This Date in Art History: Died 21 October 2020 – Minnie Evams, an American artist.
Below – Untitled (Night/Day); Untitled (Asymmetrical floral design); Untitled (Faces); Untitled (Still Life with Vases); “Mirror Image Morning Glory”; Untitled.
A Poem for Today
“Elegy. with Oil in the Bilge”
by Patrick Phillips
By the time we got out on the water
the sun was so low, it wasn’t like water
but a field of gray snow that we plowed
in one endless white furrow of water
as I skirted the rocks and wrecked trawlers
and abandoned old jetties just under the water,
while you moaned in the bow, slick with fever,
whispering back to whatever the water
chattered and hissed through the hull—
until at last there were lights on the water
and I let the old Mercury rattle and sputter
its steaming gray rainbows out onto the water
as we drifted, at idle, for the last time in your life,
through that beloved, indifferent harbor.
Below – Alan Dixon: “Mystery”
Below – “The Woman of the Window”; “I do not know where I’m going”; “Two friends”; “Otra digestion interminable”; “An afternoon in the pool”; “Pool stories”; “Garden party.”
This Date in Literary History: Died 21 October 1969 – Jack Kerouac, an American novelist, poet, and author of “On the Road” and “The Dharma Bums.”
Some quotes from the work of Jack Kerouac:
“Because in the end, you won’t remember the time you spent working in the office or mowing your lawn. Climb that goddamn mountain.”
“Live, travel, adventure, bless, and don’t be sorry.”
“There was nowhere to go but everywhere, so just keep on rolling under the stars.”
“Our battered suitcases were piled on the sidewalk again; we had longer ways to go. But no matter, the road is life”
“I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till i drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.”
“A pain stabbed my heart, as it did every time I saw a girl I loved who was going the opposite direction in this too-big world.”
“I woke up as the sun was reddening; and that was the one distinct time in my life, the strangest moment of all, when I didn’t know who I was – I was far away from home, haunted and tired with travel, in a cheap hotel room I’d never seen, hearing the hiss of steam outside, and the creak of the old wood of the hotel, and footsteps upstairs, and all the sad sounds, and I looked at the cracked high ceiling and really didn’t know who I was for about fifteen strange seconds. I wasn’t scared; I was just somebody else, some stranger, and my whole life was a haunted life, the life of a ghost.”
“Nothing behind me, everything ahead of me, as is ever so on the road.”
Below – “Woman reading”; “The Lady of the parrot”; “Las tardes perdidas”; “reina de mi Corazon”; “Girls only just want to be fun”; “Tres mujeres.”
This Date in Literary History: Born 21 October 1929 – Ursula K. Le Guin, an award-winning American novelist, critic, poet, and author of “The Left Hand of Darkness,” best known for her speculative fiction, including science fiction and fantasy works: Part I of II.
Some quotes from the work of Ursula K. Le Guin:
Capitalism’s grow-or-die imperative stands radically at odds with ecology’s imperative of interdependence and limit. The two imperatives can no longer coexist with each other; nor can any society founded on the myth that they can be reconciled hope to survive. Either we will establish an ecological society or society will go under for everyone, irrespective of his or her status.
The creative adult is the child who has survived.
People who deny the existence of dragons are often eaten by dragons. From within.
You cannot buy the revolution. You cannot make the revolution. You can only be the revolution. It is in your spirit, or it is nowhere.
Change is freedom, change is life. It’s always easier not to think for oneself. Find a nice safe hierarchy and settle in. Don’t make changes, don’t risk disapproval, don’t upset your syndics. It’s always easiest to let yourself be governed. There’s a point, around age twenty, when you have to choose whether to be like everybody else the rest of your life, or to make a virtue of your peculiarities. Those who build walls are their own prisoners. I’m going to go fulfil my proper function in the social organism. I’m going to go unbuild walls.
Fantasy is not antirational, but pararational; not realistic but surrealistic, a heightening of reality. In Freud’s terminology, it employs primary not secondary process thinking. It employs archetypes which, as Jung warned us, are dangerous things. Fantasy is nearer to poetry, to mysticism, and to insanity than naturalistic fiction is. It is a wilderness, and those who go there should not feel too safe.
Contemporary Argentinean Art – Helena Wierzbicki
Below – “Soft And Warm”; “Gentle Girl”; “Mind And Soul”; “Corners Of Her Mind”; “Locked Up Inside”; “Blond Seated Girl.”
This Date in Literary History: Born 21 October 1929 – Ursula K. Le Guin, an award-winning American novelist, critic, poet, and author of “The Left Hand of Darkness,” best known for her speculative fiction, including science fiction and fantasy works: Part II of II.
By Ursula K. Le Guin
Years do odd things to identity.
What does it mean to say
I am that child in the photograph
at Kishamish in 1935?
Might as well say I am the shadow
of a leaf of the acacia tree
felled seventy years ago
moving on the page the child reads.
Might as well say I am the words she read
or the words I wrote in other years,
flicker of shade and sunlight
as the wind moves through the leaves.
Below – Clifford Palmer: “Wind Blowing Through The Trees”