tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-48935775967332697432024-03-13T23:15:04.598-07:00slopoet tells allslopoethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02776866768826145757noreply@blogger.comBlogger76125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4893577596733269743.post-7167612921525729732023-06-15T20:27:00.002-07:002023-06-15T20:27:50.216-07:00Springtime and a Lowland Fling<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3iHc5_MeCLmOJyzP-mphZkN9CeWHtja2p6yhoBQcOd3qDAGOVdHhs2pfX7E36AjiveEPnP11wtEhgGIAACrpslYM3ojT1_RlFyoJiERlveJQVaxtezQbdlIq-WETxxORlXKV14RcsQnglU-6Y6smpLHLQDGAfW_R6jSB-XLiGk0xEZ3RWfwJDdCwP/s4897/_68A3182.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3266" data-original-width="4897" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3iHc5_MeCLmOJyzP-mphZkN9CeWHtja2p6yhoBQcOd3qDAGOVdHhs2pfX7E36AjiveEPnP11wtEhgGIAACrpslYM3ojT1_RlFyoJiERlveJQVaxtezQbdlIq-WETxxORlXKV14RcsQnglU-6Y6smpLHLQDGAfW_R6jSB-XLiGk0xEZ3RWfwJDdCwP/s320/_68A3182.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Word reached us in mid-March that Tyler and Kathi had tied the knot in Denmark, and photos came showing their lovely wedding in a lighthouse, just the two of them, so romantic. <p></p><p>In April my friend Beth and I took off north in her car. She dropped me off in Princeton so I could do some work with my research buddies George and Dory in Princeton, at Rutgers, and later in Newark and NYC. Then I took the Metro North up to Milford where Beth put me up in the cottage behind her old home (now belonging to new owners). We walked on the beach and explored Milford, and then the next day I showed her my favorite places: the Trolley Trail in Branford, Stony Creek, Chaffinch Island Park, and the Foote-Ward cemetery. She also got to meet my friends Gordy and Andrea, and Lois back in New Jersey.</p><p>Back at BayWoods I was running for a seat on the Board of Directors. In the first week of May I learned I had won, joining two incumbents. So this will add a load to my life at BayWoods, we shall see what transpires. In mid-May Bill and I took off on our long-awaited trip to Scotland and England. We flew to London where the first night we ate dinner at our favorite restaurant, Margaux, on the Old Brompton Road. The train ride to Edinburgh was quite lovely, especially along the coast. We finally arrived at North Berwick, home of our friend Dave Berry, who had invited us and myriad other friends for what he called A Lowland Fling. We had a great room overlooking the High Street. There was a welcome dinner, a city walking tour led by Dave, and a wonderful party Saturday evening at the local pub, where Dave played </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHGpzK-62v7f--5GkALQ1mQ6FhkjiMHNjgCd4fmYVKfX1dJ18lkNOYzhp2xpTpRlEpAUqYQttaohfHqjup0y0gHETV2q6NWANDWaLsuK16vRAn3YpVUHJgLf6-NmfeQ7X-Bj5_FMIn0NE18VbQeR9DkMfpgVYxGClAcAYTusyUv0J1MPcpWnmdju8s/s3028/PXL_20230521_112727936%20(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2886" data-original-width="3028" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHGpzK-62v7f--5GkALQ1mQ6FhkjiMHNjgCd4fmYVKfX1dJ18lkNOYzhp2xpTpRlEpAUqYQttaohfHqjup0y0gHETV2q6NWANDWaLsuK16vRAn3YpVUHJgLf6-NmfeQ7X-Bj5_FMIn0NE18VbQeR9DkMfpgVYxGClAcAYTusyUv0J1MPcpWnmdju8s/w200-h191/PXL_20230521_112727936%20(2).jpg" width="200" /></a></div>the drums with his old mates he had gathered together. A half pint of Guinness Stout and I was up there dancing to Sweet Caroline and Gimme Some Lovin. Sunday was the boat trip to four islands, each with their different birds, one with a lighthouse built by Robert Louis Stevenson's family which might have been the inspiration for Treasure Island. We hated leaving, but Monday left for Edinburgh and spent the afternoon at the National Gallery, meeting some of our new friends for lunch. On Tuesday we went to Glasgow, highlights were the Transportation Museum and the Willow Tea Room, but unfortunately I came down with a cold. Back in Edinburgh we discovered Howie's, which served excellent Scottish food in an historic building with windows all around. Later that week we took the train to Beverley, where we attended a concert in the beautiful church St Marys performed by the Early Music group The <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv0oBoyoKSssLry_x5YcGxMmRjxj2xiojJFBff_fwV0QMjm-bWrxij0tpHCR4qzYc9YTOWN3yZbVMSq4gwGooWH2MhaHGRoqpLt39D__HVXC5h5vqZzxTcqpJxmE-OY1shKNWLfpm3KuuXYnRYQjYeL2opOCTWdBPutpxduS0cZ9R8DbKUgkicXr7Y/s3264/PXL_20230522_180552734%20(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv0oBoyoKSssLry_x5YcGxMmRjxj2xiojJFBff_fwV0QMjm-bWrxij0tpHCR4qzYc9YTOWN3yZbVMSq4gwGooWH2MhaHGRoqpLt39D__HVXC5h5vqZzxTcqpJxmE-OY1shKNWLfpm3KuuXYnRYQjYeL2opOCTWdBPutpxduS0cZ9R8DbKUgkicXr7Y/s320/PXL_20230522_180552734%20(2).jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Ministers of Pastime. The next day Bill came down with the same cold so we had to cancel the next night's concert, The Tallis Scholars. But the hotel was comfortable and we got a lot of rest our last couple of days. <p></p><p>Back at BayWoods I hardly slowed down, went to an event at Quiet Waters Park and then a few days later went on a "pedalling" boat cruise of Baltimore Harbor. The summer beckons, we're planning our annual trip north to Gilmanton, with my Chester group meeting the last week of July. Oh, and Beth and I signed up for a trip to Ireland in April/May 2024!</p>slopoethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02776866768826145757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4893577596733269743.post-31962584400475257332023-03-10T13:03:00.005-08:002023-06-15T19:44:55.206-07:00Where Does the Time Go<p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">One of the results of a busy life is that one doesn't have time to blog. Notice it has been more than a year</p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYL-mSCGzMjqEEmU745lsFtp0EIrHUWlMYo6vPrzYR1MWiQ1eJeaaPrM2bp8e7gDbIjIv1kdG8lz8zibqLiztNHHa9bSx4M0yCERy-QAnXh-mKfbL1RkCzr4SUseJlbpQHc6G77VHBZ2eXuxc4i6qg1ahEL7EIWQr8i1w-jy06jWs1aNUAT1TpGoJN/s2939/PXL_20221226_032225015.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2306" data-original-width="2939" height="152" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYL-mSCGzMjqEEmU745lsFtp0EIrHUWlMYo6vPrzYR1MWiQ1eJeaaPrM2bp8e7gDbIjIv1kdG8lz8zibqLiztNHHa9bSx4M0yCERy-QAnXh-mKfbL1RkCzr4SUseJlbpQHc6G77VHBZ2eXuxc4i6qg1ahEL7EIWQr8i1w-jy06jWs1aNUAT1TpGoJN/w194-h152/PXL_20221226_032225015.jpg" width="194" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tyler and Kathi</td></tr></tbody></table><br /> since there has been an update. Many of the details of our lives repeat every year: Chester poetry group in late July (in 2022 only 3 of us met but we're hoping for a full group in 2023), and Gilmanton in August. Because of Covid, long-distance travel by air was not desirable, but we decided we would go to California for Christmas in December 2022. We flew to Santa Barbara, which has a charming airport, and hung out with our friends Roger and Fran. Second stop, Pasadena, visiting with Kirk and his family. Got to spend a little time with Tyler and Kathi. Third stop was Laguna Beach with my sister. Came back home, thankfully no Covid, ready to start the new year.<p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">One small trip I did make in October 2022 was to Princeton to read with my fellow Cool Women Poets for a launch of our latest anthology. Came back after a 3-day trip, back in my own bed Sunday night October 16, was woken up at 3 a.m. by the fire alarm. Unfortunately it was a real fire. The good news is that our building is very well built (steel and concrete) so the fire, which was on the next floor up from us, did not spread from one apartment. The bad news is that the sprinkler system worked (I know, that sounds like good news), causing damage to at least 30 apartments. Ours did not have any water damage but water ran down within our walls, so we had to have 2 feet of drywall removed from 5 walls in our apartment so that insulation could be removed and the interior dried out. It has been 3 months since that was done and we are still waiting for the drywall to be replaced. No comment.</p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0aBqBoB2PflwMTKvXRsiRUwab0OMYImEWgb65ec-9AIA9IdAXPxr0VC6LNeAd3DlfzdgE8ewpYMh8Nq-_hI47pUg4xaPV84AJxlpTS7YyEf9wrldZ1hOvsFPvimyiECwx-gedZvB9HPYTozE4ntj8PJiIKVYDIvZ_sVIvTBZ6jKkZvKQ0iVkrIh5_/s3321/PXL_20221028_215419614.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2648" data-original-width="3321" height="164" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0aBqBoB2PflwMTKvXRsiRUwab0OMYImEWgb65ec-9AIA9IdAXPxr0VC6LNeAd3DlfzdgE8ewpYMh8Nq-_hI47pUg4xaPV84AJxlpTS7YyEf9wrldZ1hOvsFPvimyiECwx-gedZvB9HPYTozE4ntj8PJiIKVYDIvZ_sVIvTBZ6jKkZvKQ0iVkrIh5_/w206-h164/PXL_20221028_215419614.jpg" width="206" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beth, Sharon and Michael</td></tr></tbody></table>In December 2022 we lost one of our closest friends here at BayWoods. His name was Michael Kurtz. He and our friend Beth had become very close in the last year. Michael was our neighbor across the hall. He had an illustrious career as an archivist, serving as the top non-political officer in the National Archives from 1996 to 2011. He also did incredible research on the efforts to find art stolen by the Nazis during World War II, and his work became the inspiration for the 2014 movie "The Monuments Men" directed by George Clooney. But these achievements do not begin to describe what a wonderful friend he was, a gentle soft-spoken man, but strong as iron in his convictions, and always ready to act upon them.<p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">The two genealogical projects I was working on last year continue to take up my time. The Friends of the Van Ness House learned in December 2022 we had achieved 501(c)(3) status. And the Cedar Grove Cemetery project has received much good publicity, last week we were featured on WNYC: <a href="https://www.wnyc.org/story/researchers-aim-show-cemetery-final-resting-place-enslaved-people-who-helped-build-nj-town/">https://www.wnyc.org/story/researchers-aim-show-cemetery-final-resting-place-enslaved-people-who-helped-build-nj-town/</a></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">Our biggest plan comes about in May, a trip to Scotland to see our Scotsman friend Dave Berry. Hopefully you'll be reading about that in the next post. I almost forgot, I was in 3 different acts in the Variety Show here at BayWoods, see some of the highlights here: <a href="https://photos.app.goo.gl/t3AnbkS4kaWaRt2BA">https://photos.app.goo.gl/t3AnbkS4kaWaRt2BA</a></p>slopoethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02776866768826145757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4893577596733269743.post-38126658078143842362022-02-16T06:17:00.001-08:002022-02-16T06:17:40.105-08:00Settling In<p> So it's taken me a little over a year to report again on this blog. As promised, we moved in to Baywoods of Annapolis on March 3. Baywoods has had a really good record during the pandemic, no one in the independent living quarters dying of Covid. Rules have been strict here. We moved in when there were no dinners being served in the dining room, so we got used to dinners arriving in a bag. Instead of cooking we now reheat dinner in a microwave! We also learned how to order from local grocery stores, and ventured out to our favorite espresso bars and a few restaurants when it seemed safe. In May 2021 we took a fun day trip to Easton, Maryland on the Eastern Shore (also got my car registered, lines were shorter there). We've made very good friends here so far. I joined the staff of the Breeze newsletter, and one of my specialties is interviewing new residents. Earlier this week on Valentine's Day we participated with three other couples in a "newlywed game," came in second. Over the year we've gone on a few excursions with small groups to the outdoor sculpture garden in DC, the Baltimore Museum of Industry, and earlier this month to the African-American Museum. As I write this things are slowly opening up more. Dining room serving again, even happy hours. I take a swim exercise class twice a week. </p><p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhIfr4YKwKF0B4At99JosP1hNFmjyNA8TwPLNeRm7B6CAxl9ugo9m83ZwdTuCsP1X3o3WjP0e_hE2j61uRGab3dXAyRHQE7hGecX_0kZ2NLIEVJUepF-aSvtmEXbxOB_bq2V1dY4c37kWQRO338LBM8Xs4_8F8HVWoDiIcIJGG6gZ_vPtu8ytQ5IV6b=s1600" 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="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhIfr4YKwKF0B4At99JosP1hNFmjyNA8TwPLNeRm7B6CAxl9ugo9m83ZwdTuCsP1X3o3WjP0e_hE2j61uRGab3dXAyRHQE7hGecX_0kZ2NLIEVJUepF-aSvtmEXbxOB_bq2V1dY4c37kWQRO338LBM8Xs4_8F8HVWoDiIcIJGG6gZ_vPtu8ytQ5IV6b=w290-h218" width="290" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eddie, Bill and I in Jávea, <br />Spain, in 2009</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Last summer we managed to drive all the way to Gilmanton, stopping along the way to visit friends in the Princeton area, in Brooklyn, and Guilford, Connecticut. We stayed at the Jersey City Hyatt and were given a room with a view overlooking the Hudson. We were able to use the PATH and Lyft to get to Brooklyn to see our friends Ruthie and Eddie Lemansky. As I write this we've just learned that Eddie died of a heart attack yesterday, February 15. He was one of Bill's oldest friends so we are glad we were able to get to see him last summer.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj1SbOG42KMFrxjUP-qDi_JkQIyF2GmGXfvW9dZsJ1Aob9qZVCJfOoyVB4DYolT63do7VN_zKq6hPYQFi3pXJ1jLvUNfcyaLWiY5YyCGfr1rVom4yORz5xIH3JuuUkVE062w4TzyPnpdfg9lwRuBTO8VZojzz7y_ZmREpqjvUdApQIXJJqMeuhFIp6X=s3600" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2401" data-original-width="3600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj1SbOG42KMFrxjUP-qDi_JkQIyF2GmGXfvW9dZsJ1Aob9qZVCJfOoyVB4DYolT63do7VN_zKq6hPYQFi3pXJ1jLvUNfcyaLWiY5YyCGfr1rVom4yORz5xIH3JuuUkVE062w4TzyPnpdfg9lwRuBTO8VZojzz7y_ZmREpqjvUdApQIXJJqMeuhFIp6X=s320" width="320" /></a></div>Last October we were lucky there was a small decline in covid cases, so we boarded a plane at BWI and<br /> flew to California so we could attend my great-nephew Riley's wedding to Michelle in the wine country. We went to all the wedding festivities, the rehearsal dinner, the wedding in a vineyard, brunch the next mroning, all in one fast weekend. And of course we got to see all of my family in one place, together, true luxury.