Wandering in Woodacre – 27 July 2020

This Date in Art History: Died 27 July 1942 – Karl Parsimagi, an Estonian painter.

Below – “Jeune fille a la fenêtre”; “Femme japonaise”; “Interior”; “Dans le parc”; “Interior”; “Nude.”

This Date in Literary History: Died 27 July 2017 – James Alan McPherson, an American short story writer, essayist, author of “Elbow Room,” and recipient of the Pulitzer Prize.

Two quotes from the work of James Alan McPherson:

“I think that love must be the ability to suspend one’s intelligence for the sake of something. At the basis of love therefore must live imagination.”
“Sometimes, in the night, it is expectant and therefore eager to be out. It has slept too long and is restless, fighting the force that keeps it patient. Years of internal slumber has drugged it, but not decisively, so that, once slightly touched, it starts and quivers and attempts to announce itself so strongly that, occasionally, a man’s mind will wake in his bed and ask itself: ‘Who is there?’”

Contemporary New Zealand Art – Peter Lambert: Part I of II

Below – “Woman With Cellphone On Van Gogh’s Cafe Terrace”; “Nantar”; “Midnight Espresso”; “European Tourists Walking on Thai Beach”; “Friday Night”; “Nude on Blue.”

This Date in Literary History: Born 27 July 1916 – Elizabeth Hardwick, an American novelist, short story writer, literary critic, and author of “Sleepless Nights.”

Some quotes from the work of Elizabeth Hardwick:

“The greatest gift is the passion for reading.
It is cheap, it consoles, it distracts, it excites,
it gives you knowledge of the world and experience of a wide kind.
It is a moral illumination.”
“They had created themselves together, and they always saw themselves, their youth, their love, their lost youth and lost love, their failures and memories, as a sort of living fiction.”
“All of her news was bad and so her talk was punctuated with ‘of course’ and ‘naturally’.”
“It is June. This is what I have decided to do with my life just now. I will do this work and lead this life, the one I am leading today. Each morning the blue clock and the crocheted bedspread, the table with the Phone, the books and magazines, the Times at the door.”
“The Brontë sisters have a renewed hold upon our imagination. They were gifted, well-educated, especially self-educated, and desperate. Their seriousness and poverty separated them forever from the interests and follies of respectable young girls. It was Charlotte’s goal to represent the plight of plain, poor, high-minded young women. Sometimes she gave them more rectitude and right thinking than we can easily endure, but she knew their vulnerability, the neglect they expected and received, the spiritual and psychological scars inflicted upon them, the way their frantic efforts were scarcely noticed, much less admired or condoned.”
“If only one knew what to remember or pretend to remember. Make a decision and what you want from the lost things will present itself. You can take it down like a can from a shelf. Perhaps.”

Contemporary New Zealand Art – Peter Lambert: Part II of II

Below – “Cameo”; “Americans on a Sunday Drive”; “People Walking on Blue and Gold”; “Three Red Delicious”; “Left off Cuba St.”; “Bush Track.”

This Dare in Literary History: Born 27 July 1939 – Michael Longley, an award-winning Northern Irish poet.

“The Leveret”
by Michael Longley

For my grandson, Benjamin

This is your first night in Carrigskeewaun.
The Owennadornaun is so full of rain
You arrived in Paddy Morrison’s tractor,
A bumpy approach in your father’s arms
To the cottage where, all of one year ago,
You were conceived, a fire-seed in the hearth.
Did you hear the wind in the fluffy chimney?
Do you hear the wind tonight, and the rain
And a shore bird calling from the mussel reefs?
Tomorrow I’ll introduce you to the sea,
Little hoplite. Have you been missing it?
I’ll park your chariot by the otters’ rock
And carry you over seaweed to the sea.
There’s a tufted duck on David’s lake
With her sootfall of hatchlings, pompoms
A day old and already learning to dive.
We may meet the stoat near the erratic
Boulder, a shrew in his mouth, or the merlin
Meadow-pipit-hunting. But don’t be afraid.
The leveret breakfasts under the fuchsia
Every morning, and we shall be watching.
I have picked wild flowers for you, scabious
And centaury in a jam-jar of water
That will bend and magnify the daylight.
This is your first night in Carrigskeewaun.

Below – Jerek Jeschke: “Leveret”; an 1830s watercolor of centaury;

This entry was posted in Art and Photography, Books, Movies, Music, and Television, Opinion. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply