a visit to NYC!

Hello again,

We just got back from our semi-annual trip to NJ and NYC, to see family and friends. In NYC, we stayed at the Washington Square Hotel, on Waverly Place: highly recommend! The staff were super nice and helpful, and it was fun to learn from them about the hotel’s art nouveau decor and the many people who’ve been its neighbors in New York history (including the Roosevelts). The hotel is worth a peek even if you don’t stay there.

Art nouveau chandelier, Washington Square Hotel, NYC

On our last morning, we walked up to one of my favorite places in the world. Come along!

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Another day, we took in the Surrealism exhibit currently on display at the Metropolitan Museum which was Fantastic, as was the Afrofuturist Room. The labels displayed alongside those exhibits are particularly noteworthy–kudos to the curators, for telling stories and giving life histories as well as providing provenance etc., as you’ll see below:

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Fabiola Jean-Louis, Haitian, b. 1978, Justice of Ezili (2021).

Arshile Gorky, Turkish, 1904-1948, Water of the Flowery Mill (1944).

Tarsila do Amaral, Brazilian, 1886-1973, City (The Street) (1929).

Also delightful were passing sights, like these:

— an Audre Lord poem in the subway,

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–and a sexy unicorn !

(Big Gay Ice Cream shop, 61 Grove Street, NYC)

Last but not least, my art shot, taken from our room at the hotel, which I may call Keeping Things in Hand…

or Still Life with Boots. Either way, that room was sooooo comfortable and quiet.

Great to have photos like these to imagine it again, now that we’re back under the cold wet drenching rain here in Seattle. (Note the sunny weather in NYC?? It was Amazing!)

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remember Thoreau

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I’m sick at heart about Amanda Gorman’s new modeling contract. https://people.com/style/amanda-gorman-signs-with-img-models/   It may seem unfair to thwart a young woman’s aspirations for fame and fortune, and she is certainly beautiful enough to grace the pages of fashion magazines and elite runways world-over. But to have discovered in her a poet of such transcendent grace and wisdom at such a young age has made her into a magical figure for us in this time, and we wish her to rise, like a goddess, to lead the way out of this uniquely American morass.

It is unfair, I repeat, to expect her to exert such independence at such a tender age (22 years old). Yet one can wish another future would be ahead for her. Will it be possible to remain undistracted by the tawdry parasitism of social media and the crap world of fashion advertising, and to go on creating original words of wisdom?  Seems unlikely.

But here’s hoping.

And for the rest of you writers out there, who are not receiving modeling contracts or other worldly fame for a poem, I append the following quotes from Walden, which no one can refute. I challenge you to keep on writing, remain focused, prove that words can still have lasting value, even in 2021.

Remember Thoreau.

“A written word is the choicest of relics. It is something at once more intimate with us and more universal than any other work of art. It is the work of art nearest to life itself. It may be translated into every language, and not only be read but actually breathed from all human lips…

When the illiterate and perhaps scornful trader has earned by enterprise and industry his coveted leisure and independence, and is admitted to the circles of wealth and fashion, he turns inevitably at last to those still higher but yet inaccessible circles of intellect and genius, and is sensible only of the imperfection of his culture and the vanity and insufficiency of all his riches, and further proves his good sense by the pains which he takes to secure for his children that intellectual culture whose want he so keenly feels…”

Henry David Thoreau, Walden and Civil Disobedience, ed. Michael Meyer (New York: Penguin, 1983),  147-148.  Original pub. 1854.

Photo of Inauguration poet Amanda Gorman, photographed in 2018, has signed with IMG Models.(Charles Sykes / Invision / Associated Press)

in honor of a certain special person … can you guess who?

“One showing is worth a hundred sayings” — Chinese proverb

I’m trying to be discreet but I’m so happy I could burst! and so I’m sharing a few images of the latest “Respect” quilt (no. 6) that shipped out today. It is heading to a person I’ve never met, but hope to some day…

May 2021 be the year when we all make a new friend.

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turning the tables, with a little help from Janelle Monáe

Hey everybody! Weird couple days, eh?

Since I’ve already expressed my view on the recent, lamentable events of the Trump regime, I’m ready to move on now. Got to cheer up. I began the day in the usual way.*

But today, before I sat down to work, I could not resist playing Janelle Monáe’s stirring anthem, “Turntables”— and sharing it here. I can’t be a pessimist and we can survive. You can survive. I LOVE THIS SONG! Click on that link. Get up out of that chair, listen to the song, look at the video, dance around, punch the air, punch the f****s, and get ready to move on, cause the tables bout to turn! 12 more days.