<p></p><p>Recently my genealogical "career" has picked up. I not only published the second of two installments of my Captain Sandford article, I have become involved in two unrelated but somewhat connected projects in New Jersey. One is an attempt to collect all known information about the Cedar Grove community (of which my Simonsons were one family there) in a project to develop a possible museum featuring the cemetery there. The other one is to try to save the Peter Van Ness house in Fairfield, New Jersey, this campaign has just begun in earnest, and I am on a committee of three planning it. So I work with four different men on these two projects, and some of them know each other, so I am juggling to remember what I've said to who about what...</p><p>Our next excursion will be to New York to hear Jordi Savall at Carnegie Hall, and see Jenny, Phil and one or two grandchildren. Perhaps I'll be writing here more frequently. Hard to believe I've been so busy but I guess retirement can be like that.</p>slopoethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02776866768826145757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4893577596733269743.post-92210845388792127602021-02-14T17:59:00.000-08:002021-02-14T17:59:45.868-08:00Surprise Move!<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jJq58bvjbm0/YCnURczg5-I/AAAAAAACw18/5ggqxmBb1I8PAD-j6-Kp5YXA_AMMOWoXwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_20201027_172010_exported_3561872929779724870%2B%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1465" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jJq58bvjbm0/YCnURczg5-I/AAAAAAACw18/5ggqxmBb1I8PAD-j6-Kp5YXA_AMMOWoXwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_20201027_172010_exported_3561872929779724870%2B%25281%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>This will probably surprise the heck out of anyone actually reading my blog. We are on our way to Annapolis. Let me back up and catch you up from the last post of June 6, 2020. Soon after that I was a featured reader along with Doren Robbins for a Poetry Center San Jose zoom reading (June 9). The regular events were changed slightly, my Chester group met for a week via Zoom in late July. We decided going to New Hampshire would work fine, pandemic-wise, as the levels of infection were very low there. So we drove up to Guilford, had dinner (masked, socially distanced) with our friends Gwen and Norm, and then arrived at Drew Farm on July 25. The first week we were there with Clare and Lucy only, then the rest of the family came. Going to the pond was easy, people stayed away from each other enough so we all felt safe. Bill and I even shopped at the market pretty regularly, how daring! We stayed until mid-August, then drove home stopping at Wallingford, my new Connecticut discovery where I'd stayed with Juditha the year before. Bill liked it very much, especially the Library Bar and Bistro for dinner. <p></p><p>All of the regular activities took place, except via Zoom, like my various book groups, the Cool Women, the Chester group. In fact, it was nice to meet with the Chester group once a month instead of the usual once-a-year gathering. The first part of my article about John Sandford/Sanford/Santford, the three Revolutionary War soldiers, came out in September (and then part two is soon to arrive in March 2021). </p><p>But the real excitement came around October when I convinced Bill we should go down to Annapolis and take a look at some of the apartments at BayWoods of Annapolis, the retirement community we had researched and which was beckoning to us. So we drove down on my birthday, staying at Country Inn and Suites, found the good espresso place there (Ceremony Coffee), found a beautiful park by the bay (Quiet Waters), and had dinner outside (tented) at Vin 909 to celebrate. The next morning, after breakfast downtown outside near the docks, we showed up for our tour with Jim Harrington of two of the two-bedroom apartments that were available. Unfortunately, both were on the north side, not as sunny as the south side. But it all looked good. We spent some time also at a wonderful bookstore/coffeehouse and had lunch in Eastport in a sandwich place, sitting outside looking out over the harbor.</p><p>So then we mulled it over for awhile...! Genevieve and I arranged a Zoom 80th birthday surprise for him with friends from all over the country wishing him well. Thanksgiving came and went, quiet, just the two of us. Christmas came and went, quiet, just the two of us. We decided maybe my niece Karen could help us out, since the Covid cases were particularly high around the end of the year. So she went to BayWoods on January 9th, toured an apartment newly available on the south, sunny side, took lots of photos and talked to Jim Harrington. The apartment looked great, was on the fourth floor, had a view of the water, and so we decided why go down again to look at it, since the two-bedroom plans all had the same layout, and we had seen the facility. We had looked into at least 30 or so other places, ranked them financially and by amenities, and this place just seemed the best fit for us. We had only visited Annapolis one other time (back in 2007) but the visit in October revealed a town with a lot of excitement, and the fact that we would be right on the Chesapeake Bay just seemed very exciting and relaxing at the same time. Also nice to be near D.C. and all of its activities, as well as Karen and Elena and Marina being nearby as well. And friends Anne and Fred, and Hiram to boot.</p><p>I am writing this as we are in the throes of moving. Many boxes of books. Backaches, packing exhaustion. We are looking forward to being in our new place, that's for sure! Next post will have more news about our adjustment to the retirement community and life further south. At least I don't have to worry about my not seeming to be much of a Jersey girl. All I have to be now is a decent Annapolitan.</p><p><br /></p>slopoethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02776866768826145757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4893577596733269743.post-24975669548469373812020-06-06T10:34:00.001-07:002020-06-06T10:34:19.503-07:00Long Days at Home<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://1.bp.blogspot.com/-u0EhJFoanlI/XtvOwTn5G7I/AAAAAAAClzo/gUBY0BtOOlYH4-J3vuMUXz9U2GQGK-8JwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_20191202_155401.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="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-u0EhJFoanlI/XtvOwTn5G7I/AAAAAAAClzo/gUBY0BtOOlYH4-J3vuMUXz9U2GQGK-8JwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_20191202_155401.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cooperstown Public Library</td></tr>
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The last post ended with a recap of whirlwind activities involving my new book, a train ride across the country, my 50th college reunion. Soon after that reunion Bill and I drove to Buffalo for Thanksgiving. On Sunday we planned a leisurely drive across the state to Cooperstown, to spend a night there as we had done a few times before. Unfortunately a storm was also planned for that day. We thought to ourselves, how bad could it be? Well, it was pretty daunting, took us all day to reach the turnoff for Cooperstown, the thruway full of cars creeping along in slush, our windshields pelted with pellets of frost. At the turnoff it was already dark. And a steep hill was on our route, unbeknownst to us the rather locally famous "Vickerman Hill." Cars to the right of us, cars to the left of us had spun out, but my Volvo soldiered on, only balked once, steady pressure to the gas and we made it to the top. I am becoming an accomplished winter driver. Still not there yet, though, another hour or two when it normally would have taken less than an hour. And minimal visibility, luckily very few cars on the road. We finally reached our destination, an old Victorian in Cooperstown, the Landmark Inn, and were fortunate one restaurant in town was still open, Mel's at 22, and it was warm and cozy with delicious food. The b&b let us stay an extra night of course, who else would be coming with several feet of snow? So we darted in to the Cooperstown Baseball Hall of Fame the next day (we had to take turns because parking seemed to be prohibited everywhere...). We discovered Alex's World Bistro for a late lunch, then ordered takeout for our dinner back at the room (a bottle of wine purchased at the liquor store next door...seems liquor stores never close in inclement weather). So this is rather a long-winded description of a two-day event. Not to worry, there won't be much to relate for the next series of months...<br />
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I seem to remember a reading the Cools gave at the New Brunswick Public Library, and Gretna, Maxine and I having a great pizza lunch afterwards. That was March 7. Then the world started closing in. The pandemic had arrived. Events began to be cancelled. Frances Mayes' reading in Doylestown. Gray Jacobik's long-anticipated reading at the FDR library in Hyde Park. Bill and I navigated getting groceries delivered, and ordering takeout from places that allowed us to pick up at the curb. Masks acquired. The kindness of neighbors, some of whom shopped for us when online delivery was interrupted.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My great great grandfather Patrick Henry Rafter<br />becomes a citizen</td></tr>
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Staying home is not as difficult for old people like us who are somewhat introverted and like to spend time on the Internet. I finished an article that I sent off to my editor at the Genealogical Magazine of New Jersey. Threw away bags of papers, files, photos. Started more genealogical research. Wrote some poems. Was <a href="https://guilfordpoetsguild.wordpress.com/2020/04/09/poet-sharon-olson/" target="_blank">interviewed</a> by the Guilford Poets Guild. Zoomed with my poetry friends, Gilmanton folks, Bill's family in Buffalo.<br />
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But watched in horror as the president of our country seemed to become a more and more frightening and dangerous individual. And George Floyd was murdered. That is where this blog is at this point in time, June 2020. People rising up. So many helpful commentators. Trevor Noah, for example, on the social contract. What good does it do, he asked, if the people in charge have broken the social contract, why should the oppressed continue to obey it?<br />
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Bill and I plan to go to New Hampshire in late July. That is about the sum of things here. Be well and stay stafe. And listen to the voices of change. What do we want, justice. When do we want it, now.slopoethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02776866768826145757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4893577596733269743.post-89469403621624428142019-11-18T19:41:00.002-08:002019-12-17T08:20:33.727-08:00Recap of 2019<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chicago</td></tr>
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The year 2019 began with the publication by Cherry Grove Collections of my second book of poems, <i>Will There Be Music? </i>The book launch took place in Guilford, Connecticut, reading for the Guilford Poets Guild on April 27, 2019. But even before the book launch, I decided to attend AWP in Portland, Oregon, and to take Amtrak across the country as a sort of meditative journey, arriving in time for the conference which began March 27. I was able to touch base with lots of west coast poetry friends there, as well as staying with my college friend Peggy and her husband Bill. We drove up the Columbia as far as Cascade Locks and found the Sacagawea statue, and also went to see the University of Oregon women win the game that sent them to the Final Four!<br />
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Bill met me in Southern California where we visited my sister for a few days, then drove up to the Pasadena area. Some highlights were visits to two cemeteries where I found my Swedish grandmother (in Long Beach) and my maternal grandparents (in Whittier); a tour of the William Andrews Clark Library and its Ward Ritchie Collection (where a copy he owned of my chapbook resides); Santa Anita racetrack; and a tour of the Charles F. Lummis House with Kirk and Melinda.<br />
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Unbeknownst to my sister, we needed to kill time before her "surprise" birthday party, so we drove up to Santa Paula, were given a tour of Ojai by my Italy XIV friend Jerry Dunn, and hung out with friends Fran and Roger, and Gil and Joan in Santa Barbara, visiting the Santa Barbara Mission among other sites. When the time came, we truly did surprise my sister at Kent and Cindy's house.<br />
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Returning to the east coast, there were two readings for my book, one as mentioned above in Guilford, CT, and the second at the Princeton Public Library in June. In between these events was a quick trip to Buffalo to attend my step-daughter-in-law's graduation from the University of Buffalo Law School. On the way home I managed to create a genealogical mini-tour at Honeoye Falls, where some of my Sandfords migrated in the early 1800s.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Honeoye Falls, NY</td></tr>
