"Department of the Absurd" and "Memorabilia"

This has to do with spell-check and the intervening "mind" of the computer which is ever trying to figure out what one is saying, or wants to say. But it also very much has to do with people talking to one another in letters: the results, all these years later, treasurable.

I was writing my daughter an email in which I said I'd found two such letters in my family history boxes, each written by a different aunt. One was sent to me by my Aunt Connie (actually a card, not a letter) and one was sent from my Aunt Renie to my mother. Each box in the stacks of boxes in my bedroom is titled with the names of different pairs of wedded couples going back in time, just a way to put interesting communications like these in some place where I know I can find them again.

The first is a card Connie sent me, in which she'd enclosed, typed on a piece of paper, a beautiful quote from George Eliot:

"Oh, the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person, having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words but to pour them all out, just as they are, chaff and grain together, knowing that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping and then, with the breath of kindness, blow the rest away."

In the card, Connie said she was sending it to me as that's how she felt about me...it's not hard to think that I would say the same to her. When I was a little child, I didn't know that once I was a grownup I would see things very much the way she did. I'm going to type below another excellent quote I found written on a scrap of paper among Connie's photos, clippings of poetry from the New Yorker, etc., all of which I keep in the box called "Connie & Larry".

This quote is Ambrose Bierce:

"History is an account,
  mostly false,
  of events,
  mostly unimportant,
  which are brought
        about by rulers,
  mostly knaves,
  and soldiers,
  mostly fools."

I don't see it as saying the soldiers are fools, but the rulers and knaves, definitely!

I typed it here exactly as she had written it on the piece of paper, with the spacing intact...I love it!

Here's where the absurd comes in:   in the email to my daughter, I'd said "Also found a very nice letter Renie wrote to Mom!"  But spellcheck changed "Renie" to "Renoir"!

In a minute, will tell what Renie's note to Mom said...

But first wanted to mention three earlier posts with more about the two aunts, and the Family History boxes...go to the bottom of blog and click on Earlier Posts until you find these dates and titles:


1.   My Aunt Connie & Adventure Magazine                        May 25, 2013


2.   Family History                                                                June 23, 2013


3.   Everything and its Opposite...                                        December 2, 2013



After providing something from Renie's note to Mom (and maybe Renoir's as well)...I will post photos of Connie and Renie...both were about the same age. I also found a lovely note Connie wrote to her sister (my mother) of which I will enjoy providing some excerpts (it was written during WW II.) I note that people seemed to write lots of frequent quick notes to others, the same way people email and text now...the stamps were I think 1 cent or 2 cents...perhaps the telephone not used as lavishly as now. (One of Connie's notes to Mom said something about taking the train out to Merrick, our town, on the coming Saturday.)

I must say I wish this were my job: to write this blog...like painting/drawing, it's a great pleasure and must be reward enough...but still, one can dream!

More coming shortly...

My cards with pictures and words, each speaking the same language...

Butterfly in Tones of Blue

This post will gradually show a small group of my greeting cards, each of which has, on the front, one of my watercolor paintings or an ink drawing, and, on the back, a small story that pertains to the painting. The stories are much like my blogposts but abbreviated, the aim of which is to fulfill the essence of the picture.

This is what is written on the back of the card:


  Two of its wings are the blue of the ocean in the clear days of
  summer, and two are the watery blue of the sky in spring. One
  would think a butterfly the most fragile of creatures, yet I heard
  that Monarch butterflies migrate like birds, and travel up to
  three thousand miles to the same winter roosts, often even the
  very same tree.

  It seems almost unbelievable, yet is convincing of the mysteri-
  ous intelligence embedded in all life.
                                                                                  - AKS



In the process of looking up things about blue butterflies, I found two wonderful articles, published at around the same time, in the New Yorker and the New York Times:

The New Yorker, "Nabokov's Blue Butterflies", written by Erin Overbey, January 26, 2011

The New York Times, "Nabokov's Theory On Butterfly Evolution is Vindicated", written by Carl Zimmer, January 25, 2011


The blue butterflies Nabokov studied are the Polyommatus blues. I somehow thought a blue butterfly something rarely seen...and was so glad to find these articles and the remarkable things Nabokov knew about them, such as their ability to travel the long distances referred to in my story on the back of the card.

Here are links to both the articles mentioned above:

http://www.newyorker.com/books/page-turner/nabokovs-blue-butterflies

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/02/01/science/01butterfly.html?emc=eta1

 

Sunset Flowers

 

 



 

 

 



Marbles...

Beginning with a photo just taken this morning, these are the significant underpinnings for a small bunch of plants or rootings that need repotting and are sitting and waiting, on various shelves, window sill and countertops of my kitchen.

