"One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture
and, if possible, speak a few reasonable words." ~Goethe

~ also, if possible, to dwell in "a house where all's accustomed, ceremonious." ~Yeats

Wednesday, September 14, 2022

Kitchen Art

READING AT THE BREAKFAST TABLE
SOLITARY OR NOT
ACCUSTOMED, CEREMONIOUS
At Breakfast 1898
Lauritz Andersen Ring (1854 – 1933)

A few ~ more small prints lost in the diaspora.
I loved seeing these scattered around my kitchen:
contemplative coffee hours, shared teatimes,
and elegant household interiors.

The Morning Paper

Read one newspaper daily (the morning edition
is the best
for by evening you know that you at least
have lived through another day)
and let the disasters, the unbelievable
yet approved decisions
soak in.

I don't need to name the countries,
ours among them.

What keeps us from falling down, our faces
to the ground; ashamed, ashamed?


Mary Oliver (1935 - 2019)
from her book A Thousand Mornings
The Breakfast, 1911
William McGregor Paxton (1869 - 1941)

Every Morning

I read the papers,
I unfold them and examine them in the sunlight.
The way the red mortars, in photographs,
arc down into the neighborhoods
like stars, the way death
combs everything into a gray rubble before
the camera moves on. What
dark part of my soul
shivers: you don’t want to know more
about this. And then: you don’t know anything
unless you do. How the sleepers
wake and run to the cellars,
how the children scream, their tongues
trying to swim away—
how the morning itself appears
like a slow white rose
while the figures climb over the bubbled thresholds,
move among the smashed cars, the streets
where the clanging ambulances won’t
stop all day—death and death, messy death—
death as history, death as a habit—
how sometimes the camera pauses while a family
counts itself, and all of them are alive,
their mouths dry caves of wordlessness
in the smudged moons of their faces,
a craziness we have so far no name for—
all this I read in the papers,
in the sunlight,
I read with my cold, sharp eyes.


by Mary Oliver

Additional Favorites ~ All By Paxton
Tea Leaves, 1909

The House Maid, 1910
~ Previously on Kitti's List ~

The New Necklace, 1910

Next Fortnightly Post
Wednesday, September 28th

Between now and then, read
THE QUOTIDIAN KIT
my shorter, almost daily blog posts
www.dailykitticarriker.blogspot.com

Looking for a good book? Try
KITTI'S LIST
my running list of recent reading
www.kittislist.blogsppot.com

2 comments:

  1. Thanks friends, readers & sibs for these insightful observations RE "At Breakfast" (1898)
    Lauritz Andersen Ring (1854 – 1933)

    From Michael P. to me:
    Isn’t that a period piece pre suffrage? 😅 So is that what your Monday mornings are like?

    Yes, the actual peaceful color setting of your library which is fabulously highlighted by the amount natural light your home receives from the morning sun but just not the dress from 1919 and the obviously distressed woman looking at the paper to read if she was now allowed to vote 😅 That was my own personal interpretation 🤔😅
    *August 18, 1920, the 19th Amendment to the Constitution was finally ratified.
    Edited to say that I am happy the 19th was passed.

    Me to Michael:
    I like your interpretation and really appreciate your observation about living in a pre-suffrage era. Before now, I have always seen this newspaper reader as a peaceful subject; but, really, how happy can she be, living in a world where she cannot vote?
    At first I thought the Mary Oliver poem was too depressing to go along with this painting, but now, with your interpretation in mind, I think it is just right!

    Cyndee M. H.
    This picture makes me wonder—
    Is she just grabbing a few minutes before a busy work filled day or is she better off and has a servant to prepare breakfast and wash the dishes? Her dress is nice but not overly restrictive. Her hair is softly styled. There are nice things in the room but the table is not large. Will the kids be awake soon or are they off to school?

    Gene Z.
    We don't even own a tablecloth, or subscribe to a newspaper.

    My brother Dave:
    But you would still love to play dress-up in those clothes.

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  2. https://www.facebook.com/photo/?fbid=10225401574053768&set=a.1220677324535

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