Sentient in Seattle – 1 September 2018

Greeting September – The Morning Glory is one of the flowers associated with September.

Below – Lynette Cook: “Morning’s Glory”

Art for September – Erik Werenskiold: “September”


In the words of one writer, “September (from Latin septem, ‘seven’) was originally the seventh of ten months on the oldest known Roman calendar, with March (Latin Martius) the first month of the year until perhaps as late as 153 BC. After the calendar reform that added January and February to the beginning of the year, September became the ninth month, but retained its name. It had 29 days until the Julian reform, which added a day.”

Below – Paul Emile Chabas: “September Morn” (1911). Note: This was one of the most controversial paintings of its era.

Art for September – Sally Rosenbaum: “September Garden”

A Poem for September

By John Updike

The breezes taste
of apple peel.
The air is full
of smells to feel-
Ripe fruit, old footballs,
burning brush,
new books, erasers,
chalk, and such.
The bee, his hive,
well-honeyed hum,
and Mother cuts
Like plates washed clean
with suds, the days
are polished with
a morning haze.

Below – Margaret Brackley: “Morning Haze”

Art for September – Debbie Lewis: “Colorado in September”

Musings in September: Theodore Roethke

“I have come to a still, but not a deep center,
A point outside the glittering current;
My eyes stare at the bottom of a river,
At the irregular stones, iridescent sandgrains,
My mind moves in more than one place,
In a country half-land, half-water.
I am renewed by death, thought of my death,
The dry scent of a dying garden in September,
The wind fanning the ash of a low fire.
What I love is near at hand,
Always, in earth and air.” – From “The Far Field”

Art for September – Jasper Francis Cropsey: “Greenwood Lake, New Jersey in September”

For Your Information: 1 September is National Cherry Popover Day in the United States.

Art for September – Maurice Denis: “The Seasons Series: September”

A Poem for September

By Theodora (Theo) Onken

Bedraggled scarecrows cry in the wind
While Blackbirds caw to the trees
As if, voices from the once green wood
While the dead leaves blow free;
Rustles of burnished remnants dance
In visions the gold dying leaf
A pause and wait but never late
As Fall carries in her grief;
Relentless winds of change court September
Descending now-a lifetime of Fall
Season’s change make no excuses
For September has, indeed, come to call.

Art for September – Pierre-Auguste Renoir: “Children on the Seashore, Guernsey”

Musings in September: Robert Finch

“But now in September the garden has cooled, and with it my possessiveness.  The sun warms my back instead of beating on my head … The harvest has dwindled, and I have grown apart from the intense midsummer relationship that brought it on.”

Below – Camille Pissarro: “Family Garden”

Art for September – Edward Hopper: “Treadwell’s Folly, Monhegan”

A Poem for September

“In September”
by Amy Levy

The sky is silver-grey; the long
Slow waves caress the shore.–
On such a day as this I have been glad,
Who shall be glad no more.

Art for September – John William Waterhouse: “The Charmer”

A Song for September

Art for September – Winslow Homer: “Warm Afternoon (Shepherdess)”

Musings in September: Sanober Khan

“for all I can really do is
stand here
in September’s rain
soaking it all in
and simply
holding on to poetry
for dear life.”

Below – Vilma Koelman: “Summer Rain”

Art for September – John Singer Sargent: “Oranges at Corfu”

A Poem for September

by Helen Hunt Jackson

O golden month! How high thy gold is heaped!
The yellow birch-leaves shine like bright coins strung
On wands; the chestnut’s yellow pennons tongue
To every wind its harvest challenge. Steeped
In yellow, still lie fields where wheat was reaped;
And yellow still the corn sheaves, stacked among
The yellow gourds, which from the earth have wrung
Her utmost gold. To highest boughs have leaped
The purple grape,—last thing to ripen, late
By very reason of its precious cost.
O Heart, remember, vintages are lost
If grapes do not for freezing night-dews wait.
Think, while thou sunnest thyself in Joy’s estate,
Mayhap thou canst not ripen without frost!

Below – Meaghan Troup: “The Change”

Art for September – Frank Dicksee: “The Mirror”

This Dat in Art History: Born 1 September 1927 – Soshana Afroyin, an Austrian painter.

Below – Untitled; “Sea I”; Untitled; Untitled; “Alone”; “La Mer.”
Art for September – Sidney Richard Percy: “Resting by the Lake in an Evening Glow”

Art for September – Sidney Richard Percy: “Resting by the Lake in an Evening Glow”

A Poem for September

by Lucy Maud Montgomery

Lo! a ripe sheaf of many golden days
Gleaned by the year in autumn’s harvest ways,
With here and there, blood-tinted as an ember,
Some crimson poppy of a late delight
Atoning in its splendor for the flight
Of summer blooms and joys­
This is September.

Art for September – Claude Monet: “The Waterlily Pond”

Musings in September: Henry Rollins

“We know that in September, we will wander through the warm winds of summer’s wreckage. We will welcome summer’s ghost.”

Below – Barbara Schneider: “Prairie”

Art for September – Philip Koch: “Entryway, Edward Hopper’s Truro Studio Kitchen”

A Poem for September

by Linda Ori

Brilliant blue splattered
With crayola colored leaves –
Wind blown and tattered.

Frost on the pumpkins
Corn stalks shocked in silent rows
Like country bumpkins.

