Sentient in San Francisco – 7 June 2019

This Date in Art History: Died 7 June 1980 – Philip Guston, a Canadian-American painter.

Below – “The Young Mother”; Untitled (Cup); “Blue Water”;
“Sleeping”; “Moon.”

This Date in Literary History: Died 7 June 1980 – Henry Miller, an American novelist and essayist.

Some quotes from the work of Henry Miller:

“Life moves on, whether we act as cowards or heroes. Life has no other discipline to impose, if we would but realize it, than to accept life unquestioningly. Everything we shut our eyes to, everything we run away from, everything we deny, denigrate or despise, serves to defeat us in the end. What seems nasty, painful, evil, can become a source of beauty, joy, and strength, if faced with an open mind. Every moment is a golden one for him who has the vision to recognize it as such.”
“If there is to be any peace it will come through being, not having.”
“It is with the soul that we grasp the essence of another human being, not with the mind, nor even with the heart.”
“A book lying idle on a shelf is wasted ammunition.”
“To be silent the whole day long, see no newspaper, hear no radio, listen to no gossip, be thoroughly and completely lazy, thoroughly and completely indifferent to the fate of the world is the finest medicine a man can give himself.”
“It was only in my forties that I started feeling young.”
“We have been educated to such a fine – or dull – point that we are incapable of enjoying something new, something different, until we are first told what it’s all about. We don’t trust our five senses; we rely on our critics and educators, all of whom are failures in the realm of creation. In short, the blind lead the blind. It’s the democratic way. has demonstrated that he is master of everything – except his own nature.”
“The full and joyful acceptance of the worst in oneself may be the only sure way of transforming it.”
“Everyday we slaughter our finest impulses. That is why we get a heartache when we read the lines written by the hand of a master and recognize them as our own, as the tender shoots which we stifled because we lacked the faith to believe in our own powers, our own criterion of truth and beauty. Everyman, when he gets quiet, when he becomes desperately honest with himself, is capable of uttering profound truths.”
“To make living itself an art, that is the goal.”

Contemporary Italian Art – Stefania Ormas: Part I of II.

Below – “Rose”; “brazilian girl”; “Cuerpo de mujer.”

This Year in Literary History: Died 7 June 1967 – Dorothy Parker, an American poet, short story writer, critic, and satirist.

Some quotes from the work of Dorothy Parker:

“Of course I talk to myself. I like a good speaker, and I appreciate an intelligent audience.”
“If you don’t have anything nice to say, come sit by me.”
“The first thing I do in the morning is brush my teeth and sharpen my tongue.”
“Time may be a great healer, but it’s a lousy beautician.”
“I like to have a martini/Two at the very most/After three I’m under the table/After four I’m under my host.”
“The only dependable law of life – everything is always worse than you thought it was going to be.”
“The cure for boredom is curiosity. There is no cure for curiosity.
“If you have any young friends who aspire to become writers, the second-greatest favor you can do them is to present them with copies of The Elements of Style. The first-greatest, of course, is to shoot them now, while they’re happy.”
“Years are only garments, and you either wear them with style all your life, or else you go dowdy to the grave.”
“I’m not a writer with a drinking problem, I’m a drinker with a writing problem.”
“You can lead a horticulture, but you can’t make her think.”
“You can’t teach an old dogma new tricks.”
“If you wear a short enough skirt, the party will come to you.”
“I hate writing; I love having written.”
“A hangover is the wrath of grapes.”
“Q: What’s the difference between an enzyme and a hormone? A: You can’t hear an enzyme.”
“Every year, back comes Spring, with nasty little birds yapping their fool heads off and the ground all mucked up with plants.That would be a good thing for them to cut on my tombstone: Wherever she went, including here, it was against her better judgment.”

Contemporary Italian Art – Stefania Ormas: Part II of II.

Below – “The cat”; “Memorial Garden”“Annie”; “Brazilian indigenous.”

A Poem for Today

“Home Again, Home Again”
by Marilyn L. Taylor

The children are back, the children are back—
They’ve come to take refuge, exhale and unpack;
The marriage has faltered, the job has gone bad,
Come open the door for them, Mother and Dad.

The city apartment is leaky and cold,
The landlord lascivious, greedy and old—
The mattress is lumpy, the oven’s encrusted,
The freezer, the fan, and the toilet have rusted.

The company caved, the boss went broke,
The job and the love affair, all up in smoke.
The anguish of loneliness comes as a shock—
‘O heart in the doldrums, O heart in hock’.

And so they return with their piles of possessions,
Their terrified cats and their mournful expressions,
Reclaiming the bedrooms they had in their teens,
Clean towels, warm comforter, glass figurines.

Downstairs in the kitchen the father and mother
Don’t say a word, but they look at each other
As down from the hill comes Jill, comes Jack.
‘The children are back. The children are back’.

Contemporary Russian Art – Sayan Baigaliyev

Below – “It’s winter outside, but the kitchen is warm”; A room in Paris”; “Morning breakfast in the kitchen”; “Twilight”; “sunshine in the kitchen”; “Under the blue sky of Cappadocia.”


This Date in Literary History: Born 7 June 1954 – Louise Erdrich, an American novelist, poet, author of “The Round House,” and recipient of the 2012 National Book Award.

Some quotes from the work of Louise Erdrich:

“Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won’t either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart.”
“When we are young, the words are scattered all around us. As they are assembled by experience, so also are we, sentence by sentence, until the story takes shape.”
“What happens when you let an unsatisfactory present go on long enough? It becomes your entire history.”
“To sew is to pray. Men don’t understand this. They see the whole but they don’t see the stitches. They don’t see the speech of the creator in the work of the needle. We mend. We women turn things inside out and set things right. We salvage what we can of human garments and piece the rest into blankets. Sometimes our stitches stutter and slow. Only a woman’s eyes can tell. Other times, the tension in the stitches might be too tight because of tears, but only we know what emotion went into the making. Only women can hear the prayer.”
“We do know that no one gets wise enough to really understand the heart of another, though it is the task of our life to try.”
“Things which do not grow and change are dead things.”
“Our songs travel the earth. We sing to one another. Not a single note is ever lost and no song is original. They all come from the same place and go back to a time when only the stones howled.”
“Every so often something shatters like ice and we are in the river of our existence. We are aware.”
“Some people meet the way the sky meets the earth, inevitably, and there is no stopping or holding back their love. It exists in a finished world, beyond the reach of common sense.”
“Time is the water in which we live, and we breathe it like fish. … Time pours into us and then pours out again. In between the two pourings we live our destiny.”
“Cold sinks in, there to stay. And people, they’ll leave you, sure. There’s no return to what was and no way back. There’s just emptiness all around, and you in it, like singing up from the bottom of a well, like nothing else, until you harm yourself, until you are a mad dog biting yourself for sympathy. Because there is no relenting.”
“So what is wild? What is wilderness? What are dreams but an internal wilderness and what is desire but a wildness of the soul?”
“Ravens are the birds I’ll miss most when I die. If only the darkness into which we must look were composed of the black light of their limber intelligence. If only we did not have to die at all. Instead, become ravens.”

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