The image appears in a post done earlier today on my Instagram site. Instagram is an institution I've come to love, not only as it affords a chance to say and show things one cares about, but it also enables one to read and see the same from others...many of them far far away geographically but often in tune with and enhancing one's own perceptions of life...images speaking very well among human beings!  On Instagram, I am @aksellon 

Words that accompanied this photo:

"I just bought some of my favorite marbles from Jordi's, the toy shop in Guilford...for repotting plants. I usually put them at the bottom of the soil in any pot without a drainage hole. You will see that they are all the clear type with a strand of color running through...I like their waterlike quality for the plant's roots to be near. When I got home with the tiny paper bag, I wanted to soak them a little bit in hot water before using and looked for a small bowl to put them in...this is the bowl I found, and note how there was just enough room in the bowl for the number of marbles I had bought! Apropos of washing the marbles, have always washed any flowerpot am going to re-use as well as any implements (scoops, plastic knives, etc.), anything that comes in contact with the roots, as heard once on Channel 13, said by their then gardening expert, a sort of Julia Child of houseplants, that one should even sterilize used terra cotta pots by putting them in the oven briefly, to kill off any fungi/plant diseases...will look up and find her name and supply it here up ahead."

I tried to find the name of that British gardener who had a regular show on Channel 13 during the Julia Child era, but wasn't able...however, I did find lots of information about my favorite gardening writer from the New York Times, Anne Raver. Below is a tiny excerpt the Times had in their listings of all her columns (many of which I saved over the years, clippings in my own "archives." ) Note that each of the Times' listings of her columns has a small paragraph like this below, or a caption, that you can click on and then read the whole article...there are lovely photos as well, but just the range of things she wrote about is marvelous. Here's the paragraph, which one can find in the New York Times archives and then read the whole column.

In The Garden

The Wisdom of the Trees

It was a chilly gray day when I left the New York Public Library at Fifth Avenue and 42nd Street and headed west on 42d against the wind. Usually under such circumstances, you keep your head down, but the trees pulled mine up. You can't help but look at those London plane trees, as you walk by Bryant Park. they, too, lean forward - all 200 of them - like rugged New Yorkers bending into the wind."

By ANNE RAVER

March 15, 1992

This, the first paragraph of that column, appears among the Times' listing of her articles from the 90s through 2015.  This was from March of 1992, when I was still in New York, and I think I must have saved this one, among many others!

The link to Anne Raver's "In The Garden" columns in the New York Times:

http://www.nytimes.com/by/anne-raver

Word substitutions (AKA: "Slips of the tongue")

I wanted to write something about a phenomenon which has occurred frequently in my life, instances of which I keep written down on scraps of paper kept in a drawer in my desk.

I will provide a list of them below, but wanted to explain that I have this trait (a kind of amusement the brain seems to be providing in an ongoing fashion, which I appreciate, like playing Scrabble with oneself, hoping it is not some sign of deterioration due to age, yet it all began for me when my children were little and asked me what was for dinner, and I said band aids (but meant hot dogs.) There is usually something about the substituted word or words that echoes the original: in this case, the two syllables, but also something else that ineffably connects the two. My wonderful Aunt Connie, who lived many a year with full brain power, herself fell into this same trait early on, and she and I often compared the absurdity of the substitutions, yet their somehow internal logic.

Connie had a lovely black cat named Cinder (and later two other cats) to whom she often spoke in a conversational fashion while in the kitchen, and telling the cat what she was making for breakfast, she said (for French toast), Scotch tape.

For the list of my own absurdities, first I should mention what inspired me to write this today. I have a great love for acorns...there is a collection of them out on my balcony railing, there are acorns scattered companionably on the dirt my houseplants reside in, and I frequently see ones outside that I just can't resist picking up and saving. Little perfections. The other day, walking down to my car in the row of garages where I live, I saw and picked up the tiniest little acorn I have ever seen...sap green and brown, and not only was it darling but it seemed to have a tiny bite taken out of it or just some minute imperfection making it even more appealing, and for a reason I can't comprehend, I stupidly tossed it to the side and continued on the path. I quickly thought better of it though, and stepped back to look where I'd tossed it...my neighbors were just going down the hill of the parking lot and saw me looking for something and rolled down the window and asked had I lost something? I confessed it was an acorn (this at a time when there were and are a million acorns everywhere around us, but I did say that as an artist, I wanted to find it again and draw it...I felt a little foolish if I hadn't given a good reason to find it again.) But it would not be found. I still now cast an eye out when I walk past that spot, but have not yet seen that same little guy. I have a couple more "tinies" up here in my apartment, and said to myself maybe I'll draw a couple of these "pumpkins", therein establishing the first time I will have made this particular substitution...and note that once said, the brain seems to think it amusing to keep it at the ready for all future mentionings of acorns (now pumpkins.)

