I am amazed by the wonderful art kits and projects that are availble these days for children. We got our grandson something called Paint By Stickers. You can see one of his creations in the header photo. We also got him this amazing art kit:
It has water color pencils, pastels, charcoal pecils for sketching, and things I can’t even identify. He loves doing art projects. He set straight to work with it after opening it on Wednesday morning.
I sure can’t say the same for me either now or when I was a child. I despised art class and art projects in school. Sewing and embroidery made sense and I enjoyed them. I still do, but drawing? Forget it. My fingers don’t do what my brain tells it to do when I have an art implement in my hand. My hand writing is and always has been awful. I think it has something to do with a lack of patience.
One of my favorite college classes was Art History. I love other people’s art and learning about artists and their lives. .Just don’t make me create anything. I will leave that to the proficient.
What art projects did you like or not like as a child? How about now? Who are your favorite artists?
When Alice’s Restaurant Massacre by Arlo Guthrie was recorded in 1967, I was 11 years old. I remember it clearly and saved up to buy the record album pretty quickly. I couldn’t find any little clips, so this is the whole thing.
I loved folk music – it made me feel quite part of the times. Not quite rebellious – I didn’t have much to be rebellious about. My folks were quite liberal for the times; once when I was in junior high they excused me from school so I could protest against the war with the Webster College kids (college was between our house and the junior high). Although I don’t know if either of them ever listened to Alice’s Restaurant, I’m pretty sure at least my father would have thought it was quite funny.
In looking up the dates I discovered that the song, sometimes referred to as “talking blues” is also known as a “shaggy dog” story. Wikipedia defines it as “an extremely long-winded anecdote characterized by extensive narration of typically irrelevant incidents and terminated by an anticlimax. In other words, it is a long story that is intended to be amusing and that has an intentionally silly or meaningless ending.” Mark Twain, Gogol and Isaac Asimov were all cited as contributors to this “genre”. Who knew?
Arlo was adamant that he used the name Alice’s Restaurant because he liked it, not because the restaurant in the song was anything like the actual restaurant, owned by a friend of his, Alice Brock.
Alice was an artist, a restauranteur and a writer. She thought the song was funny but did not like the movie. She felt that she was wildly misrepresented in the movie and was fairly vocal about it, hence Arlos’ comments that it wasn’t HER restaurant in the song. One of the movie’s producers apparently made it possible for her to publish a cookbook.
As the years went by she came to appreciate how her role in the song and movie had somehow catapulted her into a 60s icon. Brock even recorded a series of custom introductions to Alice’s Restaurant for stations that regularly play the song on Thanksgiving. She and Arlo also combined their talents for a children’s book, Mooses Come Walking, and they remained friends until her death.
Alice passed away last Thursday, just a week from Thanksgiving, the holiday that inadvertently shoved her life into fame and recognition. I will have to play the whole Massacre tomorrow while I’m getting my vegetarian sourdough sage stuffing ready.
So….. the reason that I was lurking around Southdale on Tuesday was that I went to the movies!
This may not seem like an amazing circumstance to you, but the last time I went to the movies by myself was when Princess Bride was released. The fourth day in a row that I went to see it, I couldn’t convince anybody else to join me.
For most of the last thirty years, I’ve gone to the movies on average once a year. Almost always on Christmas Day with YA. Part of it is that I just don’t get worked up much for the movies that Hollywood has been pumping out for decades and the other part is I just don’t see the value of coughing up that much cash when the movie will be out in a year or so (although even less these days) and I can see it for free on TV. And when I can pause it if I need to hit the bathroom or refresh my drink.
Anyway… last Saturday at the book signing at Once Upon a Crime, as I was getting my books rung up, I noticed some bookmarks on the counter advertising Conclave, a movie that is currently out. I’ve seen the movie’s commercials and admire the main stars: Ralph Fiennes, Stanley Tucci, John Lithgow and Isabella Rossellini (boy does she remind me of her mom more and more). When I asked the gal behind the register if I could have a bookmark, I mentioned that I couldn’t wait to see the movie. She brightened up and said “just a minute” while she dug around in a drawer. Then she handed me a ticket for two free movie passes to Conclave! It could only be used during the day Monday-Friday, so being a carefree retiree, I headed out on my own.
