Beleaguered in Bothell – 22 December 2017

Art for Winter – Part I of V: Richard Diebenkorn (American, 1922-1993)

Below – Untitled; Untitled

Remembering a Writer on the Date of His Birth: Born 22 December 1869 – Edwin Arlington Robinson, an American poet and playwright.

“The House on the Hill”
By Edwin Arlington Robinson

They are all gone away,
The house is shut and still,
There is nothing more to say.

Through broken walls and gray
The winds blow bleak and shrill:
They are all gone away.

Nor is there one today
To speak them good or ill:
There is nothing more to say.

Why is it then we stray
Around the sunken sill?
They are all gone away.

And our poor fancy-play
For them is wasted skill:
There is nothing more to say.

There is ruin and decay
In the House on the Hill
They are all gone away,
There is nothing more to say.

Art for Winter – Part II of V: Stephen Lyman (American, 1957-2013)

Below – “Early Winter in the Mountains”; “A Walk in the Woods”

For Your Information: 22 December 2017 is National Date Nut Bread in the United States.

Art for Winter – Part III of V: Rhett Lynch (Native American, contemporary)

Below – “Woman in the Heat of the Night”; “Medicine Walk”

Remembering a Nobel Laureate on the Date of His Death: Died 22 December 1989 – Samuel Beckett, an Irish author, poet, playwright, and recipient of the 1969 Nobel Prize in Literature.

Some quotes from the work of Samuel Beckett:

“Words are the clothes thoughts wear.”
“You’re on earth. There’s no cure for that.”
“Nothing is more real than nothing.”
“Perhaps that’s what I feel, an outside and an inside and me in the middle, perhaps that’s what I am, the thing that divides the world in two, on the one side the outside, on the other the inside, that can be as thin as foil, I’m neither one side nor the other, I’m in the middle, I’m the partition, I’ve two surfaces and no thickness, perhaps that’s what I feel, myself vibrating, I’m the tympanum, on the one hand the mind, on the other the world, I don’t belong to either.”
“But what matter whether I was born or not, have lived or not, am dead or merely dying. I shall go on doing as I have always done, not knowing what it is I do, nor who I am, nor where I am, nor if I am.”
“It is useless not to seek, not to want, for when you cease to seek you start to find, and when you cease to want, then life begins to ram her fish and chips down your gullet until you puke, and then the puke down your gullet until you puke the puke, and then the puked puke until you begin to like it.”
“The creation of the world did not take place once and for all time, but takes place every day.”

Art for Winter – Part IV of V: Michael Lynch (American, contemporary)

Below – “Red Willows”; “Well Fed”; “Alley in Winter”

Remembering a Vocalist on the Date of His Death: Died 22 December 2014 – Joe Cocker, an English singer-songwriter.

Art for Winter – Part V of V: Robert MacBryde (Scottish, 1913-1966)

Below – “Portrait of Jenny”; “Table with Fruit”; “Woman with Paper Flowers”

Worth a Thousand Words: Canadian Rockies in Banff, Alberta, Canada.

American Art – Elmer Nelson Bischoff (1916-1991)


In the words of one writer, “Elmer Nelson Bischoff (July 9, 1916 – March 2, 1991) was a visual artist in the San Francisco Bay Area. Bischoff… was part of the post-World War II generation of artists who started as abstract painters and found their way back to figurative art.”

Below – “Yellow Lampshade”; “Green Bathtub”; “Europa”; “The River”; “Figure with White Lake”; “Girls, Ocean, Mirror.”

Remembering a Writer on the Date of His Birth: Born 22 December 1905 – Kenneth Rexroth, an American poet, translator, and academic.

“Falling Leaves and Early Snow”
By Kenneth Rexroth

In the years to come they will say,
“They fell like the leaves
In the autumn of nineteen thirty-nine.”
November has come to the forest,
To the meadows where we picked the cyclamen.
The year fades with the white frost
On the brown sedge in the hazy meadows,
Where the deer tracks were black in the morning.
Ice forms in the shadows;
Disheveled maples hang over the water;
Deep gold sunlight glistens on the shrunken stream.
Somnolent trout move through pillars of brown and gold.
The yellow maple leaves eddy above them,
The glittering leaves of the cottonwood,
The olive, velvety alder leaves,
The scarlet dogwood leaves,
Most poignant of all.

In the afternoon thin blades of cloud
Move over the mountains;
The storm clouds follow them;
Fine rain falls without wind.
The forest is filled with wet resonant silence.
When the rain pauses the clouds
Cling to the cliffs and the waterfalls.
In the evening the wind changes;
Snow falls in the sunset.
We stand in the snowy twilight
And watch the moon rise in a breach of cloud.
Between the black pines lie narrow bands of moonlight,
Glimmering with floating snow.
An owl cries in the sifting darkness.
The moon has a sheen like a glacier.

Contemporary American Art – Richard MacDonald

In the words of one writer, “Richard MacDonald is a celebrated sculptor and a leading advocate of the neo-figurative movement in the arts. Known for his virtuosity in capturing impressions of live models while they are in motion, he depicts performers and dancers at the peak of their performance. “

Below – “Butterfly” (bronze); “Nightfall” (bronze); “Joy de Vivre” (bronze); “Daybreak” (bronze with platinum patina); “Orpheus Ascending” (bronze); “Gymnast” (bronze).

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