How could anyone not delight in this stuff of spring?
I think it’d be impossible to see this tree, to take a good look at its magnificent blossoms (that come like a gift, year after year after year), and not be filled with something that feels an awful lot like hope and cheer.
It’s scrumptious, magical, perfection from the best designer we’ll ever know.
I’ll be honest. I haven’t yet watched a stitch of the Royal Wedding. But it’s not rocket science to know that hats play a starring role in pageantry, pomp and circumstance. (oooh – more P words…!)
Personally, I’m not a big wearer of hats ~ even though secretly, I kind of wish I were. They have a great way of adding personality and “pizzazz”. But let’s face it, you have to be pretty confident, or bold, (or royal), to wear some of the more flamboyant pieces… and then of course you have to be aware of bumping into things at head level, or the wind knocking it off your head, or not being able to take it off because of what it’s done to your hair.
Still, hats are special. Hats tell stories. Historical stories, personal stories, love stories, work stories. Sometimes they elicit stories the wearer may “want” to tell.
They’re also special simply by virtue of longevity. I’m pretty sure they’ve been around since dinosaurs roamed the earth ~ probably the first big invention, never mind about discovering fire ~ and they show no sign of stopping.
In the old, old, (really old), days, animal skins were all the rage. Since then, hat-wearing has evolved from being all about practicality to being (almost) all about fashion. That’s not to say people don’t wear hats for protection. But styles ~ the sheer abundance! ~ allow for all kinds of dazzling personal expression.
And they do serve a purpose. Hats provide a frolicking, fun playground for designers, a usefulness for farmers, cowboys and southern belles, and a perfect way to make an impressionable appearance at things like royal weddings.
PS: If you can’t get enough of “hats” lately, I recommend New Jersey’s Morris Museum exhibit: “On The Head and In The Hand: 200 Years of Hats and Purses”. The collection is lush, rich in history and fun to wander through.
“All our words are but crumbs that fall down from the feast of the mind.” ~ Kahlil Gibran
And what an incredibly rich feast lay in the mind of this poet/philosopher/artist!
Best loved for The Prophet ~ (considered his greatest achievement, translated in more than 20 languages, and of real note, has never been out of print since its first publication in 1923) ~ Kahlil Gibran’s essays, parables and poems are some of the most inspirational and cherished works ever written.
Rarely has one individual written consistently with the depth, sensitivity, and mysticism of Gibran. He has literally touched millions of hearts with extraordinarily beautiful – yet very accessible – prose. His words rise from the soul, easily intermingling divinity and humanity. His wisdom is truly timeless.
Gibran’s path started early; his gifts publicly recognized while still in his teens. But that recognition was not for his writings. First, he was an artist …
Around the age of 15 his drawings were published on book covers, and by 21 his works were being exhibited in Boston galleries. A few years later, he was in Paris, studying with Auguste Rodin.
I find this really fascinating in light of the fact that Gibran’s youth (in Lebanon) was one of poverty, with no formal education – and that after emigrating to the U.S. in 1895, his mother raised the family alone by peddling lace and linens.
So how did his opportunity change so profoundly? He went to public school ~ nothing special there. The key seems to be that at the same time he also went to a local art school, where his artwork caught the eye of his teachers. A couple of those teachers had significant associations within the Boston community, and were compelled to open some fateful, well-connected doors for the young Gibran that inevitably lead to his success.
The simple fact that he arrived in this country at the age of 12 and was already making an artistic imprint during his teen years, speaks volumes about his remarkable abilities. And I’m one of countless who are no doubt grateful for the teachers who perceived greatness in their midst and opened those doors.
Gibran was one of the world’s most brilliant minds. Though known today for his writings, his talents manifested with equal eloquence and exquisiteness in both the visual and verbal realms ~ with expressions that will continue, indefinitely, to uplift, guide and reach the innermost spaces of people’s hearts.
…………………………….
“His power came from some great reservoir of spiritual life else it could not have been so universal and so potent, but the majesty and beauty of the language with which he clothed it were all his own.” ~ Claude Bragdon
…………………………….
Kahlil Gibran was born on January 6, 1883 in Lebanon (then a Turkish province of Syria). He died on April 10, 1931, in New York City. If you’re interested in learning more, resources about his life abound – and if by chance you haven’t read his works, particularly “The Prophet”, I urge you to do so!
…………………………….
