathering of philosophers. They are a noisy bunch because they have unlimited subjects and viewpoints to discuss. Since they have such an enormous range of interests, our generic philosophers will be divided here into two groups, but with one subject: the meaning of life.

Group A believes it knows the meaning of life and Group B is still searching for it. Their meeting takes place in a large room divided by a folding screen. Group A are on one side of the divider and Group B on the other. This separation of groups is necessary because neither group respects or accepts the other's views. Group B feels the members of Group A are arrogant know-it-alls, and Group A looks down on the know-nothing Group Bs. It doesn't stop there.

Within Group A there are as many disparate answers to the riddle of life - each loudly proclaimed - as there are philosophers attending. Inside Group B the same problems prevail, except that their arguments are about the search for life's meaning and how best to conduct it.

Both groups have great differences of opinions and beliefs as there are in all branches of philosophy. Near the conclusion of the meeting, the divider will open and all parties will exchange words and views, and leave with satisfaction at having fulfilled the philosophers' aim of having their voices heard, their viewpoints aired, and feel better for having had the joy of conjecture.

At some other time the generic philosophers will be replaced here by the name brand philosophers, and some of the amusing, astounding, and even enlightening words and ideas that have arisen from this serious discipline, philosophy, will be forthcoming.

Do you find philosophy difficult to understand? Have you found anything of value for yourself in it? Do you like a good argument?

Aristotle said

The actuality of thought is life.

Hot Weather Friends

2005-08-04T19:29:00.000-04:00

Summer 2005 is bringing us some of the hottest temperatures ever endured for such an extended time. When the airconditioners and fans are whirring 24/7, and it's too much trouble to think of going to the library or to the bookstore, a visit with old friends on the bookshelf is in order. There are some books worth rereading or with whom it would be good to get acquainted. These are some of the books and friends pulled off the shelf and brought to your attention.

Caledonia Wingate and Angela Benbow, both in their eighties, together with their friend, Detective Lieutenant Martinez, solve a series of crimes associated with their retirement home near San Diego. Author Corinne Holt Sawyer includes humorous episodes and a bit of romance as well as mystery.

Lord Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane represent some of the best in English murder mysteries, plus an unusual romantic attachment. Dorothy L. Sayers brings to life English aristocracy coping with murders in the English countryside as well as in academia.

John Dortmunder, our devious American hero, keeps us laughing: a comical crook solving the unsolvable believably. Any Dortmunder novel by Donald E. Westlake will make you laugh loud enough to drown out the airconditioners.

The English writer, Joyce Porter, has Scotland Yard saddled with the most obnoxious detective found in fiction: Detective Chief Inspector Dover. His Sergeant MacGregor is Dover's long-suffering assistant. How anything gets solved by the dandruff-ridden, obese Dover is a mystery in itself and is due only to the clever imagination of the author.

P. G. Wodehouse, an Englishman living and writing in America about English aristocrats, provides us with Bertie Wooster, his valet Jeeves, and the Blandings Castle novels featuring Lord Emsworth and his prize-winning sow Empress of Blandings. It is Americanized English humor at its most entertaining.

Back to New York City and the novels by Rex Stout, featuring the obese Nero Wolfe who supplies the brainpower to solve the mysteries while his assistant, Archie Goodwin, does the legwork. Orchids and gourmet meals are thrown into the mix.

Peter Shandy is a professor at Balaclava Agricultural College who indadvertently finds himself solving mysteries and meeting the love of his life as a consequence of a murder on campus. Charlotte Maccleod takes us into the academic setting with humor. If ever there was a Utopian college, Balaclava is it.

For peaceful reading, no serious crimes committed, visit Jan Karon's books about the town of Mitford. She gives us many endearing characters, both human and animal. Perfection perfectly plotted.

Three young friends who grow older by one year in each novel are appealing because they interact exactly as we know youngsters do in real life. J. K. Rowling has given us Harry Potter, Ron Weasely, and Hermione Granger and has written them into a magical setting of suspense, adventure, and reward.

These are just a few of the many characters and books some of whom may become your friends. In any case, all of them are well-plotted and provide a cool escape.

Can you add to these examples? Do you reread the funny parts even if you don't reread the whole book? Will you reread a book even if you know how it turns out? Why?

