Complication and Plenitude

LONGING FOR FALL
ACCUSTOMED, CEREMONIOUS

The Dandelion Clock
William John Hennessy (1839 - 1917)

Dandelions . . . or Michaelmas Daisies?
And, in keeping with the observation of Michaelmas
on September 29th, I like to read the following as
"Late September" . . .

"Late August brought with it a longing for fall. By the end of the month the grass was brown, singed by days of heat and no rain. Mirella's impatiens, usually a bright pink and red mound on either side of the back doorstep, were small and lack luster. The air smelled strangely of basalt and car exhaust, and of marine life flung up on the beaches by the tide and cooked by the sun. . . . With so much wanting came all the promise and damage of the world" (295, 298)
*****************
" 'Listen to me, Howard. You and Mirella are adults. The lives of adults are complicated and generally somehow bad.'

" 'Thanks,' said Howard, surprised to find this observation reassuring. . . . somehow in the end everything in his life would still happen to him. (191)

"Mirella wondered if what she herself had been forgetting all this time, for years and years, was that none of this would last very long, that all of this, the terrible desirable, exhausting plenitude of her life -- the children, Howard, this house, her job -- all of her worries and failures and abilities and cares, all of it mattered so dearly, but so briefly, and that it was all in a way nearly over, even the parts of her life that were still to come." (301)

from A Perfect Arrangement
by Suzanne Berne
[see also Longly, Nanny, 2003, Houses]

Also by Hennessy . . . It's complicated . . .

The Pride of Dijon 1879
William John Hennessy (1839 - 1917)

Just when I think I may have finished my review of paintings that we enjoyed every day on the walls of our old Victorian house, I seem to recall a few more favorites. The two above by Hennessy were in our dining room; and the two below were in the kitchen. I don't know how we managed to fit them all in, but somehow we were always finding space in our ever - expanding design scheme of complication and plenitude!

Flower Pots 1887
Paul Cezanne (1839 - 1906)

Hollyhocks, 1911
Frederick Carl Frieseke (1874 - 1939)

Next Time: More Ladies in White Dresses
Previously: To See A Fine Picture
Going Barefoot
Kitchen Art
Next Fortnightly Post
Friday, October 14th

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

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

Going Barefoot

GOING BAREOOT OR WEARING SHOES:
WHICH IS MORE ACCUSTOMED, CEREMONIOUS?

Barefoot Prodigy (1963)
Gold Medal of Honor ~ National Arts Club of New York
By Martha Elizabeth Moore (1913 - 1982)

Two weeks ago, my fortnightly blog post featured various paintings and pictures that have been eliminated from our walls due to lack of space. The Barefoot Prodigy is yet another one, gone but not forgotten, and worthy of commemoration. This musically themed piece of art has been in my life for about as long as I can remember, as a 5 x7 cardboard print from the "Royale Academie Collection of Precious Miniatures," which I'm guessing was a way to teach kids about art. Apparently, the series contained numerous other prints, but this was the only one in our house, propped on the piano throughout my gradeschool and highschool years.

Somewhere along the way, two things happened: 1.) I bought a poster-sized print of The Barefoot Prodigy and had it framed; 2.) I retrieved the 5 x 7 print from my mother's house (during her downsizing) and stored it in my piano bench. Our own recent downsizing required us to part with the over-sized Prodigy, but luckily the smaller version from my childhood was on hand and is now once again propped on the piano, reminding us daily to practice our music with the earnestness of this serious, barefoot child.
******************
On another wall of our home hung the print of another barefoot child, Marc Chagall's daughter Ida:

Ida at the Window (1924)
Marc Chagall (1887 - 1985)

These two Chagall prints,
in pastel green and blue frames,
graced our guest room for many years.

