• Tag Archives Poetry
  • Influence Peddlers

    Fall                                                Waning Autumn Moon

    What literature has influenced you the most?

    The Bible, various authors

    The Stranger, Albert Camus

    Fear and Trembling, Soren Kierkegaard

    Novels of Herman Hesse

    The Trial, Franz Kafka

    The Trilogy of Desire and Sister Carrie, Theodore Dreiser

    Metamorphoses, Ovid

    (temple of literature, Hanoi)

    Novels of Isaac Bashevis Singer

    Novels of Willa Cather

    Divine Comedy, Dante

    Dramas of Eugene O’Neill

    Poetry of Robert Frost

    Poetry of Rainer Marie Rilke

    Poetry of Wallace Stevens

    Chinese classical poetry

    Romance of the Three Kingdoms

    War and Peace, Leo Tolstoy

    The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald

    Lord of the Rings, JRR Tolkien

    The Mists of Avalon, Marion Zimmer Bradley

    A Glastonbury Romance, Copper Powys

    Short stories of Jorge Borges

    100 Years of Solitude, Gabriel Marcia Marquez

    Divine Comedy, John Milton

    Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

    Beowulf

    These are the ones I’ll admit to right now.


  • Chou Nu Er, Xin QiJi

    A final post for the China poetry series

    Chou Nu Er

    In days when I was young and didn’t know the taste of sorrow
    I like to climb the storied tower,
    I like to climb the storied tower;
    To write the latest odes I forced myself to tell of sorrow.

    Now that I understand the taste of sorrow altogether
    I would like to tell, but stop,
    I would like to tell, but stop;
    Instead I say, ‘What a cool day! Such lovely autumn weather!’


  • Will I Build A Computer?

    76  bar rises 29.76 6mph NW dew-point 51  Summer, pleasant and warm

    New Moon (Thunder Moon)

    A new head has been found for the red car.  Hopefully it will get placed on its automotive neck tomorrow and we will go back to two vehicles.  This is important with the rise of gas prices since our Tundra has a V-8 (may be an antique walking) whereas the Celica averaged 30-31 mph on the Alabama trip.  Co-ordination is not such a big deal for us, though that can matter.

    The computer has shut down on its own, without warning, twice already today. I bought the tools to crack the case, get inside and clean out the cooling fan, but I’ve hesitated due to a hyperactive June.  Now available time and increased urgency have moved closer to taking the step.  In the back of my mind, the fantasy part, I see myself building a computer from parts.  The tools I bought would serve that purpose as well.

    Ate lunch with Stefan at the Modern Cafe.  I had a lamburger and Stefan had a smorbord, pickled herring and beets.  Both were tasty.  We discussed his poetry and he feels I’m helping, so I’ll keep at it.

    He wants to start a support group for children of successful parents.   My hunch is it would be big hit.

    On the way home from the Modern (it’s in NE Minneapolis) I drove north of Anoka (really, west) to Anoka Feed and Seed where I picked up four bales of bedding straw.  I’ll use it to mulch the garden over the next few days.

    Now, a nap.


  • Warning! Radiation Hazard.

    10 59% 24% 3mph W bar30.28 steady  windchill6  Winter

                Waxing Crescent of the Winter Moon

    Doing research for an article on touring and poetry, I wandered through the galleries this morning seeking out objects with poetry written on them, objects inspired by particular pieces of poetry and objects with poets.   The list is long and varied, much longer than you would think at first blush.  This suggests an intimate connection between literature and art in our collection.  The linkage goes deeper when we move beyond poetry and look at objects with, say, a biblical theme or a sutra or a story from any of the rich mythological traditions.  This area turns my crank.

    The galleries have a wonderful emptiness on Mondays though there is activity.  In the Ukiyo-e gallery the scissor platform supported a cleaner taking care of a case.  In the Minnesota artists gallery crews from the registry officer had Ta-Coumba Aiken’s work down and had begun to prep the galleries for a new exhibit. The medieval gallery had lights and cameras as the staff photographer shot a madonna and child.  Most interesting, and a first time for me, was the sight of radiation hazard cones in the third floor gallery that connects the wings of the old McKim-White building with the newer building.

    What were they up to?  We have a statue on a pedestal someone thinks may have an incorrect orientation.  This guy usually sits next to the elevator on the third floor, though after a long search I could find no description or name for him.  Does he really look toward the sky, rather than the northern wall?  Inquiring minds want to know so x-rays are the order.