The Rarest Gift

2005-08-01T15:34:00.000-04:00

rare marked by unusual quality, merit, or appeal
kaleidoscope a variegated changing pattern or scene

There are many occasions on which gifts are exchanged, expected, or simply given: birthdays, weddings, certain holidays, and other life events. The memories of these form a kaleidoscope of colored paper and ribbons, sparkles and glitter, bright floral tributes, and cheerful balloons.

The rarest gift comes quietly and often does not immediately identify itself. It is not until later that its value is recognized: that old vase thrown out by Aunt M. and rescued from the trash turns out to be an antique.

Another would be a recording of musical selections taped from 78s, LPs, and other miscellaneous sources - a rare and meaningful compilation given by a person well aware of its historical value.

And then there are the offhand presents freely given as a result of moving to smaller quarters or a change in lifestyle, finding no room for them and passing them on to others.

These kinds of rarities are never wrapped as gifts nor are they designated as such. Strangely enough, these ad hoc gifts are often remembered longest.

Is there such an item in your house? Have you ever received something from a person unaware of having given it? Is there something in your house that reminds you of a person or friend, long gone but the gift remains?

Robert Louis Stevenson wrote

I am in the habit of looking not so much to the nature of the gift as to the spirit in which it is offered.

Two for Chocolate

2005-07-22T16:06:00.000-04:00

chocolate a food prepared from ground roasted cacao beans

A box of chocolate is a welcome gift, even more so if it has two layers. Some chocolate lovers have been known to eat the entire lower level at one sitting, leaving the top layer intact (temporarily) for appearance's sake. The reaction to this from others who finish the top layer and look forward to more treats below, only to find empty wrappers, is predictable. The perpetrator of this gluttonous outrage will never hear the end of it - but will have no regret.

What has chocolate to do with the Arts? It has to do with both cinema and literature. A few years ago moviegoers were treated to a romantic film, Chocolat, which explained as a plot device the origin of chocolate as a confection and as an antidepressant - as well as delivering a charming love story or two. It began as a modest little movie and soon disappeared from theatres. But something unique happened: chocolate lovers told others, and word-of-mouth brought back the film for a long run in multiplexes everywhere. In some theatres, going along with the theme, ushers handed departing patrons foil-wrapped chocolate kisses.

Roald Dahl's Charlie and the Chocolate Factory has made its transition from book to cinema. The subject matter appeals to both children and adults, just as does chocolate candy. Even J. K. Rowling's Harry Potter gives a nod to the matter, also. Now and then some of her characters who end up in the infirmary are given chunks of chocolate to eat in order to facilitate healing.

Do you have a family story about chocolate? A favorite chocolate dessert? What happens when the candy melts in your hand?

Shakespeare said

Sweets to the sweet; farewell!

Small & Smallest

2005-07-13T17:27:00.000-04:00

Madonna and Child by Duccio di Buoninsegna

When we think of great works of art, we do not visualize them as small enough to display on our refrigerators along with a child's Kindergarten drawings. The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City has recently purchased the Madonna and Child for a price said to be between forty-five and fifty million dollars. The painting is dated around 1300 A.D., a Renaissance masterpiece. It is not surprising for that amount of money to be spent on a rare painting by an acknowledged artist; what is unusual is its size: eleven inches high by a little over eight inches wide - the size of an ordinary sheet of typing paper. It is painted with tempera and gold leaf on a wooden panel. Those who have seen it attest to its glowing beauty and commanding presence. The Madonna lovingly holds the Child whose tiny hand is lifted to her veil as if to hold it aside. Small as it is, it is America's treasured answer to da Vinci's masterpiece, the Mona Lisa in Paris.

Have you ever passed up an artwork at a garage sale because it was too small? What drawings do you have on your refrigerator door? Have you framed a child's artwork or saved it in a safe place for years? What painting is your favorite as seen in a museum or in an art book?

quantum mechanics a theory of matter that is based on the concept of the possession of wave properties by elementary particles
subatomic of, relating to, or being particles smaller than atoms

Light is taken for granted: sunrise to sunset, candlelight to electric light, starlight and moonlight, lightning to fireflies. There are many subatomic particles embedded in an atom, but the most spectacular ones are those we can see, not individually, but by their overall effects: photons. Wherever there is light, there are photons for photons are light itself.

In the August 12, 1997 Kalamazoo Gazette, there appeared an article titled Quantum Magic by Malcolm W. Browne of The New York Times. The subheadline reads as follows:When Miles Apart Separated Particles Communicate Faster Than The Speed Of Light. Those particles are photons.