The movie is fabulous. Visually stunning (Sistine Chapel!) and a very interesting look at the conclave process. A little of it I knew, but most was new to me. Ralph Fiennes gave a masterful performance as did the others. I particularly thought both John Lithgow and Lucian Msamati were outstanding. As you can imagine in a movie about the Roman Catholic conclave process, women didn’t feature as much as I would have enjoyed but Isabella Rossellini played her part with strength and resolve.
So five stars from me and I can’t wait for it to cycle to tv/cable so I can see it again.
When was the last time you were in an actual movie theatre? What did you see?
A couple of weeks ago, we hit the 512th anniversary of when the Sistine Chapel was first opened to the public for viewing; Michelangelo Buonarotti spent seven years working on that ceiling between 1508 and 1512.
The story of his work on the Chapel and his relationship with Pope Julius II is pretty well documented by Irving Stone’s The Agony & the Ecstasy, which came out in 1961. I haven’t read it but reviews have always said that it’s a fairly well done biography, using mostly primary sources including a lot of Michelangelo’s letters and writings.
I’ve seen the movie several times – it got hugely good press when it came out in `65. I think it portrays a pretty accurate look at the times although modern reviewers wish that the movie had been more “spicy” and suggest that Michelangelo’s life was more passionate than shown– that he wasn’t just a roboton with veins of paint (a great line by Rex Harrison in the movie – “What runs in Michelangelo’s veins is not blood – it’s paint”).
I’ve been lucky enough to visit the Sistine Chapel and it IS incredible. However I can’t help but wonder at how Michelangelo could have labored for seven years on the project. In fact, it turns out that a couple of decades later, he returned to work on The Last Judgments of Popes paintings. So technically MORE than seven years.
A project taking that long would make me crazy. My “all flowers, no grass” program in the front yard was a 20-year endeavor, but it was short spurts each year, nothing in comparison to hand painting an entire chapel. The front porch project took four years but except for the two LONG days that tim and I spent sand-blasting the old stucco off, it didn’t seem like an overwhelming to-do.
I’m not sure how I would keep up my motivation for such a big job that would take so long.
Continuing with a Halloween theme today. I notice that the people around town who are really into Halloween have their yards decorated, their inflatables inflated, and their pumpkins carved. Then there are the houses like ours that sport no pumpkins or decorations of any kind, We typically don’t do much for Halloween. In any event, I will be away in Dallas on the 31st, Husband will be home with the dog, and we have decided that he will close the blinds, leave the lights off, and not hand out any candy. It would be too hard with only one person at home to hand out candy and manage a hysterical terrier whenever someone came to the door. We will be Halloween Scrooges. This weekend I plan to bake frosted pumpkin cookies and brown-butter maple muffins for the children next door. They always come over to trick or treat, and we will give them the goodies on Sunday.
Last weekend we saw the most gruesome, yet remarkable Halloween decoration in the parking lot at the grocery store. A really rugged looking guy drove up in a red pickup with an enormous skeleton taking up the whole bed of the vehicle. The skeleton was seated, and yet its head and shoulders towered at least five feet over the roof of the truck. The feet stuck out over the back gate of the pickup bed, and there were dog skeletons lying across the main figure’s ankles, looking as though they were leaping. A smaller, human skeleton lay draped over the big skeleton’s arms. The whole tableau was held in place by thick orange straps. The guy was driving all around town with this. It could have been a float in a parade, if there was a Halloween parade in town. I would love to know what prompted him to do this.
What sorts of Halloween decorations are you seeing? Do you decorate for Halloween? What kind of tableau would you imagine constructing in the back of a pickup?
Working on a holiday project today involving pieces of tile, pieces of cardstock and a spray adhesive. I had everything set up on a big tray and headed to the back yard; I don’t like doing spray adhesive or sealant in the house.
It’s a new spray adhesive for me and as soon as I sprayed the first tile, I had it all over my hand (the hand holding the tile). In for a penny, in for a pound. Since I figured it was already too late, I kept going, doing all 24 of the tiles. If I’d used my brain I would have stopped after the first one, washed quickly and put on a plastic glove. We have plenty of them.
Instead I’ve now spent over an hour getting all the glue off. Hot water and soap, Quik Clean (a waterless cleaner), more hot water, pumice stone with soap, polish remover. And technically it’s not all off yet.
When was the last time you should have stopped, but didn’t?
I read the news yesterday that James Earl Jones passed away on Monday at the age of 93.