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In late July I joined my poetry friends in Chester, Connecticut where suitable hijinks as well as serious endeavors took place. Then on to Drew Farm, the grandchildren, swimming, the Rock Party, all went on as usual. On the way home I convinced Bill to take a detour to Vermont where we found a monument to one of the Sandfords in Weybridge, and then we stayed two nights at the Inn in Westport (NY), and on the day in between we drove up to Long Lake and had lunch with a distant cousin of mine, also a Sandford, a fellow writer Pat Garber.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 16px; text-align: center;">With Ned at the game</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With Tom and Cindy at the game</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With Holly at class party</td></tr>
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In September I gave my third reading for my book at the Newtown Library Company. Then in October I flew back to Portland, Oregon, where my friend Penelope had invited me to read at her White Dog Salon. Staying again with Peggy and Bill, and the last night at Penelope's, was quite cozy. The next stop, meeting Bill in the Bay Area where my Stanford Class of '69 50th reunion was about to begin. As one of the volunteers I got to go to an extra party, and Bill and I attended dinner on the Quad before a cold virus struck him down. I avoided this malady for the nonce and was able to attend the class party, the football game (where our class walked on the field during halftime), and the dinner I arranged at Vaso Azzurro in Mountain View for 24 members of our Italy XIV group (with some spouses, luckily Bill was able to bounce back for that!). We stayed in town an extra week to visit Palo Alto friends, and ended with a final reading at Waverley Writers before we flew home. Some highlights were being driven to the first event by my friend Holly in a tiny bright red Mazda Miata, re-connecting with my freshman friend Ned Wight (who swung me around expertly at the class party), attending the football game with Italy friend Tom, who plastered a red pompom on his head for the walk across the field, and being sung to for my birthday by my Italy group and the entire restaurant at Vaso Azzurro! The Waverley reading was especially lovely, so nice to connect with such old friends.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With Bill at Vaso Azzurro</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Poem I wrote for our class</td></tr>
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slopoethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02776866768826145757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4893577596733269743.post-70736303255747088382019-10-17T08:20:00.002-07:002019-10-17T08:20:42.349-07:00Coming this way: Oregon and California!<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="m_-3978838299442855129templateContainer" style="background-color: white; border-collapse: collapse; border: 0px; color: #222222; font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: small; max-width: 600px !important; width: 100%px;"><tbody>
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<span style="color: firebrick;">Don't miss Sharon Olson reading soon in Portland, Oregon and Palo Alto, California.</span></h1>
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<span style="color: navy; font-family: lucida sans unicode, lucida grande, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 18px;"><strong>Sunday, October 20, 3-5 p.m., White Dog Poetry Salon (reading with Laura LeHew), 507 NW Skyline Crest Road, Portland, Oregon</strong></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: navy; font-family: lucida sans unicode, lucida grande, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 18px;"><strong>AND<br />Friday, November 1, 7:30 p.m., Friends Meeting House, 957 Colorado Avenue, Palo Alto, California, hosted by the Waverley Writers.</strong></span></span></div>
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<strong><br />Sharon will be reading from her new collection entitled <em>Will There Be Music? </em>published in 2019 by Cherry Grove Collections. Copies available for sale at the readings, from Amazon and from Barnes and Noble, or order from your local independent bookstore.<br /><br />Cincinnati, Ohio, Cherry Grove Collections,<br />ISBN: 978-1625493026, 106 pages, $19.00.<br /><br /><br /><br />The loose ends of lives and generations are expertly bundled in these alert, meditative poems. Part of a poet’s task is to catch the resonances of time and Sharon Olson has done that.<br />—Baron Wormser<br /><br />‘Will there be music?’ asks the poet in her title poem. This collection definitively answers that question: we cannot live without it.—Fred Marchant</strong><br /><br /><span style="font-size: 15px;"><strong id="m_-3978838299442855129docs-internal-guid-e0cd4de8-7fff-4888-3595-faa22b763b68"><img align="left" class="CToWUd a6T" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEjbCL3IHUpr6rNDEemORplwYR8jWIFEcBag8V0Qcrr-WS0RROFWP6oLqtWBVMd_ZcDdhyA7UVGLc9DAMaGwo0oYBgAxhoWzxt6GzLtbaKtGeQ6VBjY91P1Wi3e3rYssx13CL_RwqLVS7PXY_82QI_mep46EvIhgsTbXGYkwgU-UayeGgnXIODPunTLHAPv0s6NmfucaduRyWPFBEbsAYkmV6SlL_9UgmQ=s0-d-e1-ft" style="border: 0px; cursor: pointer; height: 266px; margin: 5px; outline: none; width: 200px;" tabindex="0" width="200" /><div class="a6S" dir="ltr" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; opacity: 0.01; position: absolute;">
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Sharon Olson is a retired librarian, a Stanford graduate, with an M.L.S. from U.C. Berkeley and an M.A. in Comparative Literature from the University of Oregon. Her chapbook <em>Clouds Brushed in Later </em>(1987) won the Abby Niebauer Memorial Chapbook Award. A previous full-length book of poems, <em>The Long Night of Flying</em>, was published by Sixteen Rivers Press in 2006. She has published (with co-author Chris Schopfer) numerous articles about the Sandford family of New Jersey in<em> The Genealogical Magazine of New Jersey.</em> After retiring from the Palo Alto City Library she and her husband moved initially to Guilford, Connecticut, and presently live in Lawrenceville, New Jersey. She is a member of Cool Women, a poetry performance ensemble based in Princeton, New Jersey.</strong></span><br />
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slopoethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02776866768826145757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4893577596733269743.post-48532177895470307352019-09-12T12:40:00.001-07:002019-09-12T12:40:13.902-07:00Newtown Library Company Reading Sept 20<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-size: large;">Poetry Night: Sharon Olson</span></span><br />
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Who: Sharon Olson<br />
When: Friday, September 20, 2019 at 7:30PM<br />
Where: The Newtown Library Company, 114 E. Centre Ave. Newtown, PA<br />
Bring a friend and a poem for the open mic!<br />
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Sharon Olson is a retired librarian, a Stanford graduate, with an M.L.S. from U.C. Berkeley and an M.A. in comparative literature from the University of Oregon. Her chapbook Clouds Brushed in Later (1987) won the Abby Niebauer Memorial Chapbook Award, and a full-length book of poems, The Long Night of Flying, was published by Sixteen Rivers Press in 2006. Her second book <a href="https://www.cherry-grove.com/olson.html" target="_blank">Will There Be Music? </a>was published by Cherry Grove Collections in early 2019. She has published (with co-author Chris Schopfer) numerous articles about the Sandford family of New Jersey in The Genealogical Magazine of New Jersey. She is a member of the U.S. 1 Poets’ Cooperative and also performs with the Cool Women Poets.<br />
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114 E Centre Ave, Newtown, PA 18940, USAslopoethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02776866768826145757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4893577596733269743.post-47549254077995462932019-05-27T06:09:00.002-07:002019-05-29T12:51:24.227-07:00Next Reading, June 10<h2>
<a href="https://princetonlibrary.org/event/poets-at-the-library-27/" target="_blank">Poets at the Library</a></h2>
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Monday, June 10, 7:00 pm - 8:30 pm<br />Princeton Public Library, 65 Witherspoon St.<br />Newsroom, Second Floor</h4>
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Featured poets Gretna Wilkinson and Sharon Olson read for 20 minutes from their works, followed by an open-mic session.</div>
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Sharon Olson is a retired librarian, a Stanford graduate, with an M.L.S. from U.C. Berkeley and an M.A. in comparative literature from the University of Oregon. Her chapbook <i>Clouds Brushed in Later </i>(1987) won the Abby Niebauer Memorial Chapbook Award, and a full-length book of poems, <i>The Long Night of Flying</i>, was published by Sixteen Rivers Press in 2006. Her second book <a href="https://www.cherry-grove.com/olson.html" target="_blank"><i>Will There Be Music?</i> </a>was published by Cherry Grove Collections in early 2019. She has published (with co-author Chris Schopfer) numerous articles about the Sandford family of New Jersey in <i>The Genealogical Magazine of New Jersey</i>. She is a member of the U.S.1 Poets’ Cooperative and also performs with the Cool Women Poets.</div>
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Gretna Wilkinson began her career as a missionary teacher in the jungles of her native Guyana. She has performed her poems on radio and television and is published in <i>Saranac Review</i>, <i>The Literary Review</i>, and <i>Poets of New Jersey: From Colonial to Contemporary</i>, among others. She’s been featured in <i>The New York Times</i>, <i>The Star Ledger</i>, <i>Courier News</i>, and others. After 17 years as a college professor, she joined the Visual and Performing Arts Academy of Red Bank Regional High School where she ran the Creative Writing program. Her online literary magazine, <a href="http://theravensperch.com/" target="_blank">theravensperch.com </a>was nominated Top 10 Literary Blog on The Web (Feedspot). She is an honorary Eagle Scout, Monmouth County Art Educator of the Year, Red Bank Regional Teacher of the Year, and was recently named Claes Nobel Educator of Distinction.</div>
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slopoethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02776866768826145757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4893577596733269743.post-66416959112721047442019-02-21T15:01:00.000-08:002019-02-22T06:48:36.126-08:00Ekphrastic Poetry: Part Four, Finding Comfort<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Geertgen tot Sint Jans<br />
John the Baptist<br />
in the Wilderness</td></tr>
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The genius of my first art professor, Patricia Rose, was how she demonstrated the power of detail in works of art, especially the capability of details to convey emotion, a surprising revelation. I remember sitting in the dark as she displayed the slide showing John the Baptist in the Wilderness by Geertgen tot Sint Jans, and then she zeroed in on the proliferation of flowers and animals, and the way the central figure sat in this wild grass, with one foot slightly above another ("one foot deliciously massaging the other beneath it"). It was many years later that I wrote about this image, the poem appearing in my book <a href="https://slopoet.blogspot.com/p/will-there-be-music.html" target="_blank"><i>Will There Be Music?</i> </a><br />
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The Extraction of the<br />
Stone of Madness</td></tr>
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Similarly in my poem "Motley Fool" I have examined closely Hieronymus Bosch's "The Extraction of the Stone of Madness," depicting an early form of the medical barbarity known as trepanation ("ice fishing into the skull to pluck the fish of madness"). I think the viewer places himself into this work, commiserating with the victim, this patient of 1494.<br />
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Bayeux Tapestry</td></tr>
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By chance I came upon the story of a friend of mine, a librarian named Ellin Klor, who was clutching her knitting materials while running up some stairs, and inadvertently stabbed herself in the heart with one of the needles (she survived!). Somehow this tale fit so nicely with a long poem I was writing about Einstein ("how starlight bends around the sun"), color theory, horse racing, and the Bayeux Tapestry ("Heavenly Bodies Along the Rail"). The detail in the tapestry that captivated me was the place where the dying Harold is depicted ("a spear hanging like a tear from his eye").</div>
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As a young woman reading Proust (my literary side) I remember being interested<br />
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Piero della Francesca</td></tr>
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in the way he was able to focus on such interesting themes, like the way one saw a steeple "move" as you traveled by coach upon different curving roads. And I loved his description of three trees, "those trees themselves I was never to know what they had been trying to give me nor where else I had seen them." By the time I had read these words I had already seen "these trees," those in Piero della<br />
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Taken by author, 1967</td></tr>
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The Three Trees</td></tr>
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Francesca's paintings, an engraving of three trees I had laid eyes on in Rembrandt's house, and a group of cypresses I had photographed above the city of Arezzo. The poem I wrote about all these ideas, if one could call them ideas, is called "Placement."<br />
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Town Hall, Panicale</td></tr>
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Eustachio, Rome</td></tr>
