Musings in Winter: Stephen Hawking
“The idea of 10 dimensions might sound exciting, but they would cause real problems if you forget where you parked your car.”
Art for Winter – Part I of III: Ron Seivertson (American, contemporary)
Below (all glass) – “Pygmy Buffalo”; “Java Tiger Skull”; “Man Through the Ages”
Remembering a Nobel Laureate on the Date of His Death: Died 21 February 1984 – Mikhail Sholokhov, a Russian novelist, author of “And Quiet Flows the Don,” and recipient of the 1965 Nobel Prize in Literature.
Some quotes from the work of Mikhail Sholokhov:
“And over the village slipped the days, passing into the nights; the weeks flowed by, the months crept on, the wind howled, and, glassified with an autumnal, translucent, greenish-azure, the Don flowed tranquilly down to the sea.”
“In my opinion, the true pioneers are those artists who make manifest in their works the new content, the determining characteristics of life in our time.”
“When swept out of its normal channel, life scatters into innumerable streams. It is difficult to foresee which it will take in its treacherous and winding course. Where to-day it flows in shallows, like a rivulet over sandbanks, so shallow that the shoals are visible, to-morrow it will flow richly and fully.”
“In this winter night, long and ample for bitter memories, many a widow who lost her husband in the war and is now left alone will press her palms to her ageing face; and in the nocturnal darkness the burning tears, as bitter as wormwood, will scorch her fingers.”
“The grass grows over the graves, time overgrows the pain. The wind blew away the traces of those who had departed; time blows away the bloody pain and the memory of those who did not live to see their dear ones again—and will not live, for brief is human life, and not for long is any of us granted to tread the grass.”
Art for Winter – Part II of III: Brad Sells (American, contemporary)
Below (all wood) – “Spirit and Ancestors”; “Desert Love”; “Wooden Bowl”
Worth a Thousand Words: A “Hobbit door,” called the Moon Gate, in Bavaria, Germany. Photographer Annie Green-Armytage won an award fro this photograph.
Below – “Idaho”; “Giverny Revisited (Waterlily Pond Triptych)”; “Woman in a Red Dress”
Remembering a Writer on the Date of His Birth: Born 21 February 1907 – W. H. Auden, an English-American poet, playwright, composer, and recipient of the Pulitzer Prize.
“As I Walked Out One Evening”
by W. H. Auden
As I walked out one evening,
Walking down Bristol Street,
The crowds upon the pavement
Were fields of harvest wheat.
And down by the brimming river
I heard a lover sing
Under an arch of the railway:
‘Love has no ending.
‘I’ll love you, dear, I’ll love you
Till China and Africa meet,
And the river jumps over the mountain
And the salmon sing in the street,
‘I’ll love you till the ocean
Is folded and hung up to dry
And the seven stars go squawking
Like geese about the sky.
‘The years shall run like rabbits,
For in my arms I hold
The Flower of the Ages,
And the first love of the world.’
But all the clocks in the city
Began to whirr and chime:
‘O let not Time deceive you,
You cannot conquer Time.
‘In the burrows of the Nightmare
Where Justice naked is,
Time watches from the shadow
And coughs when you would kiss.
‘In headaches and in worry
Vaguely life leaks away,
And Time will have his fancy
To-morrow or to-day.
‘Into many a green valley
Drifts the appalling snow;
Time breaks the threaded dances
And the diver’s brilliant bow.
‘O plunge your hands in water,
Plunge them in up to the wrist;
Stare, stare in the basin
And wonder what you’ve missed.
‘The glacier knocks in the cupboard,
The desert sighs in the bed,
And the crack in the tea-cup opens
A lane to the land of the dead.
‘Where the beggars raffle the banknotes
And the Giant is enchanting to Jack,
And the Lily-white Boy is a Roarer,
And Jill goes down on her back.
‘O look, look in the mirror,
O look in your distress:
Life remains a blessing
Although you cannot bless.
‘O stand, stand at the window
As the tears scald and start;
You shall love your crooked neighbour
With your crooked heart.’
It was late, late in the evening,
The lovers they were gone;
The clocks had ceased their chiming,
And the deep river ran on.
Below – Untitled; Untitled; Untitled; Untitled; Untitled.
Musings in Winter: Antoine de Saint-Exupery
“Night, the beloved. Night, when words fade and things come alive. When the destructive analysis of day is done, and all that is truly important becomes whole and sound again. When man reassembles his fragmentary self and grows with the calm of a tree.”
Contemporary American Art – Eileen Serwer
In the words of one writer, “Eileen Serwer received her Bachelor of Arts degree from Hunter College in N.Y. and attended classes at the Art’s Student’s League and the Pastel Society of America, where she is a signature member. She is also signature member of The Pastel Society of the West Coast, as well as a juried member of the Degas Pastel Society and the National Association of Women Artists and included in Who’s Who in America- 2009.”
Below – “Out West”; “Coast Road”; “Grasses and Trees”; “Laundry, Italy”; “Purple Trees”; “Reflections in Autumn.”