Musings in Autumn: Vincent van Gogh
“Find things beautiful as much as you can; most people find too little beautiful.”
Below – Vincent van Gogh: “The Mulberry Tree in Autumn”
Art for Autumn: Bruno Luna (Mexican, contemporary)
Below (all bronze) – “Harpist”; “Crap Table”; “Roulette”
Remembering a Writer and Artist on the Date of His Death: Born 23 September 1991 – Theodore Seuss “Ted” Geisel, an American author, political cartoonist, poet, animator, book publisher, and artist who was best known for writing more than 60 children’s books under the name “Dr. Seuss.”
A personal note: The Grinch is one of my heroes (before his misguided conversion to goodness, of course; I always read “The Grinch Who Stole Christmas” in reverse order, because I love a happy ending.).
Some quotes from the work of Dr. Seuss:
“I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells. Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living.”
“You know you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.”
“They say I’m old-fashioned, and live in the past, but sometimes I think progress progresses too fast!”
“I have heard there are troubles of more than one kind. Some come from ahead and some come from behind. But I’ve bought a big bat. I’m all ready you see. Now my troubles are going to have troubles with me!”
“Adults are just obsolete children and the hell with them.”
“The more that you read, the more things you will know. The more that you learn, the more places you’ll go.”
“Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.”
“You’re off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting,
So… get on your way!”
This Date in Art History: Born 24 September 1899 – William Dobell, an Australian painter.
Below – “Consuelita”; “The Student”; “Night of the Pigs”; “Maid at a Window”; “The Thatchers No. 2”; “New Guinea Natives.”
Worth a Thousand Words: Kenroku-en (Six Attributes Garden), Kanazawa, Ishikawa, Japan.
This Date in Art History: Born 24 September 1962 – Ilgvars Zalans, a Latvian painter.
Below – “Spring”; “Summer”; “Autumn”; “Winter”; “Rainy Day”; “Northflower – Blue.”
Remembering a Writer on the Date of His Birth: Born 23 September 1896 – F. Scott Fitzgerald, an American novelist and short story writer.
Some quotes from the work of F. Scott Fitzgerald:
“For what it’s worth, it’s never too late to be whoever you want to be. I hope you live a life you’re proud of and if you find that you’re not, I hope you have the strength to start over.”
“To be kind is more important than to be right. Many times, what people need is not a brilliant mind that speaks but a special heart that listens.”
“And in the end, we were all just humans…Drunk on the idea that love, only love, could heal our brokenness.”
“Suddenly she realized that what she was regretting was not the lost past but the lost future, not what had not been but what would never be.”
“The world only exists in your eyes. You can make it as big or as small as you want.”
“The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in the mind at the same time, and still retain the ability to function. One should, for example, be able to see that things are hopeless and yet be determined to make them otherwise. This philosophy fitted on to my early adult life, when I saw the improbable, the implausible, often the ‘impossible,’ come true.”
“That is part of the beauty of all literature. You discover that your longings are universal longings, that you’re not lonely and isolated from anyone. You belong.”
“Most of the big shore places were closed now and there were hardly any lights except the shadowy, moving glow of a ferryboat across the Sound. And as the moon rose higher the inessential houses began to melt away until gradually I became aware of the old island here that flowered once for Dutch sailors’ eyes – a fresh, green breast of the new world. Its vanished trees, the trees that had made way for Gatsby’s house, had once pandered in whispers to the last and greatest of all human dreams; for a transitory enchanted moment man must have held his breath in the presence of this continent, compelled into an aesthetic contemplation he neither understood nor desired, face to face for the last time in history with something commensurate to his capacity for wonder.”
“I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you’re proud of. If you find that you’re not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again.”
Below – “Chrysanthemum in Teapot”; “Landscape #2”; “Nashwaak River”; “Spring Breakup”; “Fall Colours”; “Nude.”
Remembering a Writer on the Date of His Birth: Born 24 September 1944 – Eavan Boland, an Irish poet.
“The Lost Land”
by Eavan Boland
I have two daughters.
They are all I ever wanted from the earth.
Or almost all.
I also wanted one piece of ground:
One city trapped by hills. One urban river.
An island in its element.
So I could say ‘mine. My own.’
And mean it.
Now they are grown up and far away
and memory itself
has become an emigrant,
wandering in a place
where love dissembles itself as landscape:
Where the hills
are the colours of a child’s eyes,
where my children are distances, horizons:
on the edge of sleep,
I can see the shore of Dublin Bay.
Its rocky sweep and its granite pier.
Is this, I say
how they must have seen it,
backing out on the mailboat at twilight,
on everything they had to leave?
And would love forever?
I imagine myself
at the landward rail of that boat
searching for the last sight of a hand.
I see myself
on the underworld side of that water,
the darkness coming in fast, saying
all the names I know for a lost land:
‘Ireland’. ‘Absence’. ‘Daughter’.
Below – The shore of Dublin Bay.
Below – Untitled; “Saint Cicada”; “Owen”; Untitled; “Manitou”; “Take That Back (Black #282).”