Briefly, an experiment was set up to send pairs of photons along optical fibers in opposite directions, seven miles apart. One of the pair was given a command and the other, miles away, obeyed the same command simultaneously. The experiment was replicated and verified by other scientists, and gave rise to new thinking about the speed of light.

How many forms of light can you observe near you? Have you studied the effects of differing wave lengths? Will you want to know more about subatomic particles, including photons?

Sir James Hopwood Jeans wrote

Physics tries to discover the pattern of events which controls the phenomena we observe. But we can never know what this pattern means or how it originates; and even if some superior intelligence were to tell us, we should find the explanation unintelligible.

Summer Stock Tips

2005-07-07T11:29:00.000-04:00

comedy a drama of light and amusing character and typically with a happy ending

The two faces of Drama are Comedy and Tragedy. Shakespeare used both elements in his serious plays, but we, in summer, prefer Comedy undiluted. Summertime is a season dedicated to as much pleasure as can be squeezed into its short months and long days. A great part of summer's activities takes place on stages of all kinds - indoors and outdoors.

Summer Stock theatrical productions of stock companies presented during the summer

These are performances by travelling companies of professionals who go on tour from city to city, but are sometimes in permanent quarters. They have a repertoire of several plays proven to be universally popular. Some companies feature actors and actresses whose faces and forms are well-known to movie and TV viewers.

Summer Theater a theater that presents several different plays or musicals during the summer

These theaters are often found on the outskirts of cities and towns. They occupy permanent buildings and consist of established professional companies. Some are dinner theaters with outdoor facilities. Most will feature one famous performer sure to draw large audiences. The repertoire consists of the best in light popular entertainment, both plays and musical comedies.

Local Offerings

The best of these entertainments has been saved for a last mention. In every locality there are amateur productions of well-known little plays and other offerings for the amusement of relatives, neighbors, and others seeking entertainment nearby. Some efforts are held in parks and other outdoor settings. Whether in the open or in an auditorium, attendance is good and performances are much appreciated. There is something else to be considered - some of the performers in these amateur productions will be inspired to continue in the dramatic arts and may become the stars of tomorrow. They should be encouraged by everyone.

What plays have amused you most? Where were they performed? Were some of the performers well-known to you? Did anyone you know actually write a play which was performed locally? Was a stage set up in a park?

Thomas Campion wrote

The summer hath his joys.

Two For July One

2005-07-01T08:45:00.000-04:00

evanescent tending to vanish like vapor

Scene from the Arch

The serene summer night explodes.
Bursts of evanescent sparks
shower blue and gold, silver and red,
overlay moon, stars, and each other.
Celebratory sounds bombard the ears
and disappear into memory.

ML

In a more quiet way, a gardener may see another side of July and do what little can be done to make amends.

A Gardener's Atonement

At the toe edge of a footprint in warm dry earth,
A tomato worm, ruptured, just past agony, still:
Velvet moss skin, riven, emits yellow-green effluent,
Bulging obesity suspended in slime.

The shadow of a hand sweeps across the blight,
Dims the shining ooze and withdraws,
Leaving behind a sprig of stalk,
Ragged leaf, yellow star blossom
And a bittersweet pungency in the air.

ML

Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote

Oh, tenderly the haughty day
Fills his blue urn with fire.

Wish You Were Here

2005-06-28T08:49:00.000-04:00

Vacation time in 2005 means keeping in touch with the folks at home by e mail and cell phones. These messages disappear quickly without a trace. The memory may linger but there is nothing tangible to hold and to treasure. There is a solution.

Everywhere there are racks of postcards for sale. For the price of a card, a postage stamp and a pen, a permanent written remembrance can be sent. Photographs stored in and sent from digital cameras record places and people in reality; postcards represent the ideal and have a further benefit. It is the personal touch, something to be held in hand and in the heart - and kept.

Oliver Goldsmith wrote

That strain once more; it bids remembrance rise.

The Plot Thickens

2005-06-25T09:51:00.000-04:00

novel an invented prose narrative that is usu. long and complex and deals esp. with human experience through a usu. connected sequence of events

Occasionally it becomes necessary to listen to someone expounding the confusing complications of life who mistakenly believes the events are unique and interesting. The long-winded remarks often end with "I could write a book!".

It isn't that easy. It takes more than a wish in order to write a novel that will appeal to readers. There must be many characters interacting within multiple interwoven plots. Keeping track of those characters and where each of them fits into the story line is a major task. A problem or conflict interesting enough to engage the reader must arise and then be solved satisfactorily by a character or characters who have gained the readers' rapt attention.