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<span style="color: black;">Finding comfort in art can be as simple as noticing a portrait looking down upon you as you are being married in a town hall (Masolino in "The Marriage Ceremony"), or seeking solace from the head of a stag on the front of a church ("Meditation in Rome"). </span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><br /></span><span style="color: black;">The appearance of my father in a vivid dream, not long after his death, seemed at the time to remind me of the Raphael drawing I had seen long ago in the Vatican, The Miraculous Draught of Fishes ("the disciples reached down for the nets, sun on their muscled arms").</span><br />
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This ends my art tour. It has been a pleasure being your guide.<br />
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Raphael, The Miraculous Draught of Fishes</div>
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<br />slopoethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02776866768826145757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4893577596733269743.post-79006687539505500092019-02-21T13:29:00.001-08:002019-04-30T05:16:23.357-07:00Ekphrastic Poetry: Part Three, Portrait of the Artist<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Quite a few of the poems in my book <i><a href="https://slopoet.blogspot.com/p/will-there-be-music.html" target="_blank">Will There Be Music?</a></i> contemplate the artist more than the works themselves, and in some cases they focus on the subject of rather public art. In part two of this series I mentioned a game I had made up to mimic the pose of figures in Henry Moore's works. My husband Bill became an early convert to this game, aptly copying the "lean" of Jean-Paul Sartre in the statue of him by Roseline Granet outside the Bibliothèque Nationale. I had always imagined the fragility of the man being pictured here "marching against the wind and rain." My poem about him remarks upon the writer's melancholia, and the irony of his known intolerance for statues of famous people. I learned later he was not really fighting a true storm, but that the sculpture was made from looking at a photograph of him, taken on a beach in Lithuania, where he was trying to evade crowds of onlookers.<br />
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Sometimes it is not exactly a work of art that inspires a poem, it might be a death mask ("Nietzsche's Death Mask") or a desk left behind in a California mansion ("Franz Werfel in California, 1945"). One of the artists who has been a constant influence ever since I discovered him in a class on twentieth-century art is Emil Nolde, a complex figure whose works span the period from the 1880s to the 1950s. Nolde was born in a region claimed back and forth by both Denmark and Germany, but he always felt he was German, and many of his early paintings championed old Germanic myths and folk figures. This got him into trouble with the Nazi regime which interpreted these images as "degenerate," and banned his works from museums, and prohibited him from painting at all. Nolde himself espoused anti-semitic views, a viewpoint he later tried to expunge from his memoirs. My poem "Painted Into a Corner" celebrates his landscapes, which I have always found to be spectacular ("red skies all but overwhelming the naval blue mountains below them"), as well as his expressionist works ("those wild women shaking their naked bodies in a primitive dance").<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VKFKJd965Fc/XG8XzN3SGsI/AAAAAAACSUw/H9JMSUYKnFU461R5E-EPJeXkaKuNN9TigCLcBGAs/s1600/dance-around-the-golden-calf-1910.jpg%2521Large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="737" height="162" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VKFKJd965Fc/XG8XzN3SGsI/AAAAAAACSUw/H9JMSUYKnFU461R5E-EPJeXkaKuNN9TigCLcBGAs/s200/dance-around-the-golden-calf-1910.jpg%2521Large.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emil Nolde, Dance Around<br />
the Golden Calf, 1910</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QtPgUCxQEB4/XG8XwvV2VzI/AAAAAAACSUs/ozVhmAt__t4lRdvC5-36MUSw9oAfPDK3QCLcBGAs/s1600/en_meer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1229" data-original-width="1600" height="153" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QtPgUCxQEB4/XG8XwvV2VzI/AAAAAAACSUs/ozVhmAt__t4lRdvC5-36MUSw9oAfPDK3QCLcBGAs/s200/en_meer.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emil Nolde, En Meer</td></tr>
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slopoethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02776866768826145757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4893577596733269743.post-74387378008459039622019-02-20T09:13:00.000-08:002019-02-22T20:35:50.621-08:00Ekphrastic Poetry: Part Two, Feminism in Art<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://3.bp.blogspot.com/-k7GS5JnCX30/XG10-na0shI/AAAAAAACSRU/Xac9JMR9z9MEmPrTQcE6Le7V6hur-oHLACLcBGAs/s1600/C1898739-78D8-4ED5-87C7-74048A99C79D-782-0000005C1E9460ED.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="374" height="200" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-k7GS5JnCX30/XG10-na0shI/AAAAAAACSRU/Xac9JMR9z9MEmPrTQcE6Le7V6hur-oHLACLcBGAs/s200/C1898739-78D8-4ED5-87C7-74048A99C79D-782-0000005C1E9460ED.png" width="149" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Giovanni Pisano, <br />
Madonna and Child, 1301</td></tr>
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This is the second part of an art tour based on some of the poems in my book <i><a href="http://slopoet.blogspot.com/p/will-there-be-music.html" target="_blank">Will There Be Music?</a></i> In part one I recounted my experience taking Renaissance Art as a freshman in college. I had an amazing professor, Patricia Rose, who was at Stanford only a short while, and later had a long, illustrious career at Florida State. You might find it hard to believe, but this morning I was able to find, without too much trouble, my notes from her course. I wanted to look up what she had said (or what I had written down) about Giovanni Pisano's Madonna and Child in the Cathedral of Prato. This church possesses a relic known as "the sacred girdle," the one that Mary gave to Thomas (in Italian <i>cintura</i>, this girdle is more like a waist sash). My notes record how the mother and child are looking at each other, how the child is touching his mother's crown, and how the mother's body curved to receive the child. These are all details I remember noticing when I finally saw this work in 1967 when I was a student in nearby Florence. And years later, writing the poem "In the Bowery" I was reminded of the twisting of this woman's body, and how similar it was to the motions my mother made escaping her girdle ("our mother seen once struggling to throw her girdle to the floor"). A minor step in my feminist history: I never wore one myself.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-R9BQ3feoUF4/XG14DLo00DI/AAAAAAACSRg/BssR8q1RWswbcFuzoy-1PjQSyC1yyxGGQCLcBGAs/s1600/13C4DECB-9EF6-451A-AE7F-00CBC8402F31-782-0000005CF6FF54A3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="800" height="133" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-R9BQ3feoUF4/XG14DLo00DI/AAAAAAACSRg/BssR8q1RWswbcFuzoy-1PjQSyC1yyxGGQCLcBGAs/s200/13C4DECB-9EF6-451A-AE7F-00CBC8402F31-782-0000005CF6FF54A3.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Caryatids of the Erechtheion,<br />
Acropolis</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-v6NRvhSMNeU/XG15iUcUNXI/AAAAAAACSRs/fcQ_JgpBLEAHnf534yHernCW59mGPTnNgCLcBGAs/s1600/Sharon%2Bat%2BAcropolis%2B1972.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="722" height="138" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-v6NRvhSMNeU/XG15iUcUNXI/AAAAAAACSRs/fcQ_JgpBLEAHnf534yHernCW59mGPTnNgCLcBGAs/s200/Sharon%2Bat%2BAcropolis%2B1972.bmp" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">slopoet at the Acropolis, 1972</td></tr>
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The poem "Caryatids" takes me back to the summer of 1972 when I backpacked through Europe for three months by myself, picking up various companions along the way. The caryatids of the <span style="color: #450c02;">Erechtheion were so inspiring, and years later I delved into the derivation of the word "caryatid," how it was a reference to the women of Karyae ("nut women [who] placed baskets of live reeds on their heads and danced"). I also made reference to how one of them was stolen by Lord Elgin, a theme that parallels real-life abductions of women. Before we turn to that theme, you might note this photo from 1972 to prove I was really there...</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FTKqs4AAmjY/XG165UpHvkI/AAAAAAACSR4/kUc9cXsEkBAlPrAmzqz21I7TYz0hftLWQCLcBGAs/s1600/71D9F55A-FE81-4B54-A200-20CB3EE7F1EF-782-000000622983CFB9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="503" data-original-width="750" height="133" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FTKqs4AAmjY/XG165UpHvkI/AAAAAAACSR4/kUc9cXsEkBAlPrAmzqz21I7TYz0hftLWQCLcBGAs/s200/71D9F55A-FE81-4B54-A200-20CB3EE7F1EF-782-000000622983CFB9.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John Sloan, "The Picnic Grounds," 1906-7</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8MRdns8lZUw/XG172v577nI/AAAAAAACSSE/inrHz6oN8e4Etc30zZWOLWK7S5aJQYekgCLcBGAs/s1600/0926E0F9-B223-4F1D-B557-B3F4F1855073-782-0000006147D4B43F.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="952" height="200" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8MRdns8lZUw/XG172v577nI/AAAAAAACSSE/inrHz6oN8e4Etc30zZWOLWK7S5aJQYekgCLcBGAs/s200/0926E0F9-B223-4F1D-B557-B3F4F1855073-782-0000006147D4B43F.jpg" width="118" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bernini, Apollo<br />
and Daphne, 1622-25</td></tr>
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<span style="color: #450c02;">A course on American Art led me to the works of John Sloan, and to one painting I was able to see in an exhibition, his painting "The Picnic Grounds," 1906-7. Years later this led to the poem "Trees Painted White," a meditation on those white trunks I had seen in Sloan's painting, and elsewhere in my world, trees treated for bugs and/or to retard sunlight ("lime in the whitewash choked the bugs"). The poem then travels on to the story of Apollo and Daphne, how she was being pursued by Apollo and the gods who were on her side suddenly changed her into a laurel tree. Of course, life as a tree was perhaps not a great option, but she at least escaped ravishment ("Daphne shrieked, ran pell mell away from lust"). Before I went to Italy for the first time in 1967 I had also had a course on Baroque Art, including Bernini, so one of my pilgrimages in Rome was to the Borghese Gallery to see his magnificent sculpture of this subject.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-89e1lTLHFRc/XG2KFvhRIJI/AAAAAAACSTA/1thALiWL5wU43EbRoEYJq1durNNK4RTfgCLcBGAs/s1600/Sharon%2Bat%2BNorton%2BSimon%252C%2B1985.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="537" height="198" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-89e1lTLHFRc/XG2KFvhRIJI/AAAAAAACSTA/1thALiWL5wU43EbRoEYJq1durNNK4RTfgCLcBGAs/s200/Sharon%2Bat%2BNorton%2BSimon%252C%2B1985.bmp" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Posing with Henry Moore's<br />
Draped Reclining Woman<br />
at the Norton Simon Museum,<br />
Pasadena, 1985</td></tr>
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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://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g21R8ia98YE/XG1-9MfUNbI/AAAAAAACSSQ/Ai9g1yWv4HcoZHdF7SWAo6tQ1F0K1PRlQCLcBGAs/s1600/slo%2Bat%2Bleeds.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1088" data-original-width="1600" height="135" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g21R8ia98YE/XG1-9MfUNbI/AAAAAAACSSQ/Ai9g1yWv4HcoZHdF7SWAo6tQ1F0K1PRlQCLcBGAs/s200/slo%2Bat%2Bleeds.jpeg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">slopoet with Henry Moore's<br />
Reclining Woman in front<br />
of Leeds Art Gallery</td></tr>
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<span style="color: #450c02;">I think in addition to wanting to view art, I sometimes had a secret desire to be part of art. The poem "No Breath, No Smut" mentions the curious tradition of <i>tableau vivante, </i>a practice I had seen at the almost tacky Laguna Festival of the Arts, where real people portray individuals from famous works of art ("the flutter of an eyelash allowed yet no pause to heave or sigh"). In the same poem I also refer to a game I made up, "Capturing Henry Moore," where it was my custom to climb up next to one of his pieces and try to mimic the pose. The first time I did this, I think, was in 1985, posing with Moore's "Draped Reclining Woman" at the Norton Simon Museum in Pasadena. Here I am in 1994 posing next to his Reclining Woman in Leeds.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #450c02;">I'm not particularly religious but nevertheless I've been drawn to <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://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LOFhFu2YmqI/XG2CRsI0LhI/AAAAAAACSSc/Qzq_qzqrriIBX8N0QhFhkgMmnoZe1BcCgCLcBGAs/s1600/E3D5D1EA-7256-49A5-85AB-58A76F0F4063-782-0000006061A31C97.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="599" data-original-width="676" height="176" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LOFhFu2YmqI/XG2CRsI0LhI/AAAAAAACSSc/Qzq_qzqrriIBX8N0QhFhkgMmnoZe1BcCgCLcBGAs/s200/E3D5D1EA-7256-49A5-85AB-58A76F0F4063-782-0000006061A31C97.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hieronymus Bosch,<br />
Crucifixion of St. Julia/<br />
St. Wilgefortis.</td></tr>