This song is totally in sync with “Respect” quilt no. 6 (above, in progress), which juxtaposes two vignettes in Sheila Bridges’ Harlem Toile de Jouy around the gorgeous silhouette of a proud Afro-wearing woman (designed by AphroChic), to show the power of art to change the world.

The square on the left features an elegant lady facing a maid holding a mirror. I added a gold crown on pink cotton, and a big bloom from a vintage bedsheet (thanks, Aunt Babe!) to lend an air of baroque excess to her coiffure. On the right there is the same scene minus the elegant lady, of the servant holding a mirror, but this one is printed on red. The mirror-holder is cut from the lady and juxtaposed to a strip of black and brown flames above a square of shiny red satin. Result? Instead of being a lady-in-waiting, the lady holding the mirror is now in charge. She’s an artist, a poet, mirroring the new reality of a world going up in flames.

Enjoy the inspiration, and get through the days as best you can, safely and kindly. We can do this!

* with “morning pages” and a conversation with great minds of my choice. This is a practice I began 23 weeks ago, inspired by J. Cameron’s book, The Artist’s Way. Well, she urges the three morning pages. I added the great minds to think with. Today, I read around and found gems in Twyla Tharp, The Creative Habit, Sir William Osler, Osler’s “Way of Life” and other Lectures, and Paul Kalanithi, When Breath Becomes Air. Wonderful stuff.

Later on, I read the New York Times, and lamented briefly, despondently, about our nation’s leadership. Then I moved on. Now I’m going back to work, back to my art, and the community of sisterly souls (at least in imagination).

Nikki Giovanni rules!

How happy I was to see Nikki Giovanni smiling from the pages of the New York Times yesterday! The article, by Elizabeth A. Harris, is a very nice tribute to her life, her feisty spirit and announces her new book of poetry, Make Me Rain, which sounds wonderful. Today I share three rules of life shared by Nikki Giovanni. They are all one really needs to know, to survive in this day and age in the USA:

1. The best thing you can do for yourself is to not pay attention [to other people’s opinions].
2. You can’t let people you don’t know decide who you are.
3. I’m not going to let the fact that I live in a nation with a bunch of fools make a fool out of me.

Thanks, Professor Giovanni. You rule! (And that’s not the only reason I am making a “Respect” quilt for you!)

Seattle Protests! face masks support ACLU and #BLM

 

These face masks celebrate the peaceful #Black Lives Matter protests which have marked 2020 in Seattle and ushered in hopes for a more equitable future.
– Available in Large, Adult, and Petite sizes
– Attached by black cotton ties printed with colorful peace symbols. Extra long ties for all hairstyles!
– The latest in retro-chic style (see the June 2020 Vogue!)
– Sold in sets of two masks
– 100% cotton front and back. The fronts are in bright orange and red batik, printed with a black silkscreen of the Seattle cityscape. The backs are made of tight-woven white cotton for superior protection.
– Created from New York Times pattern (April 1, 2020): page A15
– Lined with interfacing for a crisp look with no ironing required
– Include the adorable HGBG puppy dog logo
– Free shipping to anywhere in the USA.
– 50% of proceeds will be donated to the local arm of the ACLU, the American Civil Liberties Union, the nation’s premier civil rights and civil liberties organization. Clients will receive a copy of the receipt from the ACLU when this fund-raiser is over.
– Your purchase supports a Seattle small business and promotes fair and equal civil rights for all!

-Limited availability; only 25 will be made. Order today from the Honey Girl Books and Gifts Etsy store.

Why? Because Black Lives Matter.

P.S. Wonder who that handsome smiling man is, in the background on the right? It’s Langston Hughes (1901-1967): a great African-American activist and writer, and judging from the touching voice of his poems, a beautiful human being.  Listen to him recite “I, Too Sing America.”

day 77, just getting by, with Mallarmé

Hi anybody,

So much turmoil and fear everywhere. Anxiety courses through my veins and it is only 9:02 am. No wisdom to share today.  Just “same as day 73, and every day since.” If I can help you, please contact me. If not, know I’m feeling the pain too. It’s a mute solidarity of misery and fear. But we can still hope for a better tomorrow. Or even a better 9:15am!  On that note, I’m going to go for a walk.  Here is a bit of poetry from Mallarmé–an excellent companion for bleak moments–to capture the angst and desire to flee from one’s own mind:

La chair est triste, hélas ! et j’ai lu tous les livres.
Fuir ! là-bas fuir! Je sens que des oiseaux sont ivres
D’être parmi l’écume inconnue et les cieux !