This cannot be accomplished by the person quoted above. It's the boredom factor that prohibits successful narration and that can kill a novel. A better suggestion is to write a short story. Have one or two likeable characters involved with some conflict which is solved intelligently. Tell it succinctly and to the point. Leave the novel until a short story has been written and received successfully.

Have you begun to write a story that you did not finish? Will you consider writing short stories for your family? Have you entertained others with your imaginative narratives? Will you consider doing so? Do you have old manuscripts lying dormant in a file?

Shakespeare wrote

This is the short and the long of it.

Good Timing

2005-06-17T15:44:00.000-04:00

paradox a statement that is seemingly contradictory or opposed to common sense and yet is perhaps true

It is thought that time passes quickly during moments of happiness and that it seems to pass slowly when stress is present. Most clocks, on Earth, nevertheless measure time as consistent and dependable regardless of conditions.

A passenger looking out of a window in a car or a train might notice telephone poles or fenceposts whizzing by alongside the road or the tracks, almost in a blur. In the far distance, however, features such as hills, forest, and landmarks, seem to be moving slowly in contrast to the speed of the vehicle.

A rowboat propelled slowly along a river will present a similar situation. To the viewer the riverbank will appear to be sliding past slowly in the near distance, but objects on land in the far distance will appear almost to be standing still, but not quite.

A person walking on a path and looking to the left or to the right will notice nearby objects moving past at the same rate as the walker going forward. The far distant scene seems almost immobile.

The car, train, telephone poles, fenceposts, and distant features are being passed at the same rate of speed regardless of the illusion of differing motion.The same goes for the rowboat and the person walking. What the senses perceive is not always accurate.

Have you noticed that in snapshots taken from the window of a speeding car (depending on the camera) the foreground is a blur but the background is clear, or almost so? Have you felt uncomfortable in a fast moving car until you looked off into the stable distance? Have you given thought to the characteristics of time? Will you look from a moving vehicle's window with new insight?

Daniel Webster said

There is nothing so powerful as truth - and often nothing so strange.

The Invisible Existent

2005-06-11T21:40:00.000-04:00

existent having being:existing:present

A newspaper is an ordinary item, but it hides an extraordinary sight in its printers' ink. When the text is put under a high power microscope it is seen to be constantly jittering, colliding, a dance of molecules. The action is named "Brownian motion".

Fruit flies are the tiny darlings of scientific experiment, but are nuisances to be gotten rid of when they descend on overripe fruit or decaying vegetables. And yet, when a fruit fly wing is seen through a microscope an enchantment appears: a lacy, shimmering rainbow of color which elicits astonishment that radiant beauty can be found in so common an insect.

A springtime leaf is green and appears solidly so, but when one is picked and placed under a microscope there is movement: a network of tiny green rivers of chlorophyll are seen to be flowing through it.

These phenomena are some of the "invisible existents" until revealed by the microscope. What have you seen when using a microscope that most surprised you? Did someone once give you a toy science set that contained a microscope? Would the three examples given above lead you to investigate other things that might reveal an unexpected characteristic?

An aside From telescopes in outer space we have pictures of our planet Earth, a beautiful jewel. We can imagine that we are in that picture even though no microscope can show us ourselves. We are the Invisible Existent!

History In Your Shoebox?

2005-06-05T13:15:00.000-04:00

photography the art or process of producing images on a sensitized surface by the action of radiant energy and esp. light

Photography is one of the Fine Arts. The names Alfred Stieglitz and Ansel Adams, among others, come to mind. Their photographs are masterpieces, presenting to us certain moments in time and thus preserving a history of those times.

There are in countless homes, hidden on top closet shelves, in attics full of discards, on floors behind furnaces, neglected snapshots thrown randomly into shoeboxes or other containers. They are there because there wasn't time or inclination to deal with them then, and are thus forgotten in this day of digital photography. Whether those pictures are in color or in black and white, they are hidden history. Some may prove to be valuable because they have recorded an event, a scene, a person, in some special way.

What can be learned by looking at them? People: young becoming older, changing styles in hair, cosmetics, clothing, ornaments - all from a certain point in time. Modes of transportation: cars, once new, now antiques; surface transport, air, and sea. Buildings constructed for a definite use, now transformed into something entirely different or torn down. Changing skylines of cities; scenery now bulldozed and gone or victim of nature's effect. Notice backgrounds, once ignored in deference to foreground subjects, which hold meaningful images now. History in your shoebox.