Flowers in Mourillon (1926)
Marc Chagall (1887 - 1985)

More Barefoot Connections

1. Beloved coming of age novel
I Will Go Barefoot All Summer For You, Toby Bright
by Katie Letcher Lyle (1938 - 2016)

2. A couple of fabulous songs, Sweet Old World & You Will Be the Light, both of which include searching for truth and going barefoot, not necessarily related themes, but in this case, yes! Whenever I hear either one of these songs, I always think of the other and have to play them both.

You Will Be the Light
You'll never be the sun turning in the sky
And you won't be the moon above us on a moonlit night
And you won't be the stars in heaven
Although they burn so bright
But even on the deepest ocean
You will be the light

You may not always shine
As you go barefoot over stone
You might be so long together
Or you might walk alone
And you won't find that love comes easy
But that love is always right
So even when the dark clouds gather
You will be the light

And if you lose the part inside
When loves turns round on you
Leaving the past behind
Is knowing you'll do like you always do
Holding you blind, keeping you true

You'll never be the sun turning in the sky
And you won't be the moon above us on a moonlit night
And you won't be the stars in heaven
Although they burn so bright
But even on the deepest ocean
You will be the light

Songwriter: Donagh Long
Performed by: Dolly, Emmylou, Linda
Also by Dolores Keane
******************
This Sweet Old World
See what you lost when you left this world, this sweet old world
See what you lost when you left this world, this sweet old world
The breath from your own lips, the touch of fingertips
A sweet and tender kiss

The sound of a midnight train, wearing someone's ring
Someone calling your name
Somebody so warm cradled in your arm
Didn't you think you were worth anything

See what you lost when you left this world, this sweet old world
See what you lost when you left this world, this sweet old world

Millions of us in love, promises made good
Your own flesh and blood
Looking for some truth, dancing with no shoes
The beat, the rhythm, the blues
The pounding of your heart's drum together with another one

Didn't you think anyone loved you See what you lost when you left this world, this sweet old world . . .

Music & lyrics by Lucinda Williams
[ More about Lucinda]

3. Play ~ movie ~ television series
Barefoot in the Park
by Neil Simon (1927 - 2018)

Thanks to Nancy!
Next Fortnightly Post ~ Kitchen Art
Wednesday, September 14th

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

To See A Fine Picture

WALL ART FOR THE HOME
ACCUSTOMED, CEREMONIOUS

The Blue Vase (1887)
by Paul Cezanne (1839 - 1906)

"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
Moving dilemma: more large windows = lots more light but a lot less wall space. Bittersweet solution: time to bid farewell to some of our favorite wall art.

The deaccessioning began with the brass rubbings (thanks Robert) and the sheet music (thanks Town & Gown). Next came numerous frames and prints suitable for studio use (thanks Artists' Own) and a collection of musically themed paintings (thanks Daniel). The down - sizing continued, with the help of our artistic, literary, and creative friends who were all willing to adopt, re-envision, and repurpose our surplus objets d'art (thanks Beata, Katie, Katy).

Gone from my walls but never forgotten, these pictures (and so many others) will always have a spot in my heart and on my blog:

An Al Fresco Toilette (1889)
Luke Fildes (1843–1927)
[Along with Seurat]

The Cello Player (1896)
Thomas Eakins (1844 – 1916)

The Fifer (1866)
Edouard Manet (1832 – 1883)

Parisian Interior (1910)
Jozsef Rippl-Ronai (1861 – 1927)
&

An Old-Fashioned Garden (1915)
Anne Bremer (1868 – 1923)

One of Gerry's Long-Time Favs
Of Unknown Provenance

******************

A Tale from the Decameron (1916)
John William Waterhouse (1849 - 1917)

The Enchanted Garden (1916 - 17)
John William Waterhouse (1849 - 1917)

Apple Blossoms (1856- 59)
John Everett Millais (1829 - 1896)
[See also: "Love Is Not All"]

Monet Painting in His Garden at Argenteuil (1873)
Pierre-Auguste Renoir (1841 – 1919)

L’Envoi: Earth's Last Picture

When Earth’s last picture is painted, and the tubes are twisted and dried
When the oldest colors have faded, and the youngest critic has died,
We shall rest, and, faith, we shall need it—lie down for an aeon or two,
Till the Master of All Good Workers shall set us to work anew!