— “Brise marine” by Stéphane Mallarmé (1842-1898)

And the gorgeous translation by my friend Henry Weinfield:

Sea Breeze

The flesh is sad, alas, and there’s nothing but words!

To take flight, far off! I sense that somewhere the birds

Are drunk to be amid strange spray and skies.

— Stéphane Mallarmé, Collected Poems, trans. by Henry Weinfield (Berkeley: Univ. of California Press, 1994, 2011), p. 21.

Yesterday’s production of face masks:

day 57, how a mysterious necklace led to Baudelaire

Hello!

My morning walk took me on an unexpectedly southeastern route today, when I arrived at a corner, saw the sun, and turned abruptly to follow it. The warmth felt so good! That led across a bridge where I glimpsed this metaphor of change—a boat passing by—then to a park, site of the street art I captured a while back. It’s gone! All that is left are a few scraps of black paper. (We’ll have to just keep trusting the flux by ourselves, I guess.)

 

Shortly afterwards, it was while passing by a grocery store that I saw it: a mysterious black velvet necklace, elaborately jeweled in gold beads and embroidery.

Like a sunglass-wearing magpie, I stood transfixed, walked all around it, and poked it with my toe. In any other time, I would have picked it up, at least. (I might even have taken it home, washed it, taken out the seams, and stitched it into a new wall-hanging!) The temptation was great.

But no…

Instead I took a picture, and left it behind. But my mind took flight… into memories of Baudelaire. For you and me both, here are a few lines to share the pleasure, from “La Chevelure.” They show how an ordinary thing—hair—inspired the poet to conjure up the mysterious beauties of womanhood …  (English translation below)

“La Chevelure”

O toison, moutonnant jusque sur l’encolure !

O boucles ! O parfum chargé de nonchaloir !

Extase ! Pour peupler ce soir l’alcôve obscure

Des souvenirs dormant dans cette chevelure,

Je la veux agiter dans l’air comme un mouchoir !

 

La langoureuse Asie et la brûlante Afrique,

Tout un monde lointain, absent, presque défunt,

Vit dans tes profondeurs, forêt aromatique !

Comme d’autres esprits voguent sur la musique,

Le mien, ô mon amour ! nage sur ton parfum.

 

…  Fortes tresses, soyez la houle qui m’enlève !

 

“The Head of Hair”

 

Ecstatic fleece that ripples to your nape

And reeks of negligence in every curl!

To people my dim cubicle tonight

With memories shrouded in that head of hair,

I’d have it flutter like a handkerchief!

 

For torpid Asia, torrid Africa

–the wilderness I thought a world away—

Survive at the heart of this dark continent…

As other souls set sail to music, mine,

O my love! Embarks on your redolent hair.

 

Take me, tousled current…

Charles Baudelaire, The Flowers of Evil / Les Fleurs du mal, trans. Richard Howard, (Boston: David R. Godine, 1982), 30, 208.

from the sublime to the banal, here is yesterday’s mask production:

Day 56, it’s painful, but it’s ours

Rainy day, gloomy outlook, horrifically alarming news… on a day like today it is hard to find the energy for… well, anything. Luckily, we have Dorothy Parker to the rescue!

Here’s a droll little poem about why life is better than the alternative. Poet Dorothy Parker (1893-1967) ironically called it “Résumé”—which could mean two things: 1) a noun: a “résumé” is a summary of knowledge or experience, or 2) a verb in the past tense, “resumed” means kept going, recommenced, restarted (what we hope our “normal” pre-Covid 19 lives will do some day).

Whatever it means, let’s hope this poem gives you a smile too.

Résumé

Razors pain you;

Rivers are damp;

Acids stain you;

And drugs cause cramp.

Guns aren’t lawful;

Nooses give;

Gas smells awful;

You might as well live.

— Dorothy Parker, “Résumé” (1925) in The Best of Dorothy Parker. Illus. Helen Smithson. London: Folio Society, 1995.

 

And yesterday’s mask production, fyi:

day 54, fog (by Sandburg) seen in Seattle

Fog

BY CARL SANDBURG

The fog comes

on little cat feet.

It sits looking

over harbor and city

on silent haunches

and then moves on.

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Foggy city images, from this morning’s walk:

And yesterday’s mask production, fyi: