Contemporary Serbian Art – Emma Pesti
Below – “Arctic sunset”; “Antarctica”; “Wounded landscape III”; “Blue mountain”; “Green night II”; “Glacier series IV.”
This Date in American History: Died 22 July 1869 – John A. Roebling, a German-American engineer who designed the Brooklyn Bridge.
from “The Bridge: To Brooklyn Bridge”
by Hart Crane
How many dawns, chill from his rippling rest
The seagull’s wings shall dip and pivot him,
Shedding white rings of tumult, building high
Over the chained bay waters Liberty—
Then, with inviolate curve, forsake our eyes
As apparitional as sails that cross
Some page of figures to be filed away;
—Till elevators drop us from our day …
I think of cinemas, panoramic sleights
With multitudes bent toward some flashing scene
Never disclosed, but hastened to again,
Foretold to other eyes on the same screen;
And Thee, across the harbor, silver paced
As though the sun took step of thee yet left
Some motion ever unspent in thy stride,—
Implicitly thy freedom staying thee!
Out of some subway scuttle, cell or loft
A bedlamite speeds to thy parapets,
Tilting there momently, shrill shirt ballooning,
A jest falls from the speechless caravan.
Down Wall, from girder into street noon leaks,
A rip-tooth of the sky’s acetylene;
All afternoon the cloud flown derricks turn …
Thy cables breathe the North Atlantic still.
And obscure as that heaven of the Jews,
Thy guerdon … Accolade thou dost bestow
Of anonymity time cannot raise:
Vibrant reprieve and pardon thou dost show.
O harp and altar, of the fury fused,
(How could mere toil align thy choiring strings!)
Terrific threshold of the prophet’s pledge,
Prayer of pariah, and the lover’s cry,
Again the traffic lights that skim thy swift
Unfractioned idiom, immaculate sigh of stars,
Beading thy path—condense eternity:
And we have seen night lifted in thine arms.
Under thy shadow by the piers I waited
Only in darkness is thy shadow clear.
The City’s fiery parcels all undone,
Already snow submerges an iron year …
O Sleepless as the river under thee,
Vaulting the sea, the prairies’ dreaming sod,
Unto us lowliest sometime sweep, descend
And of the curveship lend a myth to God.
Below – Tom Shropshire: “Brooklyn Bridge”
Below (photographs) – “Ford Tractor”; “Mrs. Franklin Goes for a ride”; “Bumper cars”; “Lights Out!”; “General Store at Bodie”; “Golden Gate Tower in the clouds.”
This Date in Literary History: Born 22 July 1932 – Tom Robbins, an award-winning American novelist and author of “Another Roadside Attraction,” “Even Cowgirls Get the Blues,” and “Still Life with Woodpecker.”
Some quotes from the work of Tom Robbins:
“Our lives are not as limited as we think they are; the world is a wonderfully weird place; consensual reality is significantly flawed; no institution can be trusted, but love does work; all things are possible; and we all could be happy and fulfilled if we only had the guts to be truly free and the wisdom to shrink our egos and quit taking ourselves so damn seriously.”
“When we’re incomplete, we’re always searching for somebody to complete us. When, after a few years or a few months of a relationship, we find that we’re still unfulfilled, we blame our partners and take up with somebody more promising. This can go on and on–series polygamy–until we admit that while a partner can add sweet dimensions to our lives, we, each of us, are responsible for our own fulfillment. Nobody else can provide it for us, and to believe otherwise is to delude ourselves dangerously and to program for eventual failure every relationship we enter.”
“There are two kinds of people in this world: Those who believe there are two kinds of people in this world and those who are smart enough to know better.”
“Curiosity, especially intellectual inquisitiveness, is what separates the truly alive from those who are merely going through the motions.”
“We waste time looking for the perfect lover, instead of creating the perfect love.”
“Disbelief in magic can force a poor soul into believing in government and business.”
“You should never hesitate to trade your cow for a handful of magic beans.”
“We are our own dragons as well as our own heroes, and we have to rescue ourselves from ourselves.”
“The highest function of love is that it makes the loved one a unique and irreplaceable being.”
“A sense of humor…is superior to any religion so far devised.”
“When two people meet and fall in love, there’s a sudden rush of magic. Magic is just naturally present then. We tend to feed on that gratuitous magic without striving to make any more. One day we wake up and find that the magic is gone. We hustle to get it back, but by then it’s usually too late, we’ve used it up. What we have to do is work like hell at making additional magic right from the start. It’s hard work, but if we can remember to do it, we greatly improve our chances of making love stay.”
“Albert Camus wrote that the only serious question is whether to kill yourself or not.
Tom Robbins wrote that the only serious question is whether time has a beginning and an end.
Camus clearly got up on the wrong side of bed, and Robbins must have forgotten to set the alarm.
There is only one serious question. And that is: Who knows how to make love stay?
Answer me that and I will tell you whether or not to kill yourself.”
“Who knows how to make love stay?
1. Tell love you are going to Junior’s Deli on Flatbush Avenue in Brooklyn to pick up a cheesecake, and if loves stays, it can have half. It will stay.
2. Tell love you want a momento of it and obtain a lock of its hair. Burn the hair in a dime-store incense burner with yin/yang symbols on three sides. Face southwest. Talk fast over the burning hair in a convincingly exotic language. Remove the ashes of the burnt hair and use them to paint a moustache on your face. Find love. Tell it you are someone new. It will stay.
3. Wake love up in the middle of the night. Tell it the world is on fire. Dash to the bedroom window and pee out of it. Casually return to bed and assure love that everything is going to be all right. Fall asleep. Love will be there in the morning.”
“It’s never too late to have a happy childhood.”
“In the haunted house of life, art is the only stair that doesn’t creak.”
Contemporary American Art – Yolanda Santa Cruz
Below – “Ain’t always easy, but is always worth it”; “State”; “The weightofyour absence”; “Not here”; “Leaving the city”; “The call.”
This Date in Literary History: Died 22 July 1967 – Carl Sandburg, an American poet, historian, and three-time recipient of the Pulitzer Prize.
by Carl Sandburg
The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.