August Offerings – Part XXV: Something to Delight both Head and Heart

American Art – Part I of IV: Elliot Orr

In the words of one writer, “Elliot Orr was born in Flushing, New York in 1904. He studied at Grand Central Art School with Charles Hawthorne and moved to Provincetown, Massachusetts in 1924. He studied with George Luks in 1927. Orr was included in the exhibitions ‘Romantic Painting in America’ at the Carnegie Institute. In 1977, he moved to Naples, Florida, where he was the subject of a retrospective exhibition held at Harmon-Meek Gallery in Naples. He died in 1997.”

Below – “The Day Begins”; “Stage Harbor, Chatham”; “Small Craft
Warning”; “Morris Island Life Saving Station”; “Cape Cod, Where the Land Meets the Sea.”
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Reflections in Summer: Paul Theroux

“Tourists don’t know where they’ve been, travelers don’t know where they’re going.”
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A Poem for Today

“Lineman”
By Len Krisak

(Grand Trunk Western Railroad, 1967)

Cocky and freshly spurred, he climbed
Amid the alien corn: green row
On row arrayed in June and primed.
He climbed and saw those ranked spears grow

As close as ears could get to tracks.
Far off, four rails consumed their ties
Until they were the least of facts
And disappeared before his eyes.

This was his summer job: to dig
Heels in, step up, belt on, come down.
But slung back in his aerie’s rig,
A yellow hard hat for a crown,

The lineman only meant to sight
How far his lonely kingdom ran
From such a pole, at such a height
As might become a brand new man.

He strung the wire and walked till Fall,
To see what might be out of joint.
But nothing there seemed wrong at all,
From vantage clear to vanishing point.
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Reflections in Summer: Josh Gates

“If travel has momentum and wants to stay in motion, as I mentioned earlier, then adventure has the gravitational pull of a black hole. The more you do it, the more you find a way to keep doing it.”
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In the words of one writer, “Chris Bennett is an Australian artist currently living in Hobart, Tasmania. He completed his Bachelor of Fine Art in 2006, and continued in 2007 to obtain first class honours at the Queensland College of Art in Brisbane. Chris has been developing his current series over the last five years, focusing on themes of urban alienation, entropy and social decay, and the slow death of personal aspiration.”
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Reflections in Summer: Roy T. Bennett

“Until you step into the unknown, you don’t know what you’re made of.”
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“Sometimes people don’t want to hear the truth because they don’t want their illusions destroyed.” – Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche, German philosopher, philologist, cultural critic, poet, composer, and author of “The Birth of Tragedy” and “Thus Spoke Zarathustra,” who died 25 August 1900.

Some quotes from the work of Friedrich Nietzsche:

“And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.”
“The individual has always had to struggle to keep from being overwhelmed by the tribe. If you try it, you will be lonely often, and sometimes frightened. But no price is too high to pay for the privilege of owning yourself.”
“When we are tired, we are attacked by ideas we conquered long ago.”
“The snake which cannot cast its skin has to die. As well the minds which are prevented from changing their opinions; they cease to be mind.”
“In individuals, insanity is rare; but in groups, parties, nations and epochs, it is the rule.”
“The surest way to corrupt a youth is to instruct him to hold in higher esteem those who think alike than those who think differently.”
“Faith: not wanting to know what the truth is.”
“Every deep thinker is more afraid of being understood than of being misunderstood.”
“Thoughts are the shadows of our feelings — always darker, emptier and simpler.”
“There are no beautiful surfaces without a terrible depth.”
“The higher we soar the smaller we appear to those who cannot fly.”
“A thinker sees his own actions as experiments and questions–as attempts to find out something. Success and failure are for him answers above all.”
“There are two different types of people in the world, those who want to know, and those who want to believe.”
“Art is the proper task of life. ”
“You must have chaos within you to give birth to a dancing star.”
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Reflections in Summer: Steve Goodier

“Leaving what feels secure behind and following the beckoning of our hearts doesn’t always end as we expect or hope. We may even fail. But here’s the payoff: it can also be amazing and wonderful and immensely satisfying.”
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American Art – Part II o IV: Carolyn Pyfrom

Carolyn Pyfrom (born 1971) has studied painting at Obirin University, Troy University, and the Florence Academy of Art.
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Reflections in Summer: Abby Lass

“They told me adventures were over, so I got off the internet and got on a plane. They told me kindness was a thing of the past, so I spent a year helping others in need. They told me love was dead, so I fell into it. Head over heels.”
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A Second Poem for Today

“Living Ancients,”
By Matthew Shenoda

For those of us young
healthy
we will face the mourning of our elders.
Bury them beneath
the earth.
And for those of us
who believe the living
ever-live
we will stand by the graves of our teachers
and know that we
like those we’ve buried
are living ancients.

Below – Edward Manet: “The Funeral” (This painting depicts the funeral of Manet’s friend, the writer Charles Baudelaire.)
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Reflections in Summer: Frank Lloyd Wright

“Study nature, love nature, stay close to nature. It will never fail you.”

Below – Frank Lloyd Wright: Falling Water House
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“Did you ever, in that wonderland wilderness of adolescence ever, quite unexpectedly, see something, a dusk sky, a wild bird, a landscape, so exquisite terror touched you at the bone? And you are afraid, terribly afraid the smallest movement, a leaf, say, turning in the wind, will shatter all? That is, I think, the way love is, or should be: one lives in beautiful terror.” – Truman Capote (born Truman Streckfus Persons), American writer, playwright, screenwriter, and author of “Other Voices, Other Rooms” and “In Cold Blood,” who died 25 August 1984.