Here's a somewhat embarrassing one I committed last year...I said to my daughter Liana, I will mail it to you Mandarin Orange (instead of Priority Mail.)  I have no idea where it came from but assume it has something to do with the number of syllables (like acorn = pumpkin.)

Here's the list:

For "keeping the soup refrigerated" = "keeping the soup hospitalized"

For "eyelashes" = "ashtrays"

For "I lost my cable connection" = "I lost my cablenut connection"

For "dandruff shampoo" = "garlic shampoo"

For "smoke alarm" = "hearing aid"

For "tape measure" = "weather vane"

I have more and will add to this list up ahead, but here are some other related things:

I heard a guy doing the weather on television who said "just after sunfall".*

And when recently looking for a pillow case in my linens chest of drawers, I said to myself: "I know there's a teakettle...a coffee pot...a placemat...a potholder...in this drawer."  That about sums up the syndrome...they all being domestic items having to do with the household world...four of them have three syllables, one has two, but they all are confreres in the world of domesticity!

Here are some photos of my acorn collection...

* Looking it up in the online Webster Merriam dictionary, I just learned that "sunfall" is a legitimate word...another way of saying "sunset". But it seems to me another indication of man's view of himself as at the center of the stage, so to speak.

Sophia Delza: T'ai Chi Ch'uan, Wu Style

And lastly, a fifth person who also spent a lifetime working on man's movement upon the earth, this time with her deep knowledge of the Chinese method called T'ai Chi Ch'uan.

In the paragraph below from her book, Sophia talks about the Western versus Eastern approach to physical activity:

"We in the West are apt to overdo in exercises and sports, believing that a hard, tense movement indicates strength and that power comes from the ability to expend energy violently. With T'ai Chi Ch'uan, energy can be controlled, strength balanced, vitality stabilized by using the body in such a way as not to strain the muscles, not to overactivate the heart, not to exert oneself excessively."

The book is Body & Mind in Harmony - T'ai Chi Ch'uan - An Ancient Chinese Way to Exercise to Achieve Health & Tranquility, which was published in 1961 by Cornerstone Library Publications, Simon & Schuster.

Pictures of the front and back covers of Body & Mind in Harmony - T'ai Chi Ch'uan:

I feel very lucky to have been a student in her classes in one of the studios at Carnegie Hall back in the 1960s. Here follows something about the classes, about her teaching, and the poetic nature of the 108 "forms" (or separate movements, each with their own choreography, so to speak) of T'ai Chi Ch'uan. She taught the Wu Style, the longer of the two styles of T'ai Chi Ch'uan (the other being the Yang Style.) Reading the paragraph above makes me wish I could find a T'ai Chi teacher here in Connecticut (specifically the Wu Style, which is the one I learned back then, and could presumably re-learn.) I've not kept up doing it, having some knee problems which may make it more difficult, as most of it is done with slightly bent knees. But it was and is a wonderful creation by ancient and brilliant people. Sophia had learned to do T'ai Chi in China from a master of the Wu Style, Ma Yueh-Liang, when she and her husband, A. Cook Glassgold, spent a goodly amount of time in China many years back.

I want to post some of the drawings (which I believe are her own ink drawings) that accompany her descriptions of each of the 108 forms of the Wu Style (another reason why I believe I can return to its practice, referring to her words as well as her drawings, for each of the forms...so long as my knees will cooperate!)  Also, I would like to mention something about the nature-imagery that is associated with each of the forms, such as one that I always liked, "Cloud Arms". There's so much wonderful writing she has done to explain the very nature of T'ai Chi, such as the following, one of the introductory chapters:
"The action and the person appear to be completely relaxed, because the activity is hidden inside, below the surface. The continuous flow of movement into movement, without straining, also contributes to this outer "soft" appearance. Actually, all the movements are done with controlled inner force. It is not the extent to which movement can go that matters; rather it is the quality in reserve that determines its softness, which means 'intrinsic-stored-up-within'. With this soft technique the body can be held loosely and circulation is, therefore, unrestricted."

Here is the obituary from the New York Times:

Sophia Delza Glassgold, 92, Dancer and Teacher

By JENNIFER DUNNING

Published: July 7, 1996

Sophia Delza Glassgold, a modern dancer and teacher and an expert in the ancient Chinese exercise form called tai chi, died on June 27 at Beth Israel Medical Center in Manhattan.

She was 92 and lived in Manhattan.

A graduate of Hunter College, she trained as a modern dancer and toured the United States performing Spanish and modern dance during the 1920's.

She also performed with her sister, Elizabeth, in the late 1920's at the Neighborhood Playhouse.