Do you have old snapshots lying loose in a box? Have you written dates on them, and names? Will you look at them, now, with history in mind? Will you use technology instead of a shoebox in order to preserve them?

Chinese Proverb:

One picture is worth more than ten thousand words.

June, The Perfect Days

2005-06-01T12:58:00.000-04:00

poetry writing that formulates a concentrated imaginative awareness of experience in language chosen and arranged to create a specific response through meaning, sound, and rhythm; also, something likened to poetry esp. in beauty of expression

The above definition gives a poet two choices: to follow a strict pattern of rhythm and rhyme, or to express emotion in what is called "free verse". The sonnet form has been demonstrated here previously; also examined has been the carefree "doggerel". Free verse is the poetry of choice for June. The first day of June gives rise to thoughts of a certain beginning.

Verse 1

When we walk we float
over curbs, skirt open manholes,
teeter on brinks, oblivious -
nothing exists but us.
Through some phenomenon of mind
other people fade, become transparent,
disappear.

And yet I see you clearly
and I know that you see me.

The next poem represents a future time and experience. It is not an ending; it is a midpoint, and its subject is the same as in Verse 1.

Verse 2

The rain attacks my darkened pane
with wet and urgent-knuckled rap.
Aroused, I step with eager tread
to press my cheek against
the cold, vibrating glass, and
strain to see...
night. The roaring void holds only wind
and cross-hatched rain.
You are not there.
I sink to lonely sheets, curl myself
to fetal form and wait for warmth from
quilt and wool to comfort me.
Stacatto shattered drops drum on,
demanding a response.

I shut it out, withdraw to my secure
cocoon
And hear my soft and solitary pulse
repeat in gentle rhythms where you are.

Both verses are about the same thing, but diverse in tone and taken from different viewpoints. If you were to write a poem, would you use the traditional form or free verse? Do you recognize the subject matter in the above poems? Have you written or attempted to write poetry?

James Russell Lowell wrote

And what is so rare as a day in June? Then, if ever, come perfect days.

Shall We Pas de Deux?

2005-05-28T14:52:00.000-04:00

ballet a theatrical artform using dancing, music, and scenery to convey a story, theme or atmosphere; also, dancing in which conventional poses and steps are combined with light flowing figures (as leaps and turns)

pas de deux a dance or figure for two performers; also, an intricate relationship involving two parties or things

The Nutcracker Ballet, seen by millions during the Christmas season, onstage or in TV reruns, is one of the best examples of the two definitions. Whether it is performed by a professional dance troupe or by hometown dancers, it is delightful. It tells the story of a young girl who has attended a gala family Christmas party, and afterwards falls asleep clutching her favorite gift, a wooden Nutcracker doll. In her dream, the Nutcracker comes to life as a handsome Prince and leads her to see a spectacular series of performances. When she awakens, the Nutcracker is once again her beloved wooden toy.

Professional ballet dancers, male and female, are well-trained athletes. The men appear to have superhuman strength as they perform their leaps, turns, and seem to hover in mid-air. They also lift and join the small, fragile ballerinas in dance - but it must be remembered that the "small, fragile" dancers are also athletes, feminine and graceful though they are. Every muscle in a dancer's body is strong as steel and flexible as rubber. Ballet is a strenuous discipline; its dancers may only perform at their best for a limited number of years.

The Chicago Bear's football coach, some years ago, sent some of his players to have
ballet lessons in order to better perform their maneuvers on the playing field, which leads to this vignette:

A ballet studio. There are twenty or thirty teenage girls, clad in black leotards and tights, wearing soft ballet slippers. They are practicing ballet positions. Among them is a huge Bear's football player practicing along with them.A waltz tune is being played by a pianist. Suddenly the huge man leaves the line, takes the hand of one of the girls and, side by side, hand in hand they dance a weaving pas de deux across the studio, ending at the feet of the annoyed ballet instructor who is standing arms akimbo and frowning. The music stops. The lesson continues.

That young girl was Odysseuse, who has never forgotten that glorious light-as-air minute.

Have you attended a ballet perfomance? Or a dance recital of any kind? Have you taken dance lessons? Do you sometimes wish you had?

William Butler Yeats wrote

O body swayed to music, O brightening glance, How can we know the dancer from the dance?

What Are You Thinking?