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stories from the Catholic faith, especially their saints. The female saints often had been young girls about to be married off by their fathers to some lucrative suitor. Yet their faith led them to reject these offers, often with tragic consequences. These are stories similar to that of Daphne, where the man is threatening to ravish them, and they find a way to escape. St. Wilgefortis' fate was especially tragic. When she refused the man her father procured for her, a miracle happened and she started to grow a beard. The man backed off, and her father was angry, had her crucified to punish her (see my poem "St. Wilgefortis," "there she hung in red gabardine, hair on her chin"). One particularly poignant painting of her is by Hieronymus Bosch, his Crucifixion of St. Julia, sometimes also referred to as the Crucifixion of St. Wilgefortis.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #450c02;">On a trip to France in 1986 I visited the Abbey of Charlieu in Burgundy. There I was able to tour the <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4kPQ7SGtKQ4/XG2EjTPjfhI/AAAAAAACSSo/vhrZODczIBMltACug-_uWPJvodzY9nV4QCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_20190220_092616.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1038" height="200" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4kPQ7SGtKQ4/XG2EjTPjfhI/AAAAAAACSSo/vhrZODczIBMltACug-_uWPJvodzY9nV4QCLcBGAs/s200/IMG_20190220_092616.jpg" width="129" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Detail, Abbey of Charlieu</td></tr>
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ruins with an amiable guide, a woman who pointed out to me all the details I shouldn't miss. Like the sculptural relief of a woman with a frog suckling her breast (see my poem "The Woman of Charlieu"). It was explained to me that this was a warning against the pleasures of sex, what would happen to the transgressor, in this case the woman's punishment in hell would be very grave indeed ("the snake curling around her legs, a sign the woman had been in sin").</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8CmwHfkkSiw/XG2G3BbJOiI/AAAAAAACSS0/SdVs0zTmoIEEKt8kNw8RALTxeu0dkmyPQCLcBGAs/s1600/800px-Duchamp_-_Nude_Descending_a_Staircase.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1319" data-original-width="800" height="200" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8CmwHfkkSiw/XG2G3BbJOiI/AAAAAAACSS0/SdVs0zTmoIEEKt8kNw8RALTxeu0dkmyPQCLcBGAs/s200/800px-Duchamp_-_Nude_Descending_a_Staircase.jpg" width="121" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marcel Duchamp,<br />
Nude Descending<br />
a Staircase No. 2, 1912</td></tr>
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<span style="color: #450c02;">My heroine in feminist art might be Marcel Duchamp's "Nude Descending the Staircase," referenced by another poem in my collection ("Duchamp's Nude Descending the Staircase"). At least that was my interpretation, as in this poem I imagined myself facing the challenges of advanced age ("her bones less dense, they said"), how it was a miracle really one can keep climbing and descending those stairs ("her daily descent into the ordinary").</span><br />
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<span style="color: #450c02;"><br /></span>slopoethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02776866768826145757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4893577596733269743.post-19839255627117253092019-02-19T20:10:00.000-08:002019-02-19T20:41:14.715-08:00Ekphrastic Poetry: Part OneFred Marchant said of many of the poems in my book <a href="http://slopoet.blogspot.com/p/will-there-be-music.html" target="_blank"><i>Will There Be Music?</i> </a>that one might "call these poems ekphrastic...[or] an extended ode to the imagination and its many forms of expression." One of the goals of writing ekphrastic poems is to make them stand alone, to succeed without needing to see the work of art that is being written about. But no one can deny it is a pleasure to see both of them together, though few books of poetry come with illustrations.<br />
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I thought it would be fun to reveal some of the works of art that I was writing about in the twenty-four (my count) ekphrastic poems in my book. So this is Part One. In each part I will talk about a few of the poems, and reveal their inspiration.<br />
<br />
"Paroxysms"<br />
This poem is about my first year of college, when I was given permission to take three whole quarters of an upper-division class in Renaissance Art. The poem compares the paintings of the Mannerists, Madonnas with "elongated necks and twisted limbs" and those of their predecessors such as Raphael, "how the sweetness unnerved them." Two of Raphael's paintings are mentioned, Madonna of the Cardinal and Madonna of the Goldfinch. And in the final stanza, the landscape changes to that of "Rogier van der Weyden and the Hospice de Beaune." These are all references to paintings I later saw in my travels to Italy and France.<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://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kMBsLK3IcAM/XGzNeY-aliI/AAAAAAACSQE/btGiQiA_GPYu9Zb4u1fFP5cnw4cTVRJSwCLcBGAs/s1600/Parmigianino_-_Madonna_dal_collo_lungo_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1287" data-original-width="800" height="200" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kMBsLK3IcAM/XGzNeY-aliI/AAAAAAACSQE/btGiQiA_GPYu9Zb4u1fFP5cnw4cTVRJSwCLcBGAs/s200/Parmigianino_-_Madonna_dal_collo_lungo_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg" width="123" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Parmagianino, Madonna <br />
with the Long Neck</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Raphael, Madonna <br />
of the Cardinal</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nicolas Rolin, detail of <br />
Rogier van der Weyden's <br />
Last Judgment, Hospice de <br />
Beaune</td></tr>
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Nicolas Rolin was the man who founded the Hospice de Beaune. He also commissioned another famous work of art by Jan Van Eyck, The Virgin and Child with Chancellor Rolin, in which he is pictured seated with the Madonna and child. This work is referred to in another of my poems, "Chancellor Rolin Transported Downtown." In 2011 I decided to write a poem about a work of art to be featured in the Madison Art Society's annual show at the Scranton Library in Madison, Connecticut. This was part of a regular collaboration between the Society and the Guilford Poets Guild. I chose a pastel by Christine Ivers entitled "Empty Bed." I was intrigued by the title, and the way the man in the foreground was eyeing the nudes in an art gallery from his vantage point outside, looking through the window at night. My interpretation was that this was his consolation for having an "empty bed" at home. But what also captivated me was the way the whole thing reminded me of the Van Eyck painting. They both used three arches as a sort of motif. That was just the starting point as I ended up inventing a whole story that transcends many centuries, imagining Rolin as suddenly a modern figure who had once posed for a painting with a woman he knew...("We were playacting, she was a local model and the child, not hers"). There is another connection between the two works of art. The Christ child holds what is commonly referred to as an "orb and cross." If you turn this image upside down you get something that looks like the feminine symbol. And there is such a feminine symbol on the window of the art gallery in Ivers' work ("The insignia of Venus hanging over the entrance"). Here ends Part One.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christine Ivers, Empty Bed,<br />
pastel (by permission of the<br />
artist)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jan Van Eyck, Virgin<br />
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<br />slopoethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02776866768826145757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4893577596733269743.post-5531098786357200202019-01-23T21:05:00.001-08:002019-01-24T05:02:20.585-08:00Will There Be Music?You heard it right here, my new poetry book <i>Will There Be Music? </i>has just been published by Cherry Grove Collections, and is now available from Amazon. See a special page I created on this blog,<a href="http://slopoet.blogspot.com/p/will-there-be-music.html?m=0" target="_blank"> "New Book for 2019,"</a> for more information about it!slopoethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02776866768826145757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4893577596733269743.post-40503447884167874862018-10-09T20:12:00.002-07:002018-10-10T20:26:28.327-07:00London and Cornwall, Devon, the Cotswolds September 2018<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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A short trip for us in mid-September. First, a few days in London visiting the Tate (not the Tate Modern but Tate Britain, first time there in many years), and traveling past Regents Park via canal boat from Little Venice to Camden Lock.<br />
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Then we joined a group (14 people) with Go Tours, led by a young man named Glenn who, we think, IS Go Tours! Incredible driver, which we were grateful for in the fog in the wilds of Dartmoor. Oncoming traffic meeting us, on one-lane roads with hedges either side, was a thrilling experience. The itinerary listed a lot of places, but it was really quite leisurely most of the time. The first day we stopped at Stonehenge, which, because you can't really view it by yourself, on a dawn morning, you just have to imagine it that way. (I probably spent more time there on my visit in 1981). We then spent several hours in <br />
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Salisbury, another place I had been before, but a first time for Bill. Beautiful sun-shiny day, the gorgeous cathedral amazing inside and out, the Magna Carta, and really good food in the Refectory, surrounded by glass revealing the yellow stone of the cathedral's flank. Late afternoon we drifted around on the meadows above the Durdle Door on Devon's Jurassic Coast.<br />
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The second day we started out from Exeter, drove across Dartmoor, got out of the bus to pet some lovely wild ponies, some nice stops as well at Princetown (where The Hound of the Baskervilles was written) and Tavistock (a pleasant lunch in a market town). Afternoon stops at Polperro (a little too touristy) and Charlestown (a Poldark filming location) were adequate to give us some of the flavor of Cornwall fishing villages, and then we bedded down at our hotel in Falmouth.<br />
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The third day we drove a short distance to St. Ives, where we were dropped off right at the door to the Tate St. Ives, which is not only a lovely museum, but has fantastic views of the ocean and the town (in different directions). I also had time to walk down to the water's edge and get my feet wet and sandy. We stopped for a short visit to the Botallack Mines, another Poldark filming location on the green coast, but the highlight of the day was the Minack Theatre, hewn out of the rock by a crazy (!) and devoted woman. Plays are performed there at a breaktaking<br />
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location overlooking an azure bay. The last stop wasn't shabby either, Saint Michael's Mount, and we got there in time before the tide came in, so we could walk a good way on the causeway.<br />
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The fourth day started in the morning at Padstow, one of the nicest villages we saw in Cornwall. Reminded me of Honfleur, in Normandy, a bassin (harbor), peaceful, sparkling. Lovely also was the town of Port Isaac. Didn't matter there were jillions of folks walking up and down the paths to see Doc Martin's infirmary, it was a fantastic setting (as one knows seeing the program on TV). Had a leisurely lunch there at "Louise's school." Late afternoon we spent at Tintagel, <br />
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not enough time there, really, unless one has legs of a twenty-year-old, but I managed to walk up to the old church. Bill and I had dinner at a pleasant French restaurant across the plaza from Exeter's cathedral (where we heard even-song).<br />
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The fifth day began in Bath. We had time to tour the Roman Baths, stunning, and have a nice lunch in the Pump Room. Then Glenn drove us to two Cotswold villages, well-chosen, the first was Castle Combe (its church and churchyard very restful) and Bibury, which has very old weavers' cottages that are pictured on every English person's passport.<br />
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Our last two days in London we spent one long lunch at the London Review Bookstore, and the next day went to the National War Museum. Have a new favorite restaurant in London (although we also went back to the estimable Cantina Laredo)--it's Margaux on the Old Brompton Road, very friendly and relaxing and incredible food.<br />
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<br />slopoethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02776866768826145757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4893577596733269743.post-77452431650105496082018-09-01T14:05:00.003-07:002018-09-01T14:07:38.402-07:00Summer 2018<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
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Once summer was underway it was June (somehow spring was a blur of mostly rainy days!). We had a great time with Elena and Marina in New York City, lunch on the East River, took the ferry to Staten Island, then met up with Karen for dinner at Boqueria. They were going to see the play "Come From Away," whereas Bill and I made our way back to L'ville.<br />
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This summer we spent a long time in Gilmanton, from July 6 to mid-August. On the way we stopped in Guilford at Sound Reach. A few days later was the service at Loon Pond for Nancy Ball. We had great visits with Steve and Vicki and the rest of the Gilmanton regulars. In late July I drove down to Chester, Connecticut for our annual Chester Conference. We had probably the best year ever, amazing poems, some new<br />