And those that were good will be happy: they shall sit in a golden chair;
They shall splash at a ten-league canvas with brushes of comet’s hair;
They shall find real saints to draw from—Magdalene, Peter, and Paul;
They shall work for an age at a sitting and never be tired at all!

And only the Master shall praise us, and only the Master shall blame;
And no one shall work for money, and no one shall work for fame;
But each for the joy of the working, and each, in our separate star,
Shall draw the Thing as we see It for the God of Things as They Are!
(1896)

by Rudyard Kipling (1865 - 1936)

******************
Next Fortnightly Post ~ Going Barefoot
Sunday, August 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

Great - Grandmother's Day Book

DAYS WHERE WE LIVE
ACCUSTOMED, CEREMONIOUS

"Sarah E. Lindsey
Niotaze, Kansas"

Days

What are days for?
Days are where we live.
They come, they wake us
Time and time over.
They are to be happy in:
Where can we live but days?

Ah, solving that question
Brings the priest and the doctor
In their long coats
Running over the fields.

Philip Larkin (1922 - 1985)

I recently discovered two miniature books (both about 3" x 4") amongst the papers of my Great - grandmother Sarah Elisabeth Hartman Lindsey: the 1920 date book above and the New England Primer below. The date book is blank up until the end of September.

"Gail called up from Kansas City
& wanted to know when I
was going up."

"First Frost
Country ~ Niotaze"

The next few entries, between 11 - 25 October, record Sarah's trip from Caney, Kansas, to Summersville, Missouri. A number of family members lived in Caney during the early 20th Century, but not until discovering this booklet did I know that Sarah's eldest son, Jim Lindsey (the brother of my Grandfather Paul, who was Sarah's youngest son) had ever lived in Summersville, 275 miles away.

Sarah keeps track of the weather (very rainy!) and the letters she has written to most of her other children: Paul (my grandpa!), Bea and Gail (who had already written to her); Wayne and Virginia (no letter for Mabel this time).

Nothing else for the rest of the year. However, on the the very back page, using the 1921 preview calendar, Sarah mentions returning to Peru (another small Kansas town, near Caney) from another trip to Summersville.

I wonder how Sarah made these long trips from Kansas to Missouri. Was it by train? Or by car? Years before, this woman had made her way out to Nebraska and back again, giving birth to my grandfather in a covered wagon; so she was no stranger to traveling around the wilderness!

When I need some perspective on my recent move from Indiana to Virginia, I think of Sarah's journey, in the 1880s, from Ohio to Indiana to Illinois to Nebraska, starting over each time, teaching school in each location. She lived on a homestead in a two - room house, enduring hardship, drought, near - starvation, the birth of nine children, the loss of a four - year - old daughter (before my grand-dad was born) to a horse fall accident, and their eventual relocation from Nebraska to Kansas. Sarah gave birth to my grandfather on this return trip in 1895, attended by her own father, who was a medical doctor of some kind and traveled with them.

Why did she do it all? For love, for adventure, for a better life -- and for me, her great - grand-daughter to have the opportunity, a century later, to move all around the country at will and without complaint! So I shall try to embrace that blessing and live up to her legacy, and -- of course! -- teach the whole story to my own granchildren -- Sarah's great - great - greats!

"Reached Peru, Kansas
From Summersville, Missouri
February 15, 1921"

In addition to Sarah's personal notations, the pre-printed note that concludes the date book is also of interest, particularly the phrase: "existing conditions this year.” Sounds like an early version of the supply chain issues with which we have all grown so familiar in the past couple of years! Could it be that Sarah got this booklet -- courtesy of Ritter Dental Mfg. Co. -- free from her dentist? Or was someone in the family practicing dentistry without a license? Perhaps not likely — but not impossible!