It turns out that I’ve seen a fair number of the films that he’s been in. Not a majority by any means – he did after all either appear or lend his voice to over 100 films/tv shows and had a rich background in theatre as well.
I saw his first two forays into film by luck of the draw. His first was in 1964 in Dr. Strangelove as Lt. Lothar Zogg, one of the pilots of the last bomber.
The second film was The Comedians in 1967, although it wasn’t very funny and I didn’t remember that he was the rebel doctor who got his throat slit 2/3 of the way through the movie. In fact, until The Great White Hope in 1970, I hadn’t even know his name and wouldn’t have been able to tell you he had been in the earlier movies. Now, like most everyone else, I hear his voice and know immediately who it is.
It’s interesting to me that JEJ stuttered as a child. I heard him say in an interview once “one of the hardest things in life is having words in your heart that you can’t utter.” I don’t remember if this was having to do with his stutter (apparently he didn’t speak for about 8 years as a kid) or more having to do with feeling the need to keep quiet in a contentious world.
He got over his stutter with the help of a teacher who encouraged him to read poetry. And read poetry he did. One of his biggest stage hits was as Othello. Here is a bit that he did for a White House Poetry event:
He seemed to be able to play just about any kind of role – Moor King, evil Jedi, doctor, teacher, not too bright police office, lion, wise legendary author – you name it.
I’ve made a list of films that he appeared in. Guess I have another rabbit hole for the next couple of weeks!
I struggled with the question of “why” this week. Since I broke the brush mower last week, (did I mention I broke it? I talked about it rattling, and the bolts coming loose, and then… I don’t know what happened, but it started to shake itself apart. I couldn’t see anything obviously wrong, and I just parked it and walked away. I gotta deal with other stuff for a while and then I’ll come back to it.)
Consequently I was mowing weeds with the lawnmower and was asking myself why I felt the need to mow these weeds. There are some places I can justify, like in the oat fields the waterways are full of tall grass and weeds and they make it a problem for swathing, they’re a problem for combining, and they are a problem for baling, so it makes sense to mow them. But then I get off in the pastures or field roads and yeah, there’s some weeds that it’s good to take down like thistles, buttonweeds, (velvet leaf), ragweed, and wild parsnip, but if it’s just grass, why am I mowing it?
The larger question of “why“ can be applied to illness, sicknesses, the political party of your choice, or any host of things.
So that’s what’s been on my mind.
Daughter and I also talked about making decisions and why that’s so hard sometimes. It’s a learned skill, isn’t it?
Earlier this week, I was a bit anxious because I should have already been cutting oats. I was anxious about how the swather was going to run, I was anxious about the weather, I was anxious about how the Oats would do, and how to get it hauled to the place in Iowa.
And let’s face it, I was scared. Scared the swather would break down, scared I wouldn’t be able to fix it, scared of just the whole thing. But eventually I put on my big boy pants, and started cutting oats. And yep, it quits after an hour and a half. It’s like it got a vapor lock or something. An hour later I can start it again and cut some more. And I’m working on a trucker, so we still just wait to see on the weather and how the oats does and it will all be OK, won’t it?
A few of the ducks were out one morning and having a good time in the taller grass, so the next morning we opened the fence and let them all out. Generally, that’s kind of how it works; They get out themselves and then we decide it’s OK to let them go. And they are having a really good time in the deep grass and finding bugs and they look very very happy. I know I counted 26 ducks one day and then there only seemed to be 24, and the next day I counted 26 again. I don’t know how that works.
The dogs cornered a raccoon up in a tree for the third time in about two weeks. They appear to be fairly small raccoons so they must be young. I suppose along the same lines of me wondering where the ducks go when they get freedom, some raccoon mother somewhere is wondering what becomes of her children when they venture out on their own someplace.
The show in Chatfield that I’m lighting is “SpongeBob SquarePants The Musical”.
You’re probably not familiar with SpongeBob, we are all too old to have seen it as kids, you might be aware of it from Mall of America, or grandchildren, or neighbors, and it’s just silly fun. I haven’t looked too hard for a message in this musical. (turns out there are some!) I’m just making big bright colors. The woman who is designing some of the scenery, Vicky, did some really cool things with pool noodles and expandable spray foam. The guys who built the structure run a welding and machine shop and they can build just about anything. (They can fix my brush mower too!) It’s not done the way I would do it as a “theater professional” but it is certainly good enough for a show.