Some quotes from the work of Truman Capote:

“Failure is the condiment that gives success its flavor.”
“Good luck and believe me, dearest Doc – it’s better to look at the sky than live there. Such an empty place; so vague. Just a country where the thunder goes and things disappear.”
“Life is difficult enough without Meryl Streep movies.”
“I love New York, even though it isn’t mine, the way something has to be, a tree or a street or a house, something, anyway, that belongs to me because I belong to it.”
“The brain may take advice, but not the heart, and love, having no geography, knows no boundaries: weight and sink it deep, no matter, it will rise and find the surface: and why not? any love is natural and beautiful that lies within a person’s nature; only hypocrites would hold a man responsible for what he loves, emotional illiterates and those of righteous envy, who, in their agitated concern, mistake so frequently the arrow pointing to heaven for the one that leads to hell.”
“But we are alone, darling child, terribly, isolated each from the other; so fierce is the world’s ridicule we cannot speak or show our tenderness; for us, death is stronger than life, it pulls like a wind through the dark, all our cries burlesqued in joyless laughter; and with the garbage of loneliness stuffed down us until our guts burst bleeding green, we go screaming round the world, dying in our rented rooms, nightmare hotels, eternal homes of the transient heart.”
“Let me begin by telling you that I was in love. An ordinary statement, to be sure, but not an ordinary fact, for so few of us learn that love is tenderness, and tenderness is not, as a fair proportian suspect, pity; and still fewer know that happiness in love is not the absolute focusing of all emotion in another: one has always to love a good many things which the beloved must come only to symbolize; the true beloveds of this world are in their lovers’s eyes lilacs opening, ship lights, school bells, a landscape, remembered conversations, friends, a child’s Sunday, lost voices, one’s favourite suit, autumn and all seasons, memory, yes, it being the earth and water of existence, memory.”
“Life is a moderately good play with a badly written third act.”
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Reflections in Summer: Dan Chaon

“There is your car and the open road, the fabled lure of random adventure. You stand at the verge, and you could become anything. Your future shifts and warps with your smallest step, your shitty little whims. The man you will become is at your mercy.”
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A Third Poem for Today

“Love the Wild Swan”
By Robinson Jeffers

“I hate my verses, every line, every word.
Oh pale and brittle pencils ever to try
One grass-blade’s curve, or the throat of one bird
That clings to twig, ruffled against white sky.
Oh cracked and twilight mirrors ever to catch
One color, one glinting flash, of the splendor of things.
Unlucky hunter, Oh bullets of wax,
The lion beauty, the wild-swan wings, the storm of the wings.”
—This wild swan of a world is no hunter’s game.
Better bullets than yours would miss the white breast,
Better mirrors than yours would crack in the flame.
Does it matter whether you hate your…self? At least
Love your eyes that can see, your mind that can
Hear the music, the thunder of the wings. Love the wild swan.
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Reflections in Summer: Francis Bacon

“The job of the artist is always to deepen the mystery.”

Below – Emily Carr: “Yan”
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American Art – Part III of IV: Christyl Boger

Here is one writer describing the artistry of ceramicist Christyl Boger: “As an artist I have always been interested in the strange balancing act performed by the human animal; in our ongoing struggle between impulse and control, personal and communal agenda, and the desires of the animal body overlaid by a veneer of cultural constraint. Finding a physical form for these thoughts has involved two additional parameters, the first a concern for issues of representation and the second a commitment to the contemporary possibilities of clay as a medium. My intent has been to explore areas where these concerns intersect, and has involved confronting the complex historical associations of both ceramics objects and figurative sculpture.”
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Reflections in Summer: William Hazlitt

“Travel’s greatest purpose is to replace an empty mind with an open one.”
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A Fourth Poem for Today

“After the Season”
By Kate Light

Do not talk to me just now; let me be.
We were up to our ears in pain and loss, and so
I am reuniting all the lovers, fishing the drowned from the sea.

I am removing daggers from breasts and re-
zipping. Making it clear who loves whom—please go.
Do not talk to me just now; let me be.

I am redistributing flowers and potions and flutes, changing key;
rewriting letters, pulling spring out of the snow.
I am reuniting all the lovers, fishing the drowned from the sea.

I am making madness sane, setting prisoners free,
cooling the consumptive cheek, the fevered glow.
Do not talk to me just now; let me be.

Pinkerton and Butterfly make such a happy
couple; Violetta has five gardens now to show …
I am reuniting all the lovers, fishing the drowned from the sea.

The jester and his daughter have moved to a distant city.
Lucia colors her hair now, did you know?
Come, let us talk, sit together and be
lovers reunited, fished like the drowned from the sea.

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Reflections in Summer: F. Scott Fitzgerald

“I felt a haunting loneliness sometimes, and felt it in others–young clerks in the dusk, wasting the most poignant moments of night and life.”
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Back from the Territory – Art: Johnny Qavavau

Johnny Qavavau is in an Inuit Sculptor.

Back from the Territory, I share this with you, before I light out again.

Below – “Walking Bear”
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Reflections in Summer: Evelyn Waugh

“Perhaps all our loves are merely hints and symbols; vagabond-language scrawled on gate-posts and paving-stones along the weary road that others have tramped before us; perhaps you and I are types and this sadness which sometimes falls between us springs from disappointment in our search, each straining through and beyond the other, snatching a glimpse now and then of the shadow which turns the corner always a pace or two ahead of us.”
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American Art – Part IV of IV: Chet Jones

In the words of one writer, “Chet Jone’s moody and evocative oil paintings convey a pared-down and primordial house from within an existential landscape. There is a freshness to the colors and brushwork that fills his painted forms with a vibrant and sometimes haunting presence. His ability to focus on shape allows him to magnify and amplify common architecture and transform it into a new, yet familiar landscape.”

Below – “A Home at Last”; “N. Truro Shed and Bush”; “Collection Bin”; “Library in Winter”; “Summer Room”; “Orange Light.”
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