Below – Charles Bowen Sims: “Corn Shocks Pumpkins Kentucky”

Art for September – Thomas Eakins: “The Artist’s Wife and His Dog”

Musings in September: Sara Baume

“The old summer’s-end melancholy nips at my heels. There’s no school to go back to; no detail of my life will change come the onset of September; yet still, I feel the old trepidation.”

Art for September – Joseph Kirkpatric: “Ophelia”

This Date in Art History: Died 1 September 2006 – Kyffin Williams, a Welsh painter.

Below – “Snowdonia Peaks”; “Horse, Rhosson Uchaf (St David’s Head)”; “Rough Sea, Rhoscolyn”; “Aberglaslyn Pass, Snowdonia”; “Farmers on the Mountain”; “Welsh Blacks.”

A Song for September

Art for September – Edward Burne-Jones: “Night”

A Poem for September

“The Beautiful Changes”
by Richard Wilbur

One wading a Fall meadow finds on all sides
The Queen Anne’s Lace lying like lilies
On water; it glides
So from the walker, it turns
Dry grass to a lake, as the slightest shade of you
Valleys my mind in fabulous blue Lucernes.

The beautiful changes as a forest is changed
By a chameleon’s tuning his skin to it;
As a mantis, arranged
On a green leaf, grows
Into it, makes the leaf leafier, and proves
Any greenness is deeper than anyone knows.

Your hands hold roses always in a way that says
They are not only yours; the beautiful changes
In such kind ways,
Wishing ever to sunder
Things and things’ selves for a second finding, to lose
For a moment all that it touches back to wonder.

Below – Lawrence Alma-Tadema: “The Roses of Heliogabalus”

Art for September – Albert Joseph Moore: “Azaleas”

Remembering a Nobel Laureate on the Date of His Death: Died 1 September 1970 – Francois Mauriac, a French novelist, poet, playwright, critic, journalist, and recipient of the 1952 Nobel Prize in Literature.

Some quotes from the work of Francois Mauriac:

“No love, no friendship, can cross the path of our destiny without leaving some mark on it forever.”
“If the flame inside you goes out, the souls that are next to you will die of cold.”
“Tell me what you read and I’ll tell you who you are is true enough, but I’d know you better if you told me what you reread.”
“Did you ever have a conversation with someone who misunderstood everything you had to say? It’s exhausting, and the ironic part is that the more you try and explain yourself, the more mixed up things become. Your best friend knows when you’re kidding, venting, and tired. He or she knows you and therefore doesn’t read into the things you say.”
“Men resemble great deserted palaces: the owner occupies only a few rooms and has closed-off wings where he never ventures.”

Art for September – James Tissot: “Quiet”

A Poem for September

“The Light of September”
by W. S. Merwin

When you are already here
you appear to be only
a name that tells of you
whether you are present or not

and for now it seems as though
you are still summer
still the high familiar
endless summer
yet with a glint
of bronze in the chill mornings
and the late yellow petals
of the mullein fluttering
on the stalks that lean
over their broken
shadows across the cracked ground

but they all know
that you have come
the seed heads of the sage
the whispering birds
with nowhere to hide you
to keep you for later

who fly with them

you who are neither
before nor after
you who arrive
with blue plums
that have fallen through the night

perfect in the dew

Below – Julien Merrow-Smith: “Blue Plums”

Art for September – John Atkinson Grimshaw: “Golden Autumn”

Remembering a Composer on the Date of His Birth: Born 1 September 1653 – Johann Pachelbel, a German composer and organist.

Art for September – Edmund Blair Leighton: “September”

Musings in September: Thomas Parsons

“Sorrow and scarlet leaf,
 Sad thoughts and sunny weather.
 Ah me, this glory and this grief
, Agree not well together!” – From “A Song for September”

Art for September – Arthur Hacker: “The Sea Maid”

A Poem for September

by Joanne Kyger

The grasses are light brown
and the ocean comes in
long shimmering lines
under the fleet from last night
which dozes now in the early morning

Here and there horses graze
on somebody’s acreage

Strangely, it was not my desire

that bade me speak in church to be released
but memory of the way it used to be in
careless and exotic play

when characters were promises
then recognitions.  The world of transformation
is real and not real but trusting.

Enough of these lessons?  I mean
didactic phrases to take you in and out of
love’s mysterious bonds?

Well I myself am not myself

and which power of survival I speak
for is not made of houses.

It is inner luxury, of golden figures
that breathe like mountains do
and whose skin is made dusky by stars.

Art for September – John William Waterhouse: “The Soul of the Rose”

A Poem for September

“September Midnight”
by Sara Teasdale

Lyric night of the lingering Indian Summer,
Shadowy fields that are scentless but full of singing,
Never a bird, but the passionless chant of insects,
Ceaseless, insistent.

The grasshopper’s horn, and far-off, high in the maples,
The wheel of a locust leisurely grinding the silence
Under a moon waning and worn, broken,
Tired with summer.

Let me remember you, voices of little insects,
Weeds in the moonlight, fields that are tangled with asters,
Let me remember, soon will the winter be on us,
Snow-hushed and heavy.

Over my soul murmur your mute benediction,
While I gaze, O fields that rest after harvest,
As those who part look long in the eyes they lean to,
Lest they forget them.

Below – Steve Coffey: “Moonlit Field”

Welcome, Wonderful September

Below – Sir Alfred James Munnings: “September Afternoon”

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