2005-05-25T16:58:00.000-04:00

philosophy the most general beliefs, concepts, and attitudes of an individual or group

It is said that of the billions upon billions of snowflakes, no two were, are, or will be, alike. They do have two qualities in common: each is hexagonal, or six-sided, and is intricately beautiful. Of the billions upon billions of humans, no two were, are, or will be identical - even such twins have different fingerprints - but we share many more than two similarities. One of the most important is that we can think.

We can think about anything from what to have for lunch to trying to justify teaching calculus while wearing sneakers. Anything that comes to mind qualifies as thinking. Beliefs, concepts, attitudes - our thinking ranges far and wide among those topics and many more, and there are as many viewpoints as there were, are, and will be, human beings.

Philosophy is a difficult subject to write about as well as to study. Why? Because it presents ideas from centuries past up to the present, and its subject matter has no limits. The above definition was the simplest one found in a dictionary. "Love of Wisdom" would also define it. But a problem arises: what is wisdom? The answers rival the snowflakes for quantity. Philosophers, men and women, through the ages, have thought about and written about that question. There are no answers except the ones the individual thinkers believe.

When do you do your best thinking? Do you enjoy a good debate? Are you comfortable sharing thoughts and ideas? Do you have an acquaintance or friend whose opinions differ from yours, but whom you respect?

Rene Descartes said (in translation from the French)

I think;therefore I am.

Book Meme

2005-05-22T17:32:00.000-04:00

A most unique and entertaining blog comes to us from Birdsong. Both her interests and her location are brought to us in writing and in photographs. Check out the burros!

She has asked for answers to several questions about books, so here are mine.

l. Total number of books in your house.

About 300 at present - there were more that were given away when a move from house to apartment took place.

2. Last book bought.

An Annie Dillard trilogy.

3. Last book read.

A Penguin Classic edition of Homer's Odyssey.

4. Five or six books you often reread or that mean a lot to you.

Jan Karon: At Home In Mitford - for calm bedtime reading.

P.G. Wodehouse: Uncle Fred in the Springtime - for laugh-out-loud pleasure.

Ngaio Marsh: Night At The Vulcan - for a theatre mystery with a great romance.

Jane Austen: Emma - because she is lovable in spite of herself.

Leon Lederman: The God Particle - a comical introduction to physics.

Charlotte MacCleod: Rest You Merry - a humorous mystery for those of us who like to decorate our houses and yards at Christmastime, and contains a great romance.

It will be interesting to hear how many books Stitches of Violet has in her home and what she prefers to read and reread.

Enter Stage Right

2005-05-20T21:22:00.000-04:00

stage a raised platform
passion suffering (Biblical)

If a cartoonist were asked to produce a drawing representing Drama, imagine what it would look like. There might be two large heads, one with a grotesque turned-down mouth, frowning eyebrows over tear-filled eyes, labelled Tragedy. The other, with a wide open smile, upraised eyebrows over sparkling eyes, labelled Comedy. From both heads would dangle dozens of small headlets, some separate, some intertwined, indicating the various forms of histrionics, all resting on the massive shoulders of Theatre.

Everyone has attended parades at one time or another. The colorful floats roll by spectators who are standing still or sitting. The Middle Ages (13th, 14th Centuries)had a version of that in reverse. Small stationary raised wooden platforms, some on wheels, were lined up in church courtyards, becoming small stages facing the passers-by and congregants. Each of the wagons had actors, scenery, a continuing story to tell, and people would walk from one to another. The little plays were called Passion Plays, and then there also came Morality Plays. All of them were intended to instruct as well as to entertain the populace.

A bit before Shakespeare's time (15th, 16th Centuries)theatres, much as we now know them, came into being. Those small raised wooden platforms on wagons became one large permanent stage with little balcony stages above and to the inner sides of it, housed in a building. The subject matter became similar to what we experience in our contemporary theatres: Tragedy and Comedy, bolstered and augmented by their little headlets.

There are many thousands of raised platforms, all sizes, used for many purposes today.
Have you ever had reason to be onstage? What has a raised platform meant to you? Were you in the audience or were you a participant? Costumed? Were there doting relatives in attendance? Are you now happy with the memory?

Shakespeare said

All the world's a stage/And all the men and women merely players.