Driving to Chatfield gives me 20 miles of country roads to see how the crops are doing. There are a couple different ways I take to get there but generally, I take the straight shot back home on Hwy 52. Especially when it’s dark.
I started working in Chatfield’s Potter Auditorium in 1987 and I built the sets there for about three years, then took a break for a long time before coming back to light a few more shows. I feel a deep connection to this place. The people are great to work with. It is a true community theater in every sense of the word. There will be a big potluck lunch on Sunday before we have our first dress rehearsal.
WHAT MESSAGE OR STORY FROM A SONG HAS ALWAYS STAYED WITH YOU?
Went for my eye exam last week. No changes so I decided this was a good time to invest my annual glasses allowance for a pair of prescription sunglasses.
Since I had such a good experience with Warby Parker last year, I headed over to the store again to ask about new shades. Now last year I was in and out of the store so fast that I barely had time to even look around (except when I was actually looking at the various glasses styles and even that didn’t take me too long). This year the store was hopping; I ended up waiting about 20 minutes after I checked in so I had a chance to take the place in.
First off, there are books above each alcove of frames… real titles but the spines are all monochromatic (all white over one alcove, all blue over another, etc.) so I’m guessing they are probably not the actual books. I could be wrong but I doubt it. Then I noticed their 100 word “all about us” statement printed on the wall. Each word is numbered. The funniest things were books of haiku on shelves under each alcove titled “Baby Pigeons”. Apparently at WPHQ they write haiku. They have them on the walls, in emails and in various correspondence and collected in a book. Here is the haiku that inspired the title of the book:
How come you never
See baby pigeons? I asked
“What?” said the dentist.
I also liked this one:
finish lip balm tube rather than just losing it? honor this moment
I didn’t ask if the books were for sale but I liked that WP apparently doesn’t take themselves too seriously. It did inspire me to write a haiku of my own on the way home:
It’s been five years since we lost our Little Jail Bird, Edith. I think of her often and whenever I tell someone about her, I say what a hero she is to me, that she made a courageous decision to go ahead with the risky surgery rather than live the rest of her life with her illness (her words). In her memory, I’m running her most iconic posting on the Trail.
Until last fall, I had never been to Banning State Park. I had driven by it dozens of time, because when I head up to my sister’s house, I always turn off 35W and take Highway 23 into town. I didn’t know much about Banning, but when I was looking for a day trip, it seemed to fit my needs perfectly.
First, I wanted a park where I could drive there and back in one day without getting too tired. Second, I wanted a park that didn’t involve driving several back roads, because I knew that I would be driving in the dark due to the shorter fall days and my night vision and sense of direction is bad enough that I would get lost unless I kind of knew where I was going. And third, I wanted a state park because I had a state park sticker and wanted to use it as much as possible to get my money’s worth out of it. Banning fit all of those qualifications. Plus it has a waterfall, which is a big plus in my book.
So, off I went, one sunny morning in October. When I arrived, I stopped at the visitor center to get maps and ask where the best spots were. I was so excited. It seems that often when I go north, I am early for the fall colors and often find myself driving home just a few days before “peak” and this time I was not too early! I said something about that to the woman at the desk (while trying to not jump and down in excitement) and she shook her head woefully and told me in a discouraging tone, “You’re going to see LOTS of brown out there.” Gee thanks, way to burst my bubble.
Of course, since I drove all the way up there, I figured I better go on the hike anyway even if I would see mostly brown. I drove to the parking area and when I stepped out of the car and looked up, I knew it was going to be a good day (see header photo).
I hiked all the way to the falls and back and shot lots of photos. It was an incredibly beautiful day: that clear, deep blue sky that you only seem to see on autumn days and – surprise! – lots of colorful leaves on the trees. It can be a challenge shooting in bright sunlight, but I was so overcome by the beauty of it all that I just took that in my stride. There was that wonderful northwoods smell in the air – pine trees and dead leaves. Nothing like it! and nothing else invigorates me like that does.
It was getting pretty cool and the sun was going down quickly by the time I was heading back on the trail but the golden evening light only made things more beautiful and the colors more intense. I went home pleasantly tired and very happy and glad that the woman’s prediction of “lots of brown” wasn’t true.
Any comments / reflections on any or your heros welcome
Trail Baboon 