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members, perfect weather. After the conference I made an appearance at the annual General Andrew Ward Cemetery Association, my first attendance in several years. On our way home to L'ville we stopped in at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston to see an exquisite exhibition featuring Casanova. Dinner in Wellesley, overnight at the Warren Conference in Ashland, Massachusetts. Then back home in New Jersey we had a little over two weeks to prepare for our trip to London/Cornwall, coming up. In the meantime, more preparations were made for the mysterious new publication--hint, it's called <i>Will There Be Music?</i>slopoethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02776866768826145757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4893577596733269743.post-52990787339859277302018-03-10T13:11:00.002-08:002018-07-04T05:44:34.225-07:00Fall 2017 into the New Year 2018<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With Jim and Juditha in Ocean Grove</td></tr>
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In early October I went with Juditha and Jim to Ocean Grove (we were reading poems at an event in Long Branch and decided to make it an overnight). The next morning we had brunch in town, then went for a long walk, Juditha and Jim giving me a first-rate tour of the area where they had once lived. The next week we had the delightful experience of watching over our very grownup nieces in Arlington while their mother spent a long weekend in New Orleans. They really did all the hard parts, we just looked on...! For Thanksgiving we flew to Buffalo on a very skinny plane (more storage under the seats than in the overhead compartments). We watched four members of the Rados family compete in the annual Turkey Trot, and did serious sightseeing in the burgeoning Buffalo metropolis. Back home I read with the Cools at a "Talk Turkey" themed reading at the Highland Park Library.<br />
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After a quiet Christmas at home, we stepped out in NYC for a few days before the New Year. The first day we met our friend Helga briefly at her show at the Nailya Alexander Gallery, had dinner at L'Artusi, and saw a terrific play "School Girls." The next day we had lunch with Eddie, Wendy and Alex, and then dinner with Joel and Susan at The Tartinery, followed by a performance by Artek at Old St. Patrick's. On the third day we had dinner at Loring Place and went to a performance by Tenet of Monteverdi at St. Joseph's. Back home on New Year's Eve (no Times Square for us!). In late January we took a day trip to Wilmington, Delaware, saw Chris Schopfer's factory, had lunch at De La Coeur Cafe, and went to the John Sloan exhibition at the Delaware Art Museum.<br />
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In early February we flew to Long Beach, stayed with Janet in Laguna Beach a few days, had dinner with Kent's family, a quick visit with SMHS friend Joan, then stayed for a few days at an Air Bnb in Pasadena, had brunch with Ed and Gipsy, a few meals and a visit to the Italian American Museum in L.A. with Kirk and Melinda, plus our annual visit to <br />
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Santa Anita with Mimi. Back home in time for Valentine's dinner with Bill at Enoterra.<br />
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Then we had big plans to go to DC but slopoet contracted a bad cold, don't even ask, the next few weeks were a blur. Except that in moments of brief health she attended one class, one session of book group, took the train to NY to attend another Tenet concert at St Luke's, and performed a few poems with the Cools at the New Brunswick Library (themed reading was "Mud Season"). Followed by a relapse of sorts. It's now mid-March, life will start picking up again. I'm certain of that. For anyone actually following this blog, there is a real surprise coming up soon involving publication of a certain book.</div>
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slopoethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02776866768826145757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4893577596733269743.post-16195166205689080202017-08-28T13:24:00.001-07:002017-08-28T13:40:42.245-07:00Summer 2017Flying to Zurich was a great idea, we really enjoyed our stays there at the beginning and end of our trip in June. After Zurich we headed south to Bologna, dinner at Ristorante al Sangiovese for old time's sake. Then we reported to the Villa Torre alle Tolfe outside of Siena for the 9-day seminar led by my old professor/director Giuseppe Mammarella.<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://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fIT_r27_bBk/WaR5bta4u0I/AAAAAAAB5I8/5-jHQqMsKmMOaHYvWoXSQPsY0rPHr_sPACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_20170620_122745.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fIT_r27_bBk/WaR5bta4u0I/AAAAAAAB5I8/5-jHQqMsKmMOaHYvWoXSQPsY0rPHr_sPACLcBGAs/s200/IMG_20170620_122745.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pinturicchio fresco in <br />
Piccolomini Library in <br />
Siena's Duomo</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oX-GwmeNLpI/WaR474_EbLI/AAAAAAAB5I0/7J1jkB5r-Sw1bz8BPVVn9fx_B226d_4uwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1645.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1032" height="200" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oX-GwmeNLpI/WaR474_EbLI/AAAAAAAB5I0/7J1jkB5r-Sw1bz8BPVVn9fx_B226d_4uwCLcBGAs/s200/IMG_1645.JPG" width="127" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Giuseppe Mammarella</td></tr>
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A shame there was a heat wave on at the same time, made some of the touring somewhat arduous. We really enjoyed meals with the group, trips to Siena, Lucca, Florence, Arezzo and Montalcino, and classes back at the villa (Italian film, Political Science, Art, and even Italian lessons, the advanced class for me).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DD7oPGx-6SA/WaR5LgSdpDI/AAAAAAAB5I4/lxWQpvCUEY45B7u2laNgUVSwliw0KXV6QCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_20170623_105516.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DD7oPGx-6SA/WaR5LgSdpDI/AAAAAAAB5I4/lxWQpvCUEY45B7u2laNgUVSwliw0KXV6QCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_20170623_105516.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the new Stanford campus in Florence</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pqo3fPPIllc/WaR5wALSM4I/AAAAAAAB5JA/dgciclZsb8QwoiIqMJ_kIfW_wqlFl_DogCLcBGAs/s1600/DSC_0496.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="212" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pqo3fPPIllc/WaR5wALSM4I/AAAAAAAB5JA/dgciclZsb8QwoiIqMJ_kIfW_wqlFl_DogCLcBGAs/s320/DSC_0496.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Il Gruppo di 2017</td></tr>
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After the seminar was over, we rented a car (wanted a Volvo, were given an Alfa Romeo, not really ideal for dirt roads...!) and set off for Country House Montali (our last visit had been in 2010 so we were long overdue). This whole trip was really a celebration of our ten-year anniversary, a little late. The pool at Montali was really welcome in the heat and the food was as good as ever. We made short trips, one to Perugia, another to Panicale to see again the room where we were married.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GNgYPed_PZ4/WaR6xyHVvLI/AAAAAAAB5JM/sJIYVfV2Iv4mtOlCOFyCsnWYRqWPz41qACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_20170629_121801.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1201" height="200" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GNgYPed_PZ4/WaR6xyHVvLI/AAAAAAAB5JM/sJIYVfV2Iv4mtOlCOFyCsnWYRqWPz41qACLcBGAs/s200/IMG_20170629_121801.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Portrait of Masolino<br />
in Panicale Town Hall</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AzMMH8raWQU/WaR68T235eI/AAAAAAAB5JQ/p4zxHVk7xnUmLgr3DQiUxodH-IbFuDG7gCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_20170629_110218.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1197" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AzMMH8raWQU/WaR68T235eI/AAAAAAAB5JQ/p4zxHVk7xnUmLgr3DQiUxodH-IbFuDG7gCLcBGAs/s200/IMG_20170629_110218.jpg" width="149" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Perugino's Madonna<br />
and Child in Fontignano</td></tr>
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When this part was done, we took the train to Milan, another great dinner at Hostaria al Borromei, and the next day boarded the Bernina Express for stunning views of the Swiss countryside on the way back to Zurich. One of the Siena seminar group lives in Zurich so we spent some time with her on our last day, as well as visiting James Joyce's grave.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QIDJpX7Zvzc/WaR7YWTu7RI/AAAAAAAB5JU/G5eildnskfg27d899EWZTIV_Sm0MorGmgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_20170703_115438.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1197" data-original-width="1600" height="149" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QIDJpX7Zvzc/WaR7YWTu7RI/AAAAAAAB5JU/G5eildnskfg27d899EWZTIV_Sm0MorGmgCLcBGAs/s200/IMG_20170703_115438.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">James Joyce, Zurich</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5Q5OlIsAK_Y/WaR7bN1NDgI/AAAAAAAB5JY/hxZ_iA7TyHQ34ZjdJuEuuS3wMGcoTGWLACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_20170703_133822.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1197" data-original-width="1600" height="149" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5Q5OlIsAK_Y/WaR7bN1NDgI/AAAAAAAB5JY/hxZ_iA7TyHQ34ZjdJuEuuS3wMGcoTGWLACLcBGAs/s200/IMG_20170703_133822.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bill and Betty Gerson, lunch in Zurich</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Hp-WUIjZa4U/WaR7qZmELxI/AAAAAAAB5Jc/r7pGdl_PtOYS72O3HX8lgZE5w46GS7eIQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_20170704_182124.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1514" data-original-width="1600" height="188" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Hp-WUIjZa4U/WaR7qZmELxI/AAAAAAAB5Jc/r7pGdl_PtOYS72O3HX8lgZE5w46GS7eIQCLcBGAs/s200/IMG_20170704_182124.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dinner at Olea in Brooklyn <br />
on our way home from Europe</td></tr>
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I wasn't home very long before it was time to go to Chester again with my special poetry friends. Refreshment for the mind before our month in Gilmanton. Which has just now concluded. I would say the highlight of Gilmanton this year was my winning the annual croquet match. So I am up-to-date for once. Always an article for the Genealogical Magazine of New Jersey to finish--the current one is our fifth in the series and due to come out in mid-September.slopoethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02776866768826145757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4893577596733269743.post-61522333376061710112017-05-08T19:05:00.003-07:002017-05-08T19:09:31.160-07:00Winter 2017<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rovzF4Y0qkU/WREhBCiDOtI/AAAAAAABvh8/FipIEqszK48Y_z0Ma3WpsTdMRVvsl6GrQCLcB/s1600/volume%2Bsix%2Bcover.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rovzF4Y0qkU/WREhBCiDOtI/AAAAAAABvh8/FipIEqszK48Y_z0Ma3WpsTdMRVvsl6GrQCLcB/s320/volume%2Bsix%2Bcover.png" width="221" /></a></div>
Beginning December 7 with the launch of Volume Six of the Cool Women Anthology series, the Cool Women have been performing at a fever pitch, doing two more readings in March, and two in April. All our activities are up on our website at <a href="http://coolwomenpoets.org/" target="_blank">http://coolwomenpoets.org</a>. In between this activity Chris Schopfer and I were getting out our third article in the Genealogical Magazine of New Jersey (it came out in January). Lois, Judy, and Juditha (of the Cools) and I participated in the Women's March in Trenton on January 21 (8,000 strong).<br />
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Then Bill and I headed to California on January 31, this time Southern California only, nice visits in the Pasadena area with our friend Mimi (Santa Anita races), Kirk and Melinda (saw their new home, and stopped in at Melinda's new workplace at the Washington Elementary School library in San Gabriel), and had dinner with Ed and Gypsy Bergstrom. With Fran and Roger we toured the Villa Aurora in Pacific Palisades, home of Lion Feuchtwanger, exiled German writer, and then went to the Los <br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-42SaUCsZ9lg/WREji1o2d3I/AAAAAAABviQ/gwbdJj0VM4wWa3BMjDZLVl-_UMhPT2i8ACLcB/s1600/IMG_20170203_111510.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-42SaUCsZ9lg/WREji1o2d3I/AAAAAAABviQ/gwbdJj0VM4wWa3BMjDZLVl-_UMhPT2i8ACLcB/s320/IMG_20170203_111510.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Library at Villa Aurora</td></tr>
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Angeles County Museum of Art. My sister and I went to the Casa Romantica in San Clemente, home of Ole Hanson, founder of the city, and then I went back there a few days later with Bill. We drove down to San Diego to spend the last few days of our vacation. One day we went to the San Diego Museum of Art in Balboa Park, and another day was spent walking the beach at the La Jolla Shores. We also paid a sunset visit to Sunset Cliffs. Back home February 13.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9eYWGyEL6is/WREjvKBZPCI/AAAAAAABviU/ii66EGjlbswqx3BXDJt2peDtqDHuYS7dwCLcB/s1600/IMG_20170211_131020.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9eYWGyEL6is/WREjvKBZPCI/AAAAAAABviU/ii66EGjlbswqx3BXDJt2peDtqDHuYS7dwCLcB/s320/IMG_20170211_131020.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">San Diego Museum of Art</td></tr>