And they paid (one wonders how much) for this?
I was in Denver last week. Went to a Rockies game. It was fun. (It was also cold. I like the Rockies, but I don’t like cold.) Anyway, we’re sitting in our seats, donning our new (and very spiffy) Rockies caps, wrapped in blankets, waiting to be wowed by Ubaldo, the newly returning post-injury star pitcher, when my vision is distracted by a bright, bigger-than-life banner across the stands. The banner is advertising something about Qwest and Century Link. That’s fine, whatever ~ I don’t really care, and I focus back on the game.
But wait.
My eyes flit back to the bigger-than-life sign. Somehow it’s demanding my attention… and I find that I do care. In fact, I care so much I’m appalled. Because there it is, a gaping grammatical error in full baseball-stadium-sized color for all the world to see.
And I think, “they paid for this”. They actually paid, big bucks, for this. Do they think it’s right? Do they not speak the language? (Oh, and by the way, these are communication companies…) Are they kidding me? Is our increasingly short attention-spanned society and the need for sound bites and quick one-two punch lines really more valuable than saying it right? Are we overriding “well spoken” for the “grab ’em fast” mentality?
Now I’ll admit that in the scheme of life, this is not a deal breaker. It’s not a catastrophe. It’s not “important”. But it definitely offends my inner nerd, my sense of language and yes, my professionalism! It’s not okay.
Note to Qwest and Century Link: Call me. (saxton studio) I can do it better, correctly, AND probably for a quite a few less dollars than your ad agency charged. : )
proactively punctuating life with the plausible, powerful possibilities of positive thought presented through a plethora of “P’s”.
Sure, sometimes we just need a nap.
But … sometimes what we really need to do to recharge is to add a little pizzazz; a little flair. A pep to your step, some get-up-and-go spirit. A dash of red, a splash of purple, a pinch of pink, a lime-green wink. A great big bunch of wildflowers set on the table, a beaming smile when you feel a frown.
Put some strut in your salad, some punch in your pasta, panache on your pizza. Break out of the mold for an hour, a day, a year…
Let some sparkle light your world, welcome splatterings of zing and zeal and zest amongst your thoughts. Work the muscle in your attitude. Dance in your kitchen. Use new words. Paint with different colors.
A touch of pizzazz is feel-good stuff. So, go ahead and surprise yourself. Go ahead and shine.
I love it when a friend shares something good. And this is good!
Somehow I’d missed this piece from the New York Times. Missed the whole story. Apparently, back in October (2010) the Times posted an article called “Picture Books No Longer a Staple for Children”.
But kids and teachers know better, and they let the Times know it in a big, wonderful way.
Instigated by Lynne Sundstrom, a Teacher/Librarian at California’s Birch Lane Elementary School, February 2011 was designated “Love a Picture Book Month”.
The students (enrollment 600) read 4590 picture books that month, then sent a letter along with a signed, 15-foot scroll to the NY Times editor as proof that picture books not only matter, but are enjoyed and are essential for learning and development.
Bravo Ms. Sundstrom! And cheers to the Times for posting this testament to the students, families, school staff and all the fantastic picture books that make a lasting difference.
Not all your eggs, just a green one and a purple one. And not exactly in the basket, but on it (one on either side). And … okay, not really a basket, but a tote ~ spreading the message of peace.
Happy Easter!
© e.e.cummings / self-portrait
“Art is a mystery. A mystery is something immeasurable. In so far as every child and woman and man may be immeasurable, art is the mystery of every man and woman and child. In so far as a human being is an artist, skies and mountains and oceans and thunderbolts and butterflies are immeasurable; and art is every mystery of nature.”
from E. E. Cummings, A Miscellany Revised Edited by George Firmage. New York: October House, 1965.
…………………………….
While I’d never been a huge fan of E.E. Cummings, I adore the above quote. And he certainly earned a great deal of respect and recognition for his inventive poetry. He became, and remains, a household name in literature.
My admiration for his work has grown though, as I recently studied him a little more ~ and learned that he was also a painter. Judging by this self-portrait (and the two at the bottom of this essay), quite a good one, too.
Suddenly my view was broadened. He was no longer the writer of oddly punctuated poetic snippets we were relentlessly fed in school. He was more. He had true depth, and multiple means of expression. I’m newly impressed.
In this great little piece below, E.E. Cummings connects his painting with his poetry. An imaginary interview, it’s part wisdom, part amusement. Enjoy ~
…………………………….
