Wandering in Woodacre – 28 October 2020

Contemporary Russian Art – Tatiana Chepkasova

Below – “Desert series: Dune”; “Desert series: Tree”; “Desert series: Cracks”; “Desert series: Oasis”; “The boy with the dog.”

This Date in Literary History: Born 27 October 1940 – Maxine Hong Kingston, an American writer, novelist, author of “China Men,” and recipient of the National Book Award.

Some quotes from the work of Maxine Hong Kingston:

“In a time of destruction, create something: a poem, a parade, a community, a school, a vow, a moral principle; one peaceful moment.”
“Do the right thing by whoever crosses your path. Those coincidental people are your people.”
“Joy and life exist nowhere but the present.”
“The images of peace are ephemeral. The language of peace is subtle. The reasons for peace, the definitions of peace, the very idea of peace have to be invented, and invented again.”
“I am confirmed in my belief that war is utter destructive violent chaos. There is no ‘art,’ no ‘order(s),’ no ‘just war.’ No matter what the ideologies, wars are the same.”
“The difference between mad people and sane people… is that sane people have variety when they talk-story. Mad people have only one story that they talk over and over.”
“We’re all under the same sky and walk the same earth; we’re alive together during the same moment.”

Contemporary Italian Art – Paolo Borile: Part I of II.

Below – “The fortune teller”; “Erasmo – Faces”; “Olivia in her living room”; “Alesia – The toy car”; “The repetitions master”; “Fearless.”

This Date in Literary History: Born 27 October 1932 – Sylvia Plath, an American poet, novelist, and short story writer.

“Morning Song”
by Sylvia Plath

Love set you going like a fat gold watch.
The midwife slapped your footsoles, and your bald cry
Took its place among the elements.

Our voices echo, magnifying your arrival. New statue.
In a drafty museum, your nakedness
Shadows our safety. We stand round blankly as walls.

I’m no more your mother
Than the cloud that distills a mirror to reflect its own slow
Effacement at the wind’s hand.

All night your moth-breath
Flickers among the flat pink roses. I wake to listen:
A far sea moves in my ear.

One cry, and I stumble from bed, cow-heavy and floral
In my Victorian nightgown.
Your mouth opens clean as a cat’s. The window square

Whitens and swallows its dull stars. And now you try
Your handful of notes;
The clear vowels rise like balloons.

Contemporary Italian Art – Paolo Borile: Part II of II.

Below – “Summer inside”; “Tired rooster”; “La croisette”; “By the sea”; “Alba”; “Giulio sleeps.”


This Date in Literary History: Born 27 October 1914 – Dylan Thomas, a Welsh poet and playwright.

“Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night”
by Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieve it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Below – Birgit Huttemann-Holz: “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night”

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