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<br />
On March 9, I read to a very special group of friends from Guilford (many came from the Guilford Poets Guild, the sponsor) at the Guilford Free Library. It was a lovely place to read, and the audience was especially lively. It was taped for the local cable TV station and can be viewed <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZVMa4hNwPJ8&index=1&list=FLmz9AqYTRp8oTxHj-ZQnU8Q&t=437s" target="_blank">here.</a><br />
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Volume four of our genealogical series is soon to be out. Flowers are finally blooming here in New Jersey (also our heat is still on, I notice!)--it's May for goodness sake. Yesterday Bill and I were in the city to hear Parthenia (group of viola da gambists) perform at St. Luke in the Fields, and dinner in the Village at Dell'Anima. Getting ready for our getaway in June, to Siena.<br />
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<br />slopoethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02776866768826145757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4893577596733269743.post-20169892958659841112016-12-01T08:37:00.001-08:002016-12-01T08:37:08.841-08:00Fall 2016My sister and I took off on the same day, September 27, she from Los Angeles and I from Newark. We arrived in Berlin a little over an hour apart. Highlights were the boat tour on the Spree, Max Liebermann's villa, my visit to Die Brücke Museum featuring paintings by Emil Nolde, dinners with Tyler and Kathi.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fPKSTmEw_AU/WEBQBNf532I/AAAAAAABnhI/gptqxzO-zLkoSs7r3ShkWN5sAn4TTQNCACLcB/s1600/IMG_20161003_142600.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fPKSTmEw_AU/WEBQBNf532I/AAAAAAABnhI/gptqxzO-zLkoSs7r3ShkWN5sAn4TTQNCACLcB/s320/IMG_20161003_142600.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mjällby Church</td></tr>
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On to Sweden, starting with an overnight in <span style="font-family: inherit;">Malmö, then we drove to Solvesborg, visited the church where our great-grandparents were married (</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Mjällby), and roamed around the gorgeous farmland, even stopped here and there at the coast. We stayed the next night at</span> Bäckaskog Slott (“slott” means castle) where our great-grandfather just might have worked as King Karl XV’s wine steward.<br />
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The next day we drove to Lake Vättern and another castle to stay in, Västanå Slott. Woke up to a beautiful day for our next day of visits to locations for our great-grandparents on father’s maternal side. We visited the churches where the two of them were baptised, one in Ödeshög (our great-grandfather) and one at Stora Åby (our great-grandmother). She had grown up in Amundeby, and he in Kushult, both small villages of fewer than 5 farms. We found both places, and were welcomed by current neighbors into their homes, near where our family’s farms were located.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cw_-jL1CwE4/WEBQR5bZP-I/AAAAAAABnhM/Oe4qfclv0ZM4NpIOjbwtGNALwmj64mwQQCLcB/s1600/IMG_20161005_105453.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cw_-jL1CwE4/WEBQR5bZP-I/AAAAAAABnhM/Oe4qfclv0ZM4NpIOjbwtGNALwmj64mwQQCLcB/s320/IMG_20161005_105453.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stora Åby Church</td></tr>
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We took the train to Stockholm, my first visit there. We went to Uppsala for the day with Corinne, then she came back with us to Stockholm. Highlights for me walking on the island Djurgården (visiting two art museums, Prince Eugen’s house and Thielsket Galleriet), and exploring Södermalm, where our great-grandparents had married (at Katarina Kyrka) and lived (Lotsgatan neighborhood) before <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dMQ86cXIu1g/WEBQlrv5Y3I/AAAAAAABnhU/OVVi7BQynIA5Bz5F3j4O2rhgxtUbrnDiACLcB/s1600/IMG_20161008_105725.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dMQ86cXIu1g/WEBQlrv5Y3I/AAAAAAABnhU/OVVi7BQynIA5Bz5F3j4O2rhgxtUbrnDiACLcB/s320/IMG_20161008_105725.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Prince Eugen’s house</td></tr>
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they came to America.<br />
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Janet and I took the night ferry from Stockholm to Estonia, arriving the next morning. We had a wonderful guided tour of Talinn, visiting the old city (at both upper and lower elevations), Kadriorg Park, and the amphitheater where the famous choral festivals are held. The next day I went to the City Museum, which had five floors.<br />
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The next day we took the ferry to Helsinki, where we spent two nights. I spent my full day there exploring the park where the Sibelius Monument was located, and visiting the Ateneum, Helsinki’s wonderful art museum. We flew home on October 15, all-in-all an <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RTM7aBG1JAY/WEBQ-Rfx4eI/AAAAAAABnhY/eXf0QRYsWR8P-sn2nu1rQo5CKdfu20YUgCLcB/s1600/IMG_20161014_115804.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="209" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RTM7aBG1JAY/WEBQ-Rfx4eI/AAAAAAABnhY/eXf0QRYsWR8P-sn2nu1rQo5CKdfu20YUgCLcB/s320/IMG_20161014_115804.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cafe Regatta, Helsinki</td></tr>
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envigorating trip.<br />
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Not home for long, though, Bill and I flew out to Portland, Oregon for a four-day trip including a stay in Dufur, where our friend Penelope has her writing house. To get there we drove up the Columbia River Gorge, a place I hadn’t been in a long time. On the way we stopped at Multnomah Falls, always a thrill. Back in Portland the Cool Women gave a reading at Penelope’s house, a series called The White Dog Salon, the reason for our visit. My college friend Peggy was able to go, and we also had a good visit with her and Bill at their <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6wytTG6ybI4/WEBRS-6GPNI/AAAAAAABnhc/MVQkbvkiAGk631bciyVfe621AUuRdNMsACLcB/s1600/IMG_20161106_065633.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="174" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6wytTG6ybI4/WEBRS-6GPNI/AAAAAAABnhc/MVQkbvkiAGk631bciyVfe621AUuRdNMsACLcB/s320/IMG_20161106_065633.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mt. Hood from Dufur, Oregon</td></tr>
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house in Portland.<br />
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Our next jaunt was to Buffalo for Thanksgiving. On the way we stayed in Horseheads, New York, to break up the trip. In Buffalo one day Phil drove us to Niagara Falls, another place known to me only from childhood memory. On the way home we stopped off at Seneca Falls, visited the Women’s Rights National Historical Park, then stayed overnight in Ithaca, espresso at Gimme Coffee and dinner at Moosehead Restaurant. The next day on our way home I engineered a detour to Walpack Center, the village left behind but mercifully never submerged by a failed dam project. This was the place my mother came to visit her cousin as a child. I found this cousin’s grandparents’ graves in the local cemetery. Our last stop was in nearby Branchville where we found Broad Street Books, a fabulous used bookstore.<br />
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slopoethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02776866768826145757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4893577596733269743.post-83839708790596056012016-08-29T12:32:00.001-07:002016-08-29T12:36:08.747-07:00Mid 2016<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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May 2016 will be remembered as the date of publication (in the <i>Genealogical Magazine of New Jersey</i>) of my first genealogical article, co-authored with collaborator Chris Schopfer, about New Jersey founder William Sandford, who received in 1668 a crown grant of 30,000 acres in the area of New Jersey now called New Barbadoes Neck. Sandford was always referred to as an Englishman from Barbados, but no one had solved his parentage. Chris and I slogged through various pathways to find William Sandford baptised in Hamburg, Germany in 1637, the son of Thomas Sandford, a merchant adventurer. We are on schedule for part two of this saga, which should appear in the September issue of <i>GMNJ</i>.<br />
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In June we spent a fun day in Philadelphia, precisely on June 16, Bloomsday. We attended much of the annual reading of Joyce's <i>Ulysses</i> held outside the Rosenbach Museum and Library. Local opera singers rounded out the program by performing songs which appear in the book, including a thrilling rendition of "La Ci Darem La Mano."<br />
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This year in Gilmanton I found myself the featured poet at Bill Donahue's Scriven Arts Colony on <br />
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August 6, a reading in front of many old Gilmanton friends and family in the Donahue family barn. This was a very special place to read, a night to remember. The very next day I drove down to Chester, CT to meet with the formidable Chester Conference Group (we change our name at will...). We eight poets read at the Maple and Main Gallery in downtown Chester on Wednesday night August 10, where one of us, the incomparable Gray Jacobik, was also having a solo exhibit of her paintings.<br />
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Remember August 23, 2016 as the date my lovely condo at Long Hill Farm was finally sold!! No more for me the life of the landlord, biting my nails until the next repair might be needed. Lovely to own only one house at a time. I'm still waiting to drink the bottle of Brunello di Montalcino my realtor gave me to celebrate. It was rattling around in the trunk of my car as we were coming home from Gilmanton. Perhaps I'll wait til the eve of my departure on the next planned trip, which you will soon hear about in the forthcoming installment of this blog. It involves Swedish ancestors and...my sister, that's all you'll get from me at this point.slopoethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02776866768826145757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4893577596733269743.post-57962007029837582272016-04-11T11:31:00.004-07:002016-08-29T10:42:59.485-07:00Beginning of 2016<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://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tGninRNEkYU/Vwvs0b8LTVI/AAAAAAABbfI/-4oOTRTUKf0_WaDHaErPPWkJwECBx-rBw/s1600/IMG_20160202_152833.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tGninRNEkYU/Vwvs0b8LTVI/AAAAAAABbfI/-4oOTRTUKf0_WaDHaErPPWkJwECBx-rBw/s200/IMG_20160202_152833.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from top of Clock Tower</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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As usual we began the year with a visit to California, not without missing the only major snowstorm of the season (ca. 18 in. of snow locally just before we left). We started in Northern California, the first day I had lunch at Spalti's in Palo Alto (a private room in the back) with a huge group of retired librarian friends. We went to two splendid concerts in PA, one to hear Voices of Music at All Saints Episcopal church, and the other was Quicksilver at First Presbyterian. One day while Bill was playing bridge I drove to Half Moon Bay, sat huddled against some rocks out of the wind to observe brave souls on the beach. Somehow we fit in lunch with Holly and Town, coffee with Ethan, and dinner with the old poetry group at Bistro Vida in Menlo Park.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bart's Books, Ojai</td></tr>
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Then we joined Gil and Joan on the Coast Starlight, probably the first time I had taken this train since I was a young woman. Beautiful scenery from the observation car as we glided past Elkhorn Slough, the green hills above San Luis Obispo (including a great view of La Cuesta Grade), and finally along the ocean on our way to Santa Barbara. We were met by Roger and Fran, and the next day the six of us toured the city, lunch at State and Fig, and going up to the top of the Clock Tower for an amazing view. The next day we all drove to Meinert Oaks (part of Ojai) and had lunch at Farmer and the Cook Organic Market, sitting outside on their expansive patio. On to Ojai and Bart's Books, the World's Greatest Outdoor Bookstore (well, some of it is indoors, of course).<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At Buster's</td></tr>
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We drove down to Pasadena to stay with Mimi, and one day we had lunch with Kirk and Melinda at Lincoln bakery in a soon-to-be-upscale (?) neighborhood of Pasadena bordering on Altadena. They also showed us Arlington Gardens, a little-known free park with sitting areas under the trees. We had coffee with Kathleen at Jones Coffee, a favorite. A tradition also was attending Santa Anita, this time with Mimi and Kirk (Mimi had the best day, finishing on the plus side). Melinda joined us for dinner at Gale's. On our last day we had brunch with Ed and Gipsy, and Meredith Taylor from my SMHS class at the old Huntington Hotel (now the Langham).<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emerald Bay</td></tr>
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Was it too much to ask to just do practically nothing at Janet's in Emerald Bay for three whole days? Weather was perfect. On the way to LAX we discovered a new lunch place in Long Beach called <br />
Berlin.<br />
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In late February I took a very quick trip down to D.C. on the train so I could join Janet and Karen to see Elena and Marina perform in a local production of <i>South Pacific. </i>Their somersaults were highlights of the show. In March it was a treat to hear Bob Hass read at Princeton. Later that month I read with the Ragged Sky anthology poets (from the coffee and chocolate book <i>Dark as a Hazel Eye</i>) at the Mulberry branch library on the lower East Side. We had lunch at Tartine and then returned there after the reading for a snack with Jay and Maxine.<br />
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In April there were two Cool Women readings, one at the Franklin branch of the Somerset library, the second at the Hopewell branch in Pennington. Both were a lot of fun, especially the second one, which had a huge turnout even though it was raining, and I also performed as moderator for the first time. In the middle of that same week Kent and his family arrived in Princeton (Erika looking at colleges on the East Coast), and we had a very quick visit over lunch, and were also able to fit in a stop at our house on the way to Trenton Station. slopoethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02776866768826145757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4893577596733269743.post-35077867401605646282016-01-15T20:35:00.001-08:002016-01-27T08:43:58.123-08:00Second Half of 2015<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lunch with Corinne at Hudson Eats</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whitehall Building</td></tr>
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In early July we went to a great exhibit of Folk Music at the Museum of the City of New York (a few albums on display were ones I own), and then toured the new Whitney Museum. At the end of July our beloved Corinne came to visit us. She was game for everything. We went bicycling (twice!) and she joined me at the U.S. 1 workshop. She brought a poem that was critiqued with great reviews by my poetry friends. I took her on our special route to New York, via ferry from Jersey City. We walked along the Hudson River, went to the Museum of Jewish Heritage, then met Bill and ferried over to Staten Island, and later had dinner at Sant Ambroeus. The day she left I drove up to Chester, spent a week carousing with our very special group for its fifth year.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Drew Farm</td></tr>
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Then on to Gilmanton, lots of croquet, swimming, a day at Ogunquit, Old Home Day, and a special visit with my old family friends Steve and Vicki, who have bought a home over in Gilford, such a coincidence! Bill and I started a new tradition by attending a concert at Castle Hill in Ipswich. In the afternoon we visited the John Whipple House and the Heard Mansion across the street. An added bonus, we drove to Smith Point at Manchester-by-the-Sea and found Alfred Perkins Rockwell's home (Bill's great-grandfather) and even spent a few moments on the beach nearby (which Bill remembered visiting as a boy). The next day I drove to the Florence Griswold Museum to participate in their Tour in Verse program, reading my poem "The Bass Have Vanished" after a painting "Hell Gate" by Michael John Boog.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cool Women Poets</td></tr>
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In September, as a new member of the Cool Women Poets, I performed with them at the Macculloch Hall Historical Museum in Morristown, and then later in October at the St. James A.M.E. Church in Hightstown. <br />
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In early October Bill and I took one of the Hackensack River cruises, this one down the Hackensack to where it meets the Passaic in Newark Bay. Earlier in the day we found William Carlos Williams' house in Rutherford. It was the day the firehouse was having some sort of anniversary and about hundred police car sirens and fire truck horns were blaring all at once.<br />
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In mid-October we joined the Chester group again, this time in Washington, D.C. where Anne's play "Hannah Alive" was being performed (in Silver Spring). We managed to squeeze in a workshop, visited with Karen and Fede and the girls, went to the Newseum and attended a concert at the Folger Library.<br />
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In late October Peggy and Bill, who were driving across America on an amazing trip, stopped to stay with us for a couple of days. We had a great walk along the canal, had dinner at the Blue Point Grill, and the next day Peggy especially loved Grounds for Sculpture. When they left, Audrey and David arrived. Of course, they wanted to go to Grounds for Sculpture too--by this time I can give anyone their own personal guided tour.<br />
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For my birthday we went to Carnegie Hall to hear the St. Lawrence Quartet, and stayed for the first time in an Air Bnb, this one was in an interesting Art Deco building on Exchange Place in lower Manhattan. For Bill's birthday we got to go to NY again, of course. We had brunch at Marco and Pepe's in Jersey City, then had dinner at Boqueria, and heard Artek at Immanuel Lutheran Church. A week later we had dinner with Carolyn and other friends and heard the Dryden Quartet at the Miller Chapel.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Full Moon Cafe in Lambertville</td></tr>
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For Christmas Eve this year we did something different. We ferried to NY again, had dinner at Po in the Village, then saw Little Girl Blue (about Janis Joplin) at Lincoln Center theater, and spent the night at the Warwick. It was a beautiful sunny Christmas morning walking around midtown, then we came home to open presents. A few days later we had a special visit with Karen and the girls, took them to Jammin' Crepes, Jazam's toy store, and Labyrinth Books. The next day we spent in Lambertville, having lunch at the Full Moon, then Karen went off to NY and we had the girls all by ourselves. They were great fun to be with. The next morning we headed off to NY, met Karen, had lunch at the Urbanspace Vanderbilt Food Hall, and hung out at the New York Public Library and Bryant Park.<br />
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On January 2 we went to a ceremony dedicated to the soldiers who fought the Battle of Princeton (in 1777). And the day before was the Rose Bowl, these days watched by us on the television instead of in the stands. This year was especially nice, seeing the Stanford Cardinal, and Christian McCaffrey, have an almost perfect game, beating Iowa 45-16.slopoethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02776866768826145757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4893577596733269743.post-17873001364746401332015-06-15T19:50:00.002-07:002015-06-15T19:50:24.081-07:00First Half of 2015<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Posing in the Bradbury</td></tr>
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We don't want to mention the winter. It was fairly endless. Quite a bit of snow and very cold. So what to do, we of course set out for California again, this time to the South only. Very nostalgic sleeping in Kirk and Melinda's house for the first and last time before it would be sold. Melinda joined us for the day when we visited the Wells Tile shop in Echo Park. Then Kirk joined us as we toured the Fine Arts Building and the Biltmore Hotel. Bill and I took a tour of the Tournament of Roses Wrigley home, and then we had a fine day at the races with Mimi. Roger, Fran, Gil and Joan joined us for an outing to the Bradbury Building and the Los Angeles Public Library. A last visit with Kirk and Melinda at Buster's, then we set off for Laguna Beach. Lunch with my cousins was a success, a long time since I had seen Terry, Katie and Sandy. Several more inches of snow awaited us when we arrived back in New Jersey.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chaffinch Island, Guilford</td></tr>
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Bill and I enjoyed auditing a class on the brain at Princeton, and I took a class about how art has been used in American history to "frame culture." A nice surprise was the appearance of one of my poems in the local glossy <i>Princeton Magazine</i>--as one of five featured poets we will be reading at the D & R Greenway in July. In May I attended a conference, "Poetry by the Sea," where I was part of a panel on "Poetry and Transportation" with Dolores Hayden and Patricia Valdata. My talk was entitled "Motion as Commotion in the Soul." I also participated in a seminar on ekphrastic poetry, and did a short presentation on Robert Hass' poem "Art and Life." The best part of the conference was its location in Madison, Connecticut, on Long Island Sound. Inspired by one of my fellow attendees (a Brit) I actually swam two of the days there, in water supposedly hovering around 54-degrees.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View of the cemetery from the Atheneum</td></tr>
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In early June Bill and I flew to Boston for the Boston Early Music Festival. From Burning River Baroque at Emmanuel Church to Four and Twenty Lutes on the last day we enjoyed some great music. We went with Harry to the Nichols House Museum in Beacon Hill, then to a concert featuring Shira Kammen and women singers performing Hildegarde Bingen's chants woven into the work of a modern woman composer. Then that evening the three of us heard Monteverdi's opera "Ritorno di Ulisse," a fantastic production. We also heard a lecture on Handel, and another at the Atheneum on John Singer Sargent. Chris and Nancy joined us for dinner at a Puerto Rican restaurant. Now we just prepare for the rest of the summer, to Chester, to Gilmanton.slopoethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02776866768826145757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4893577596733269743.post-26734891169227570292014-11-12T18:13:00.003-08:002014-11-12T18:14:55.018-08:00Summer into Fall<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://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Fu9ECoabUzE/VGQTVVddFXI/AAAAAAABBMM/PXMgGql8uaM/s1600/IMG_20140725_182231.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Fu9ECoabUzE/VGQTVVddFXI/AAAAAAABBMM/PXMgGql8uaM/s200/IMG_20140725_182231.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dinner before the play overlooking the Hudson</td></tr>
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What do I remember of mid-summer? Players from the Shakespeare on the Hudson striding in 17th century costumes towards us on the meadow between the theater and the river. Eleanor Roosevelt's home nearby. The Chester ferry. Huddling with my fellow poets at our now annual Chester Conference. Gilmanton, Loon Pond, always the same. Kayaking across the center of the lake.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hgcKofQYPpM/VGQTdbu9YYI/AAAAAAABBMU/svCXa7p_XZ4/s1600/IMG_20141016_150313.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hgcKofQYPpM/VGQTdbu9YYI/AAAAAAABBMU/svCXa7p_XZ4/s200/IMG_20141016_150313.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lighthouse near Mukilteo ferry landing</td></tr>
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Before we knew it, fall had arrived. I volunteered for my 45th Stanford reunion as co-social-media-coordinator (Holly and I monitored the Facebook page!), and wrote a memorial poem for the class book. We decided to "add on" Seattle and Portland to our trip west for the reunion. Stayed with Cindy and Doug in Bellevue, got to see Corinne and walk the UW campus with her, stayed with Peggy and Bill in Portland. When we got to Palo Alto I discovered it was the night of our old poetry group's workshop, so I went to that, too. Holly had us Branner 3C corridor mates to her home for cocktails, and the dinner I arranged at Vaso Azzurro for Italy XIV went off splendidly.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yu0CxM7p-wQ/VGQToFfV_CI/AAAAAAABBMc/q8vRmH_yHJc/s1600/IMG_20141106_154657.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yu0CxM7p-wQ/VGQToFfV_CI/AAAAAAABBMc/q8vRmH_yHJc/s200/IMG_20141106_154657.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Morristown Presbyterian Churchyard</td></tr>
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Got back to Lawrenceville and soon my sister arrived! Lots of planning on my part to figure out just the route we should take--she appreciated how we avoided the major highways, stuck to the countryside. Lunch at the Bernards Inn, stops in the Mendham and Morristown churchyards the first afternoon, and dinner at the Madison Hotel where we stayed. The next day we found our great-great-great grandmother's tombstone in Fairfield, stopped in at the Van Ness house and the Sandford-Stager house (the latter is for sale!). Earlier in the day we went to Montville, saw two houses there (Hyler and Parlaman), both owned by our ancestors. Lunch in Montclair at the Red Eye Cafe. Found great-grandfather Fillmore's home on Roseland, across the street from the Robison house, both in good shape. All our relatives found in the Prospect Hill Cemetery (Fillmore, Ida and Everett, Stephen J. and Catherine, Charles S. Simonson and Emma Winans, Henry Winans and Mary Hotto, Ann Sanford and Isaac Simonson. Don't think I'm missing anyone. Couldn't find anyone at the First Presbyterian Churchyard, graves too hard to read, although our folks were listed in the books they had in the office. Mother's house looked great, the owner was just leaving or she would have shown us around again as she did for me a few years ago. Russell's house still there, and their father Charles' and the store with "Simonson 1909" in the brick. Also Fillmore's older home on Bloomfield, Everett Field, Overlook Cottage. Back home in traffic on the Garden State, but in time for dinner with Bill at the Blue Bottle in Hopewell.slopoethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02776866768826145757noreply@blogger.com0