A woman on Wednesday … Still very wise!
When I began writing about women, each week I labeled them wise it had a certain ring especially on a Wednesday. I have for a while dropped the wise bit; simply because I am not able to judge such a fine attribute; I am far from wise; and will never gain such a title.
One lady I would like to honour this week is a previous Wise Woman; I enjoyed writing about her and while sorting out some books in my daughter’s bedroom I came across a lovely translation of Violeta Parra’s Hymn to life
Violeta Parra was born in Chile 1904. A folklorist and poet;she is without doubt one of the most resonant Latin American figures and one of the most important in Chilean popular culture. She also distinguished herself as a popular singer and author of lyrical works; among them Gracia al la vida (Hymn to life)
With the passing of time, Violeta Parra is being recognised for her creativity in the field of lyric. She died in 1967.
I thank life for so many gifts,
for my mind’s windows, which I open
see do clearly, black and white,
the starred depths of the sky
and the man I love, lost in the crowd
I thank life for so many gifts,
for my hearing that night and day
and all round records crickets,
canaries, hammers, turbines, barking,
squalls and my sweetheart’s tender voice.
I thank life for many gifts,
for sounds, the alphabet, and
the words I think and speak –
mother, friend, brother, and light
shining on the path of my lover’s soul.
I thank life for so many gifts,
for the tread of tired feet
wandering through cities and puddles,
beaches and deserts, mountains and plains.
your house, your street, and your garden.
I thank life for so many gifts,
for my heart which shakes its frame
as I see the fruits of the human brain,
and I face good so far from evil,
and I look into your deep clear eyes.
I thank life for so many gifts,
for laughter and tears, telling me
what luck and what fortune,
the two elements of my song
and your song – the same song,
and everyone’s song – my own.
I thank life for so many gifts.
The nature-loving indigenous people of South America were close to the heart of the Chilean poet and singer Violeta Parra. This Quechua Indian woman lives in what is now Peru but is descended from the Incas who inhabited the length of the Andes from Colombia in the north to Chile in the south.
Weekly Photo Challenge … Unusual
This might not appear unusual; believe me , this tidy tray of tea cups and saucers is a rare sight.
I work as a library assistant in a team of cataloguers, curators, archivists, librarians and more. Our aim is to bring order to the world, particularly its books, photographs, ephemera, data of all types, objects of all kinds.
We are pedantic, nitpicking, have eyes for detail, we can organise even the most unsightly collections of documents; but we cannot keep the kitchen tidy.
Monday … and yesterday
Yesterday, I went for a walk at dawn as usual; being prepared for cooler weather I laid my clothes the night before. It was the full Monty in reverse except gloves and I regretted that. Although it didn’t spoil my walk; I wasn’t able to turn the key in the lock when I returned home. Although there was a nip in in the air and a mist hung over the lake it had the look of a perfect summer’s morning with a blue and cloudless sky.
Sadly, I startled the heron so I wasn’t able to watch her or him as I had done previous weeks. It is my favoured walk and I was determined to get to the Harris Garden for a real look. As it was open to the public on Sunday afternoon I guessed it would be at its peak and possibly the last opportunity to see the garden in all its glory. I was right it was simply fabulous and other folk had I think had the same thoughts as me. The garden was almost singing with ‘early birds.’ It was no less beautiful but did explain why the heron, so patient other weeks was a little anxious.
So yesterdays walk in Whiteknights and Harris Garden was the best yet and I am very happy that I have become a little part of it for a while.
Silent Sunday
Saturday and an ode to summer
I know that Autumn begins later in September; but today marks the end of the summer for me. I return to my regular Yoga and Art classes that have been closed for the summer. Although I have continued to practice Yoga daily and my print making has gone on; I have missed the routine and camaraderie in both lessons. On one hand it seems like an age that we have been apart and on the other ‘Where has the time gone?
Back bends, watchful breath
for summer long colour twirls
autumn tis too soon.
Friday’s Library Snapshot … and a tea pot or two!
Two or three weeks ago I featured a book from the King Penguin Book Collection about the Isle of Wight. This was considered a favourite among the collection and I agree it is lovely. It brought back happy memories of holidays in the 1950s and 1960s. However I think Life in the an English Village with 16 lithographs by Edward Bawden and an introductory essay by Noel Carrington, must also be in the top ten.
I grew up in a village community; the illustrations are really quite reminiscent of the time even if a little ‘Lark Rise to Candleford’ I, as you know come from a riverside community; still rural but without the agriculture, the big house and the saddler. More yachts, moorings and the ship’s chandler.
Nonetheless the book is lovely, the coloured illustrations are from drawings made by the artist directly on to the lithographic zinc plates. They are therefore originals and not reproductions of drawings made on paper.
However, although proud of my roots; I have always had a yearning for a fine teapot, fine china on houseboat was not always an option. So the tea pot image is a firm favourite and the deciding factor when I bought a copy of the book for myself.
Alphabe Thursday … P is for Paper Weight
I thought paper weights were little more than trinkets used to save pieces of paper from being blown in the wind. While I don’t have a wind blowing through my home I haven’t found the need to use one, let alone collect them.