Why do you paint?
For exactly the same reason I breathe.
That’s not an answer.
There isn’t any answer.
How long hasn’t there been any answer?
As long as I can remember.
And how long have you written?
As long as I can remember. I mean poetry.
So do I.
Tell me, doesn’t your painting interfere with your writing?
Quite the contrary: they love each other dearly.
They’re very different.
Very: one is painting and one is writing.
But your poems are rather hard to understand, whereas your paintings are so easy.
Easy?
Of course–you paint flowers and girls and sunsets; things that everybody understands.
I never met him.
Who?
Everybody.
Did you ever hear of nonrepresentational painting?
I am.
Pardon me?
I am a painter, and painting is nonrepresentational.
Not all painting.
No: housepainting is representational.
And what does a housepainter represent?
Ten dollars an hour.
In other words, you don’t want to be serious–
It takes two to be serious.
Well let me see…oh yes, one more question: where will you live after this war is over?
In China; as usual.
China? Of course.
Wherabouts in China?
Where a painter is a poet.
from E. E. Cummings, A Miscellany Revised. Edited by George Firmage, New York: October House, 1965.
…………………………….
© e.e.cummings / marion morehouse cummings in profile
© e.e. cummings / nasturtiums and marigolds
proactively punctuating life with the plausible, powerful possibilities of positive thought presented through a plethora of “P’s”.
Well before a harvest, you’ve got to tend the garden. Before tending, you’ve got to sow the seeds. Before sowing the seeds, you’ve got to prepare the soil.
Anything we want to grow ~ a business, a home, a lifestyle, an idea, a dream; heck, even a good day! ~ involves cultivating the soil. Yes, there’s the physical work. But first, before an ounce of physical effort, long before toiling under a hot sun, is the preparation that goes on in the garden of our mind.
To create the best environment for seeds to take root, it’s best to clear the space, remove debris, turn over our mental soil (our thoughts) and fertilize with nourishing attitudes.
Good preparation, you see, makes all the difference in yielding a fine crop.
The human mind is a minefield of creativity and brilliance.
A couple years ago, inspired by Donald Friedman’s acclaimed book “The Writer’s Brush: Paintings, Drawings, and Sculpture by Writers”, I began to look more at artists who write and writers who draw and/or paint ~ creative people who are known for excellence in one art form, but also have credibility in another. Sometimes the second is overshadowed, or completely overlooked, due to the prominence of the first, but it’s interesting to see dual talents exposed.
"Palm of Creativity" / © Patricia Saxton
I love the topic. But it got my thoughts bubbling. … As I see it, there have always been artists who cross mediums. Artists who write, writers who dance, dancers who sing, singers who paint, poets who play the saxophone.
It’s as if all these outlets arise from one great vat of creative expression.
So it makes sense to me that individual creativity, more often than not, spills from one medium over into another. It’s probably far less common to find a musician without a drop of interest for painting, or an artist with no stirrings of choreography running through their mind.
At the same time, it seems to be human nature to categorize or label: He’s a writer. She’s a dancer. He’s an artist. She’s a pianist. Just the way someone is a carpenter, or a doctor, or an accountant.
Yet none of us are one-dimensional. We arrive packaged with multi-faceted interests, talents, skills, propensities. I never understood why some feel the need to box people in to one “thing” or another, to say they “are this” or they “are that”. But to answer my own question, I suppose it helps frame the individual, helps us see them in some logical way.
In reality it isn’t always logical. There may well be strong leanings – creatively, mechanically, scientifically, etc. But there are also lawyers who paint, writers who fix cars and accountants who sculpt.
It starts early. There are “good kids” and troublemakers. Cheerleaders and jocks, geeks, nerds and rebels. Later your career choice defines you. Or your mate’s career choice. Or your kid’s career choice. There’s some real pigeon-holing that goes on. But we are all so much more!
We’re all fascinating, creative beings – whether writing, painting, solving crimes or tending the sick, cooking, singing, crunching numbers, building engines or raising livestock.
Sure, it’s flattering, that someone who writes and paints and draws is considered somehow unique. But I don’t agree that it’s so unusual ~ I believe that every single one of us has gifts that overlap. Maybe they’re not as easily defined, or maybe just not as romanticized, but they’re there ~ awesome, mysterious and immeasurable.