Wandering in Woodacre – 6 June 2021

Contemporary Spanish Art – Laura Tietjens

Below – “Sweet times”; “Glory”; “Cat song”; “Ethereal”; “Tattoo girl.”

This Date in Literary History: Born 6 June 1925 – Maxine Kumin, an American poet, novelist, essayist, and memoirist.

“After Love”
by Maxine Kumin

Afterward, the compromise.
Bodies resume their boundaries.

These legs, for instance, mine.
Your arms take you back in.

Spoons of our fingers, lips
admit their ownership.

The bedding yawns, a door
blows aimlessly ajar

and overhead, a plane
singsongs coming down.

Nothing is changed, except
there was a moment when

the wolf, the mongering wolf
who stands outside the self

lay lightly down, and slept.

Below – Henry Glover: “Held”

Contemporary Dutch Art – Axel Saffran

Below – “Glance I”; “Desert Woman”; “Sunlight I”; “Gaze II (Medusa)”; “Gaze II”; “Garden.”

This Date in Literary History: Born 6 June 1875 – Thomas Mann, a German novelist, short story writer, social critic, essayist, author of “The Magic Mountain” and “Death in Venice,” and recipient of the 1929 Nobel Prize in Literature.

Some quotes from the work of Thomas Mann:

“In books we never find anything but ourselves. Strangely enough, that always gives us great pleasure, and we say the author is a genius.”
“Tolerance becomes a crime when applied to evil.”
“War is only a cowardly escape from the problems of peace.”
“A harmful truth is better than a useful lie.”
“Art is the funnel, as it were, through which spirit is poured into life.”
“Technology and comfort – having those, people speak of culture, but do not have it.”
“He thought what a fine thing it was that people made music all over the world, even in the strangest settings – probably even on polar expeditions.”
“Laughter is a sunbeam of the soul.”

Contemporary Spanish Art – Jesus Manuel Moreno Montero

Below – “To the wedding marking”; “Does anyone know where we are going?’; “When balloons were still being sold”; “Tourist group”; “Strolling along the beach”: “Let’s go to the water!.”


This Date in Literary History: Died 6 June 1962 – Kenneth Rexroth, an American poet, essayist, and translator: Part I of III.

“Hojoki”
by Kenneth Rexroth

A thing unknown for years,
Rain falls heavily in June,
On the ripe cherries, and on
The half cut hay.
Above the glittering
Grey water of the inlet,
In the driving, light filled mist,
A blue heron
Catches mice in the green
And copper and citron swathes.
I walk on the rainy hills.
It is enough.


Contemporary Filipino Art – Michael Vincent Manalo

Below (photographs) – “Let’s go and sleep in the clouds tonight”; “The Unveiling II”; “Crescendo of Silence”; “Gentle Dreams of Going Home II”; “Early morning at Dajia”; “Contrast.”

This Date in Literary History: Died 6 June 1982 – Kenneth Rexroth, an American poet, essayist, and translator: Part II of III. Below are three of Rexroth’s translations of the work of Japanese poets.

Poem
by Shami Mansei (8th century)

This world of ours,
To what shall I compare it?
To the white wake of a boat
That rows away in the early dawn.

Poem
by Hitomaro (8th century)

A strange old man
Stops me,
Looking out of my deep mirror.

Poem
by Murasaki Shikibu (974-1031)

This life of ours would not cause you sorrow
if you thought of it as like
the mountain cherry blossoms
which bloom and fade in a day.

Below – Utagawa Kuniyoshi: From the Series “One Hundred Poems by One Hundred Poets: Poem by Empress Jito”

Contemporary French Art – Solveiga Chastres

Below – “Indochine”; “Windy skyline”; “Trocadero”; “Brooklyn view”; “My Paradise”; “Water Lilies.”


This Date in Literary History: Died 6 June 1982 – Kenneth Rexroth, an American poet, essayist, and translator: Part III of III. Below are three of Rexroth’s translations of the work of Chinese poets.

“Winter Dawn”
by Tu Fu (713-770)

The men and beasts of the zodiac
Have marched over us once more.
Green wine bottles and red lobster shells,
Both emptied, litter the table.
“Should auld acquaintance be forgot?” Each
Sits listening to his own thoughts,
And the sound of cars starting outside.
The birds in the eaves are restless,
Because of the noise and light. Soon now
In the winter dawn I will face
My fortieth year. Borne headlong
Towards the long shadows of sunset
By the headstrong, stubborn moments,
Life whirls past like drunken wildfire.

“Moon, Flowers, Man”
by Su Tung P’o (1036-1101)

I raise my cup and invite
The moon to come down from the
Sky. I hope she will accept
Me. I raise my cup and ask
The branches, heavy with flowers,
To drink with me. I wish them
Long life and promise never
To pick them. In company
With the moon and the flowers,
I get drunk, and none of us
Ever worries about good
Or bad. How many people
Can comprehend our joy? I
Have wine and moon and flowers.
Who else do I want for drinking companions?

“Married Love”
by Kuan Tao-Shen (1262-1319)

You and I
Have so much love,
That it
Burns like a fire,
In which we bake a lump of clay
Molded into a figure of you
And a figure of me.
Then we take both of them,
And break them into pieces,
And mix the pieces with water,
And mold again a figure of you,
And a figure of me.
I am in your clay.
You are in my clay.
In life we share a single quilt.
In death we will share one bed.

Below – Shen Zhou: “Poet on a Mountaintop”

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