She lived in Shanghai from 1948 to 1951 and was the first American dancer to teach modern dance in Chinese theater and dance schools.

Ms. Delza also became an expert on Chinese theatrical dancing after studying action dance roles in the classical Chinese theater with Wang Fu-Ying and Cheng Chuan-Chien. She gave lectures and dance recitals on the material throughout the United States.

She founded the Delza School of Tai Chi Chuan at Carnegie Hall in 1954 and later taught at schools including the State University of New York at Purchase, the Actor's Studio and the University of Hawaii.

She also taught and lectured on tai chi in live appearances and on television, writing the first book in English on the subject.

Her writings on esthetics, dance and theater arts and exercise and health have been published in China, in Europe and in American journals that include Dance Observer, the Theater Drama Review and the Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism.

Ms. Delza also published a record album on teaching tai chi and wrote four books on tai chi and modern dance, including "The Tai Chi Chuan Experience," published this year by the State University of New York Press.

Ms. Delza's husband, A. Cook Glassgold, an official of the Joint Distribution Committee in Shanghai and the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Agency, died in 1985.

She is survived by her sister, of Manhattan.

.

Patricia Norris, The Norris Technique of Body Alignment

This is part four of what I'd begun writing in the posts about Milton Feher, Pauline Tish, and Harold Pessorilo...all proponents of the way man walks (or dances) on the earth...Patricia Norris is both dancer and expert in body alignment.

Patricia Norris was formerly Patsy Shibley, one of the two teachers at a very fine school of ballet in Long Island in the 1940s.

The founder of the school was Patsy's mother, Jeanne Shibley, an elegant blonde woman who taught ballet in the classical mode, even for the smallest children. She was able to demonstrate for us an incredible arched foot, the sight of which still resonates with me.  The Shibley School was in a small sunny studio in Freeport, N.Y., a town right next to ours on the south shore of Long Island. When she taught she wore, of course, the traditional leather Capezios, and a lovely long cotton quilted skirt (this I just remember suddenly) which was black and many colors pieced together. We'd started classes there when World War II was coming to a close, and the reason we were there was that a pediatrician had told my mother that my older sister had a problem with her feet, and that it could be remedied with ballet classes . My mother taught 5th grade in a school in Queens, New York, for many years, and always loved ballet and was pleasantly surprised to find a school had opened right near us in Freeport, NY, but to find one of such exceptional quality was, I guess, unexpected, and it went on to become a great part of our lives.

For one thing, my sister Cynthia, was found to have a great talent for ballet and applied herself very seriously to practicing at home every day. I was the more casual one about it until later. But each of us took part every year in June at the recital held in a local high school. The nature of the choreography, the costumes (the traditional tutus of ballet companies, handsewn by a marvelous costuming seamstress that Jeanne knew), and the lighting, all were in marvelous taste, and all came to the fore for me years later when I was at Pratt and in Pauline Tish's dance workshops.

Patsy, Jeanne's daughter, was a wonderful choreographer. She and Jeanne together evolved the production of the "white ballet" which culminated the recital every year, in which all the students participated. But Patsy also designed dances for all the smaller bits, where a solo was done, or a dance of three students, or six...and whatever the smaller dances were, they were framed around those particular students, coming out of their very natures, suited to their capabilities...so that nothing was standard and all was much more individually wrought.

Patsy was very petite, with a shining cap of black hair and beautiful eyes, and a wonderful dancer herself. When my sister and I both were in Mepham high school and there was a yearly event, (the "Pop Concert" it was called), we were always part of the many acts that performed. Every year my mother would ask Patsy to design us each a dance to whatever music Mr. Pritchard, the music director at the school suggested. He taught instruments and got those kids together every year into a great band that would play all the music at the Pop Concert. (When I watch School of Rock with Jack Black, I often think of how good Mepham's band was!) So we would bring the record of the piece over to Patsy and she would work with us, listening to the music together, starting a few steps, and then go on to knit, as it were, a dance. And when the performance would be done, it would be that same piece on the record but played live by the band. Of course there would be rehearsals, and dress rehearsals to iron out any rough spots, but I found it to be absolutely invigorating to dance to live music on a stage with a willing audience out there. This so different from my childhood years, when being on a stage for any reason was uncomfortable and embarrassing!  Patsy's choreography was great: one year, my dance was to Leonard Bernstein's New York, New York, "New York, New York, a helluva town. The Bronx is up but the Battery's down."

A picture from that performance appears below...

Recently, I was thinking about Patsy and Jeanne and decided to look on the computer and see if I could find something about Patsy's life now...I knew that she had moved to England years ago, but here follows some of the interesting information I discovered about her work there, and her books, one of which I have ordered and received with great pleasure via Amazon...

More to come shortly...