Until recently while reading about Feng Shui (this is another bit of ‘clutter’ I have not found the need for) and the way in which clear crystals are used to purify negative spirit and gather good energy. By displaying a clear crystal paperweight on my desk my mind will clear and I will be energised. Also, clear crystals can also release of stress and pressure. So what more could I ask?
So with interest aroused I discussed it with a friend, who bought me my first paperweight. I have bought one or two since and even found a couple in our collections here at the museum which are very nice.
So I since discovered that fine glass paperweights are widely produced, collected, and appreciated as works of art and are often exhibited in museums. They are made entirely of glass, often individually made and usually in limited editions. Originally from France in the mid 19 century but they became more popular in the 20th century.
I assume that since we have now a paper free environment they are no longer ‘used’ to hold down paper on a windy day.
Wednesday Woman … Sybil Andrews continued
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I began writing about Sybil Andrews a few weeks ago and even now she only 30 years old. Already she has resigned from Grosvenor Art College where she worked as a secretary and moved into a new Studio that was the Hammersmith School of Art. In June, 1929 Sybil with Claude Flight and the group associated with his methods showed the First Exhibition of British Linocuts at the Redfern Gallery. In 1933 Sybil Andrews joined with Cyril Powers again to hold their first major exhibition on monotypes. They also co-operated on a series of posters for the London Passenger Transport Board. These featured sporting events incorporating the same simplified and rhythmic designs which had been developed in the linocuts.
It was a very creative time for Sybil, she produced over forty colour blocks during the next 5 years before the World Two broke out.
The method of expressive simplification that she was eager to achieve was demonstrated in her works. When asked why her figures didn’t have faces, she explained that ‘If you cannot show emotion in the body then why bother sticking it on the face?’
While living and working in London, Sybil never forgot her links with Suffolk. After her mother died she continued to visit her youngest brother who was the curator of Moyse Hall Museum in Bury St Edmunds until 1939. Sybil remembers doing sketches from the his office on the upper floor and it suggested that the Market Place was viewed from there too.
Following the outbreak of war Sybil went work in a shipbuilding yard in Southampton Docks taking up her trade as a oxyacetylene welder learned in the first world war. It was here where she met Walter Morgan who she later married in 1943.
Unhappy in the depressed state of the national post-war economy the couple decided to emigrate to Canada; where they began a new life in a remote logging town on Vancouver Island. Sybil did not return to printing until 1951 when she had completed the renovation of their house.
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Weekly Photo Challenge … Sea
I grew up by the sea. My father, a boat builder in the late 1940s after the second world war, converted a landing craft into a houseboat on the Hamble River, on the south coast of England. I was a child of the river; which didn’t flow down from the hills and valleys of Hampshire. It was a tidal inlet that rose and fell twice daily; this too is unique. Due to the river’s proximity to the Isle of Wight, the tide comes and goes either end of the island. This unusual happening was one of the reasons why the nearby Southampton Docks became so huge and influential in world trade.
However, from a child’s point of view (and it’s parent) it meant that life fluctuated more quickly. The coming and going of the tide was like the breath on our lips; it never stopped, our life depended upon it. We learned from infants the dangers and the joys. The state of the tide, the direction and the strength of the wind and the moon was our guide, teacher and motivator. We learned to stay safe, was to be watchful and to be present. To be distracted was to put yourself and others at risk. Of course we lived our life, went to school, collected firewood, sailed and played but always we were watchful of the river (sea) as it came and went bringing and taking life from the vulnerable shoreline.
As you know I am faithful to the Postaday Challenge. While my blog is littered with images related to the aforementioned life on the river; I didn’t want to use them again,
I no longer live by the sea so I am not in a position to pop out and take a snap! I do live by the Thames, but sadly Reading is far beyond the tidal reaches. So while the river is vibrant and changeable the effect is not nearly so dramatic.
So, I emailed my dearest provider of ‘other’ images often seen when I am lost for resources on the Weekly Photo Challenge. My daughter as you know does lives conveniently by the sea in Rio. By return she sent me three pictures. One of which is perfect for this post; it was taken in the docks at Rio where the ferries come and go to Niteroi just a cross a huge inlet from the Atlantic Ocean.
The graffiti is part of a work created in this particular font and is much admired by locals and tourists. It is only seen at certain states of the tide and a perfect image for my post.
Monday … it is not Autumn yet!
Yesterday morning I was a little reluctant to get up and go for my customary summer stroll. I was thinking that perhaps Autumn had come and maybe a little too cold to venture out so soon. But venture I did; and it really was quite pleasant. I have learned since that Autumn is not due until the 26th September. This entitles me to a few more Sunday mornings and opportunities to watch for signs of the seasonal changes.
The air was cool, there was a little light cloud and a breeze; but from which direction? I could not tell.
Over the last few weeks I have taken a different path from my home and seen various routes to the north, south, east and west and almost exhausted possibilities. So yesterday I set off southeast towards Harris Garden past the Whiteknights Lake, I think it my favourite route so far. It is a nice mix of wild(ish) around the lake with some creatures and then the formal Harris Garden with it herbaceous borders; wonderful swathes of colour
I was able to sit for a while in the Autumn leaves among the cyclamen
Coat Hanger Doll's House 