Exeunt Stage Left

A Tip Of The Hat To Technology

2005-05-16T21:49:00.000-04:00

technology a manner of accomplishing a task esp.using technical processes, methods or knowledge

In the 17th Century, while sitting under a tree an apple fell on Isaac Newton's noggin. He made it his task to discover the reason it landed on his head instead of flying off into the air. The technology he used was simple logic that gave rise, we understand, to several equations describing the elements and characteristics of motion. Newton had something to say about acceleration - he would have understood what is happening now. There is no slowing down of technology's advances; every day it is gathering speed and there's no stopping it. Nor do we want to.

Think of the spectacularly beautiful images of our universe brought to us by the Hubble Telescope; the Mars terrain recorded by the twin rovers on the ground there; the views of our own lovely planet Earth, photographed from the Space Shuttles. In the last ten or twenty years, more or less, what effect has technology had on your life? What is possible now that once was impossible? And - what might the future hold?

Shakespeare said

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

Here's To Dick, Jane, Sally, And Spot

2005-05-13T16:01:00.000-04:00

book a set of written, printed, or blank sheets bound together in a volume

They once taught a generation of children to read. As an introduction to Literature, they failed, but as a quartet of tools opening the way to literacy, they succeeded. It's probable no one has ever voiced a desire to read another book featuring Dick, Jane, Sally, and Spot. It would be interesting to know if anyone past the age of Kindergarten or First Grade kept copies of those books in plain sight on a bookshelf. Any existent copies are probably rare enough to be collectors' items - but certainly not kept for their entertainment value. Perhaps the illustrations, today, would bring back amusing and nostalgic memories of a simpler time. In speaking with someone who knows, it has been pointed out that the various characters were introduced gradually as the little pupil progressed in reading skills.

What was your first introduction to reading? Do you remember learning to read or are you one of those fortunate people who feels as if you were born able to read? Do you read for pleasure, for information, or both? Do you have a book or books that you like to reread at least once a year?

Francis Bacon wrote

Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested.

Hop-scotch, Little Brother To Dance

2005-05-10T12:22:00.000-04:00

hop-scotch a child's game in which a player tosses an object (such as a stone) into areas of a figure outlined on the ground and hops through the figure and back to regain the object

Oh the lovely Spring days when the clumsy footgear of winter is replaced by lightweight sneakers or sandals, freeing the feet and the spirit to be light as air. So games are played. The pattern of hop-scotch is a game and at the same time is an introduction to Dance. One foot hop hop hop, two feet twin hop, one foot hop hop hop, two feet twin hop - and reverse. Was the stone picked up? The grid may vary, sometimes outlined on a sidewalk, a chalk outline on gravel or asphalt, according to region and custom. What is permanent is the choreography, a prerequisite to Dance.

When a child, did you play a game like hop-scotch which involves a certain footwork? Were simple tapdances taught to you in school? Were they easy to learn? And fun? Did dancing become a pleasure for you then and on into adulthood?

Alexander Pope wrote

...those move easiest who have learned to dance.

Are There Designs On You?

2005-05-06T17:04:00.000-04:00

designthe arrangement of elements or details in a product or work of art

The answer would be yes, even if you are wearing a burlap sack. There would be a hole center top for your head, holes on the sides for your arms. That sack has a double design and use history: someone came up with a practical sack shape made of durable material to contain something. Then someone cut three holes in it to make a garment for you, and aesthetics be darned. However, embroider it with an all over design of red roses and trumpet vine - it has become a work of art in the eye of the beholder, at least.

Design is found in many places. You have a certain hairstyle, designed in the latest cut, curl, or straight manner. You may be wearing earrings or other ornaments on yourself in various places according to the latest trends, either requiring piercing or not. Tattoos, plain or intricate are designs as well as products, and many of them are also art.

The utilitarian items we see around us at home, as well as the most complicated and beautiful ones that we see and use, or covet, anywhere, have been and are designed. What designed item in your living space most pleases your eye? What have you given or thrown away because you didn't like its appearance? What kinds of design catch your eye?

Design is everywhere, it threads its way throughout the Arts, together with its necessary sibling, Technology.

An Elephant Paints: Is it Art?

2005-05-03T14:08:00.000-04:00

We've seen the end result: an elephant wielding a brush creates a painting. Let's examine what might have preceded that event. Someone realized elephants could be trained to use their trunks in fine movements by watching them reach for and eat peanuts. Why not teach them to use tools such as paintbrushes? Further, why not provide a large sheet of sturdy watercolor paper, furnish several containers of different paint colors, and train the animal to slosh paint at random on the paper and Voila! Art!

The elephant trainer was apprised of the task and chose the one elephant felt to be capable of the successful production of the proposed paintings. The paintbrushes and several bright colors of paint were chosen by the trainer. A decision about how to position the paper, flat on the ground or propped on an easel, had to be made. Using the paintbrush in a certain manner and alternating brushes and colors had to be taught or done by the trainer. Where in this does creativity, essential to any artwork, originate? Not with the elephant, which is simply following orders. Is the artist the person who thought an elephant could be a painter, or is the artist the trainer who used the elephant as a means of creating paintings? Perhaps there is no artist. What do you think?

I leave you with this, overheard in an art gallery,

My four year old can do better art than this stuff.

Perhaps, if the competition is an elephant.

A Vague Memory & Dance as Art

2005-04-29T19:29:00.000-04:00

A train station in Paris, wrapped in black wrought iron, remembered dimly;then the night sky, glorious with stars brilliant and comforting over ocean, leads into Ellis Island's massive windows and brown benches. Sitting and waiting is made bearable by watching a canary in a wooden cage. Memory vanishes at that point.

We cannot know when humans began to step in rhythmic forms. It may be that prehistoric man celebrated a successful hunt by changing his running steps into irregular leaps and bounds, and found it so pleasing to do that the movements became ritual. And perhaps chanting began at that time, thus adding Music to Dance and forming another close relationship between two of the Arts. Most dance modes depend on a strong rhythmic beat, provided by music, that dictates their choreography.

When did you find yourself moving spontaneously to music? Were you aware you were dancing? Or marching? What music set you in motion then, and what music does so at present?

odysseuse will welcome you to May with a bit of doggerel in the next post.

Odysseuse

2005-04-24T20:03:00.000-04:00

The adventures of Odysseuse began near a field of full-blossoming marguerites in Zurich, Switzerland. They continued through space and time in various places and now occur in America's midwest. The journey has not yet ended.

Whether it is realized or not, the Arts have an impact on us, visually, aurally, and emotionally, beginning at an early age. But the Arts also have a partner: the Sciences, often represented by technology. The great advances in the way we listen to music - from 78s to CDs and onward - have come from technical inventions. And that thought leads to the great concert halls, represented by architecture. Accoustics in those concert halls are not accidental - those good sounds heard in them arise from scientific knowledge of how best sound is transmitted.

So here we have two of the Arts: Music and Architecture, neither of which is a simple subject, for there are many offshoots of the two. Music is that to which you prefer to listen. Architecture is Buildings, bridges, and monuments.

You may think you aren't interested in Arts or Sciences. It may be more to the point to say you are unaware of their influence. Here's something to think about: when you were very young, was there a building you still remember, or a bridge, or monument, and what is the first music or song you remember liking?

Odysseuse (the feminine of Odysseus) leaves you with this thought:

Arts, bow in gratitude to the Sciences!

A Sonnet in a Hurry!

2005-04-23T19:40:00.000-04:00

And why should any sonnet be in a hurry? This one is because it's set in April and there are only seven days left.

Written by Odysseuse:

The first shy violets of April thrust
their singing hues up through decaying snow,
denying winter's hold and dying gust
with tranquil scent and sweet cerulean glow.
In hives, reluctant bumbling bees begin
to rumble, buzz, and consultate, then flee
the comb in clouds to nominate their queen
and cleave with death in winging ecstacy.
Upon a branch yet bare of bud or leaf,
a bluebird late returned from southern shores
swell-throated sings his soul's sincere belief
in spring; with love his song to heaven soars.

And I, observing, feel myself emerge
from ice to warm and eager vernal urge.

I don't know in what form this will be published, but I assure you it is a fourteen line poem of twelve lines and a couplet.

The next post will reveal a bit about Odysseuse.

Let's Begin!

2005-04-22T18:26:00.000-04:00

Odysseuse is at the beginning of an educational adventure in blogging. It seems there will be at least ten more lessons, on completion of which there will be photos to go along with text. And perhaps there will be sketches by Odysseuse if the scanner functions as desired. Odysseuse, Marguerite Louise's alter-ego, is an artist and writer well known in the family and very little known elsewhere. "Petite a petite L'Oiseau fait son nit", a little saying remembered from a long-ago French class."Little by little the bird builds its nest." It fits this occasion.

Tomorrow's blog will be a springtime sonnet which has lain fallow in a folder and needs to come to light. Cheer up - the main thrust of this blog will be the Arts, and you will be amazed how much the Arts are with you when you least think they are. Like stand-up comedy? It's an Art!