Best of all, on a page for telephone numbers, just before the maps section, Sarah has jotted down a recipe for oatmeal cookies:

******************
Near the back of the miniature New England Primer, Sarah has pinned in the obituary of her sister-in-law Anna (1852 — 1888). Anna was a younger sister of Sarah's husband (my great - grandfather) James Sankey Lindsey (1846 - 1921). How sad it is to read of her life cut so short by an illness that today may well have been successfully treated with antibiotics. Did Anna use this quaint little booklet for teaching her young students?

******************
Next Fortnightly Post
Sunday, August 14th

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

Hail Marie!

THE GUILLOTINE
ACCUSTOMED, CEREMONIOUS, GRUESOME

Guillotine Pendant Necklace

1.
"The theme of death and reversibility reappears in the ambivalent status of toys like the little guillotines that were sold in France during the time of the Revolution. In 1793 Goethe wrote to his mother in Frankfurt requesting that she buy a toy guillotine for his son, August. This was a request she refused, saying that the toy's maker should be put in stocks."

~ Susan Stewart
~ from On Longing: Narratives of the Miniature,
the Gigantic, the Souvenir, the Collection

2.
Marie Antoinette

Only fourteen, sent from Austria
Destined to be queen
When I married Louis, the Dauphin of France
Wonder if I’d stand a chance
Blonde and pretty, but no intimacy
Inability to do my duty – to produce an heir
Ridicule, I’ve had my share
And you know the rumors fly
“Madame Deficit!” “She’s such a cruel spendthrift!”
They don’t know me
I am just Marie

“Look at the Dauphine, she’s such a silly teen”
“She’s gambling all the Treasury!”
Is pleasure such a crime?
The finer things in life were always mine
Decadent, it’s true, but in my heart I’m blue
It fills me, this empty Marie

Shunned the nobility, all that ceremony
Built my rustic retreat at Petit Trianon
Just my friends and me
Losing popularity
Where did we go so wrong?
Louis wasn’t strong
Helping the colonies
And then our country suffered tragedy
Starvation and poverty
And I lost my baby, why?
In ’89 they stormed into Versailles and made me face them
On the balcony
End of monarchy, taken to Tuileries
To the border we would try to flee
Caught in the Varennes Flight
Discovered that my hair was shocked to white
Conciergerie, Prisoner 280
I’m only Citizen Marie

Louis tried, condemned
I knew this was the end
The Terror
Everyone against me
My son testified
They forced him to say lies
Found guilty for depravity
To mothers I do plea
much can you take away from me?
So to the guillotine I’ll ride with dignity
I’m your Queen
I am still Marie

~ by Lady Gaga

3.
And lastly, a few words to the wise from poet Jim Barnes:

"Bastille Day in France is a big joke, but they don't tell many that it is: the prisoners behind bars on that day were countable in single digits. The salute by the slipstreams (blue, white, red) of the low and roaring jets make it fun, though. Wish I could be there to pretend something really important happened that day.

"Be sure to say your Hail Maries, just in case!"

Marie Antoinette [1755-1793] in a Muslin Dress, 1783
by Élisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun (1755 - 1842)

Click to read more Bastille Day poems

Additional Bastille & Independence Day Posts
from previous years:

Bastille Day: Is There A World You Long To See?
Two Poems for Bastille Day
Eagles is Freedom
Carriker Barrel
Viva la Revolution
Hail Marie!

No More Forever
Andrea Dworkin
Liberté, égalité, fraternité!
If I Had a Hammer
Happy Bat - stille Day!

Indpendence Day 2009
Resident Alien
Red, White & Blue Pie
Who Needs Fireworks?!
May God Bless and Keep the Upstart Americans
Loving America the Al Franken Way
American Tune
Practice Pysanky, Practice Resurrection, Practice Revolution
I Pledge Allegiance

******************
Next Fortnightly Post
Thursday, July 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