    With these exceptions, the galleries are empty and provide a kind of sanctuary filled with wonderful objects.  Sometimes I like to just browse, wait for an object to catch my eye or tickle some inner fancy, then spend time with it. 

    After this, over to Common Roots for a gathering of a group interested in literature and the arts.  Sounds good to me, though the meeting reminded me of the  many I sat through with community and church groups when I used to participate in such groups for pay.  It was fun nonetheless.


  • Oh! Blessed Rage for Order, Pale Ramon

    20  83%  28% 3mph N  bar29.94  falls  windchill17   Yuletide

                    Waning Gibbous Cold Moon

    “The most beautiful thing in the world is, of course, the world itself.” – Wallace Stevens

     excerpts from Wallace Stevens, “The Idea of Order at Key West”

    She sang beyond the genius of the sea.
    The water never formed to mind or voice,
    Like a body wholly body, fluttering
    Its empty sleeves; and yet its mimic motion
    Made constant cry, caused constantly a cry,
    That was not ours although we understood,
    Inhuman, of the veritable ocean…

    Ramon Fernandez, tell me, if you know,
    Why, when the singing ended and we turned
    Toward the town, tell why the glassy lights,
    The lights in the fishing boats at anchor there,
    As the night descended, tilting in the air,
    Mastered the night and portioned out the sea,
    Fixing emblazoned zones and fiery poles,
    Arranging, deepening, enchanting night.

    Oh! Blessed rage for order, pale Ramon,
    The maker’s rage to order words of the sea,
    Words of the fragrant portals, dimly-starred,
    And of ourselves and of our origins,
    In ghostlier demarcations, keener sounds.

    A tour today with blue t-shirted Minnetonka Explorers:  Maddie, Kaly, Ashley, Harry, Ryan, Nelson and Sophia (twins), Katie, Ellie, Lucy.  When asked what grade they were, Maddie said, “We’re all kindergartners!  And Katie is my moustache.”  She went on to explain that, though Katie is her elder by some months, she only comes up to Maddie’s upper lip and is therefore her mustache.  Giggles.

    We had a great time looking at paintings and installations.  We sang Jacob’s song along the way.  When asked where it was from Maddie said, “It was Jacob’s Colorful Dreamcoat. And we got to sit on stage for the whole performance.”

    We found bunnies and boats and radishes and ghosts and monsters in the Yves Tanguy, marveled at how much the cords looked like both waves and mountains in the installation with children’s portraits (and wondered where they plugged it in.)

    In Van Dyck’s Betrayal of Christ conversation focused on the man choking the monster in the lower left.  A fun group.


  • Art and Snow at the Beginning of Winter

                                jjwsolstice250-0.jpg 

    A Winter Solstice shot by Jim Johnson from the plains near Hecla, South Dakota

    18 73% 28% 0mph windroseWNW  bar 29.87 steady windchill17   Winter Solstice

                              Winter began at 12:08 AM this morning

    A bit of refinement on the arts and literature ideas from yesterday. The overarching idea is this:  some works of art included literature, usually poetry but not always.  In those instances it is clear that for the artist the written material had critical importance to the piece, otherwise, why include it?  In other instances, the image or sculpture gives form in print, painting or three-dimensions to a specific moment, either in story or in history.  Again, for the artist the textual base for the piece has to inform the work, so knowing the work, especially as it was known in the artist’s time and to the artist seems as important as understanding the piece itself.  Also, painting and sculpture and prints were never the only art form of their day; insteady they existed in an artistic milieux that not included fellow workers in the plastic arts but also poets, novelists, musicians, architects.  We often see reference to architecture in art history books, but very little reference to literature.  This last point becomes even more important as we move into the impressionist era and beyond when artists often wrote proclamations, began to intentionally blend their work with poetry and some moved into performance.

    These are ways in which literature is important to the field of art history and therefore our job as docents.  The use of other books, about artists and movements and particular works, is another intersection between art and literature.

    A light snow.  The snowblower moved out of the garage with its usual growl and eagerness to eat snow, then throw it.  Temperatures have begun to trend down again after a brief warmup.  I’ve done some additional moving, but I think today, certainly tomorrow will see the end of the bookcase/exercise equipment reshuffle.  That means I’m ready to move onto learning about hydrponic gardening and planning the vegetable gardens for next year.  Looking forward to it.