Sentient in San Francisco – 2 September 2019

This Date in Art History: Born 2 September 1911 – Lill Tschudi, a Swiss painter.

Below – “Village Fair II”; “Concert II”; “Jazz Band”; “Waiters”; “Tierra Client”; “Nudes.”

This Date in Literary History: Died 2 September 1973 – J. R. R. Tolkien, an English novelist, short story writer, poet, critic, philologist, and author of “The Hobbit,” “The Lord of the Rings,” and “‘Beowulf’: The Monsters and the Critics” – a work that transformed the study of the poem.

Some quotes from the work of J. R. R. Tolkien:

“How do you move on? You move on when your heart finally understands that there is no turning back.”
“The greatest adventure is what lies ahead.
Today and tomorrow are yet to be said.
The chances, the changes are all yours to make.
The mold of your life is in your hands to break.”
“All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.”
“It simply isn’t an adventure worth telling if there aren’t any dragons.”
“It is no bad thing celebrating a simple life.”
“Haldir had gone on and was now climbing to the high flet. As Frodo prepared to follow him, he laid his hand upon the tree beside the ladder: never before had he been so suddenly and so keenly aware of the feel and texture of a tree’s skin and of the life within it. He felt a delight in wood and the touch of it, neither as forester nor as carpenter; it was the delight of the living tree itself.”
“There is some good in this world, and it’s worth fighting for.”
“Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens.”
“False hopes are more dangerous than fears.”
“There are truths, that are beyond us, transcendent truths, about beauty, truth, honor, etc. There are truths that man knows exist, but they cannot be seen – they are immaterial, but no less real, to us. It is only through the language of myth that we can speak of these truths.”
“All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.
“The greatest adventure is what lies ahead.”
“True education is a kind of never ending story — a matter of continual beginnings, of habitual fresh starts, of persistent newness.”

This Date in Art History: Died 2 September 1943 – Marsden Hartley, an American painter: Part I of II.

Below – “The Ice Hole”; “Autumn Color”; “Mt. Katahdin (Maine), Autumn – 2”; “Village”; “Landscape, New Mexico”; Untitled.

A Poem for Today

“On Swearing”
by Gary Dop

In Normandy, at Point Du Hoc,
where some Rangers died,
Dad pointed to an old man
20 feet closer to the edge than us,
asking if I could see
the medal the man held
like a rosary.
As we approached the cliff
the man’s swearing, each bulleted
syllable, sifted back
toward us in the ocean wind.
I turned away,
but my shoulder was held still
by my father’s hand,
and I looked up at him
as he looked at the man.

This Date in Art History: Died 2 September 1943 – Marsden Hartley, an American painter: Part II of II.

Below – “Still Life with Lemons”; “Storm Wave”; “New Mexico Recollections No. 7”; “Landscape with Single Cloud”; “The Cedar Hedge (Spring Breezes and Rains)”; “Taos, New Mexico.”

Musings in Summer: Patience Strong

“September is the month of maturity; the heaped basket and the garnered sheaf. It is the month of climax and completion. September! I never tire of turning it over and over in my mind. It has warmth, depth and colour. It glows like old amber.” (from “The Glory of the Garden”)

This Date in Art History: Died 2 September 2012 – Jack Boucher, an American photographer.

Below – “House between two casinos – Atlantic City, N.J.”; “Shaker South Family Barn, Harvard, Worcester County, MA.”; “Reading Room, Fordyce Bathhouse, Hot Springs, AR.”; “Pleasant Hill – Shaker Centre Family Trustees’ Office”; “Governor’s Mansion, Mississippi, Post-Preservation Stairs”; “Reef Bay Great House, St. John, U.S. Virgin Islands.”

This Date in Literary History: Died 2 September 1921 – Henry Austin Dobson, an English poet and critic.

“The Paradox of Time”
by Henry Austin Dobson

Time goes, you say? Ah no!
Alas, Time stays, we go;
Or else, were this not so,
What need to chain the hours,
For Youth were always ours?
Time goes, you say? – ah no!

Ours is the eyes’ deceit
Of men whose flying feet
Lead through some landscape low;
We pass, and think we see
The earth’s fixed surface flee:-
Alas, Time stays, – we go!

Once in the days of old,
Your locks were curling gold,
And mine had shamed the crow.
Now, in the self-same stage,
We’ve reached the silver age;
Time goes, you say? – ah no!

Once, when my voice was strong,
I filled the woods with song
To praise your ‘rose’ and ‘snow’;
My bird, that sang, is dead;
Where are your roses fled?
Alas, Time stays, – we go!

See, in what traversed ways,
What backward Fate delays
The hopes we used to know;
Where are our old desires?-
Ah, where those vanished fires?
Time goes, you say? – ah no!

How far, how far, O Sweet,
The past behind our feet
Lies in the even-glow!
Now, on the forward way,
Let us fold hands, and pray;
Alas, Time stays, – we go!

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