31 March 2014
29 March 2014
27 March 2014
oh Edith...
.
How much longer are we going to think it necessary to be ''American'' before (or in contradistinction to) being cultivated, being enlightened, being humane, and having the same intellectual discipline as other civilized countries? Edith Wharton, still asking the right questions.
How much longer are we going to think it necessary to be ''American'' before (or in contradistinction to) being cultivated, being enlightened, being humane, and having the same intellectual discipline as other civilized countries? Edith Wharton, still asking the right questions.
The Edith Wharton Society announces a prize for undergraduate research on Edith Wharton, all the details are here.
.
.
25 March 2014
20 March 2014
a perfect gentleman
,
I hardly think of REMUS that I don't think of my beloved dog MOSES. You see, Moses raised Remus from a 5 month old kitten to be a great dog-and a real pussycat. MOSES was the anointed one, Remus his willing acolyte. Chosen for his beauty-and his obviously being a momma's boy, Remus entered the old house on White Oak Road as a youngster- to be tamed-to be mastered, and Moses took on that tutelage. Other than providing Remus sustenance I was little needed- he was Moses' cat.
Yes, too- there was his coat-black and white like Moses', and they did take on certain Siamese twin-like characteristics.
Guarding the house-check.
Rushing to the door when the bell rang-check.
Settling in on the sofa at night to watch tv-check.
Following me down to the office at night- check.
Going out to... nope-Remus had to stay inside during Moses morning constitutionals-and his late night sorties into the deepest reaches of the courtyard, but Remus waited at the door for him-hind quarters in quick retreat as Moses shot back into the house...They were gone.
In the autumn of 2008, Remus sat with me on the bed waiting for our vet-Dr. E to euthanize Moses. Did they both know? If they did, they accepted it. Animals do that. Whether abused or indulged-they accept what their masters dole out. Moses was ready. As Moses quietly left me-Remus left me too. Moses was gone-and Remus jumped off the bed as soon as Moses breathed his last. He mourned. I know he did as did I, yet it was never the same for either of us-there was a small gap-a hole in our hearts-that we could not-did not bridge. We did the same things-but with less Joy.
Another dog-Zetta-appeared on the scene, but it was never the same for Remus. Not even close. Remus tried to embrace her-but she wasn't that into cats-and it was only after Zetta dozed off-that Remus could slip in alongside her.
The past two weeks Remus has been sick-withdrawing from his daily rituals and family life. He was ready. I gathered him up in a towel-his shroud- as he cried faintly-weakly-but trusting. He accepted.
Off to feel no pain-finally able to slip outside beyond the safety of home and follow Moses. I know he was waiting.
I hardly think of REMUS that I don't think of my beloved dog MOSES. You see, Moses raised Remus from a 5 month old kitten to be a great dog-and a real pussycat. MOSES was the anointed one, Remus his willing acolyte. Chosen for his beauty-and his obviously being a momma's boy, Remus entered the old house on White Oak Road as a youngster- to be tamed-to be mastered, and Moses took on that tutelage. Other than providing Remus sustenance I was little needed- he was Moses' cat.
Yes, too- there was his coat-black and white like Moses', and they did take on certain Siamese twin-like characteristics.
Guarding the house-check.
Rushing to the door when the bell rang-check.
Settling in on the sofa at night to watch tv-check.
Following me down to the office at night- check.
Going out to... nope-Remus had to stay inside during Moses morning constitutionals-and his late night sorties into the deepest reaches of the courtyard, but Remus waited at the door for him-hind quarters in quick retreat as Moses shot back into the house...They were gone.
In the autumn of 2008, Remus sat with me on the bed waiting for our vet-Dr. E to euthanize Moses. Did they both know? If they did, they accepted it. Animals do that. Whether abused or indulged-they accept what their masters dole out. Moses was ready. As Moses quietly left me-Remus left me too. Moses was gone-and Remus jumped off the bed as soon as Moses breathed his last. He mourned. I know he did as did I, yet it was never the same for either of us-there was a small gap-a hole in our hearts-that we could not-did not bridge. We did the same things-but with less Joy.
The past two weeks Remus has been sick-withdrawing from his daily rituals and family life. He was ready. I gathered him up in a towel-his shroud- as he cried faintly-weakly-but trusting. He accepted.
Off to feel no pain-finally able to slip outside beyond the safety of home and follow Moses. I know he was waiting.
Rest In Peace-Little RE- you were a perfect gentleman to the end.
.18 March 2014
on flowers & Bunny Mellon
“This towering forest of scent and white flowers was the beginning of ceaseless interest, passion and pleasure in gardens and books, Like a magic carpet it has carried me through life’s experiences, discoveries, joys and sorrows. In sadness especially, it has been a hiding-place until my heart mended.” Bunny Mellon on her first memories of flowers & of the meaning of gardens
Much will be said of Bunny Mellon in the coming weeks-months-years. A life of great privilege and wealth-what meant most to her is something that is within reach of us all.
portrait of Bunny Mellon by Mati Klarwein
“Our family house in Princeton [N.J.] was surrounded by open fields that led me into the pleasure of discovery, as a child, wild flowers were part of my feeling of freedom.” Bunny Mellon
Requiscat en Pace
Rachel "Bunny" Mellon
August 9, 1910- March 17, 2014
for more about her extraordinary life go to The Washington Post here
(photograph from here)
17 March 2014
16 March 2014
15 March 2014
the colors of Lady Ottoline
.
a box of Lady Ottoline Morrell's silk sewing threads left at Garsington
(see Garsington at my blog devoted to Ottoline, Ottoline Divine HERE)
photograph by Christopher Simon Sykes
14 March 2014
12 March 2014
A Day in the Life
Our16th century Renaissance women, heroines all, in a number of mise en scene- are actually Greek Goddesses, Sappho, Oenone, Dido, Briseis, et alia.
the bath,
the peeping King...
the texts,
the well meaning "friend"
the intrigue,
the occasional Dragon,
the slips and falls from grace,
the lament,
the mayhem,
the mayhem,
the murder,
& it starts all over again.
...all in the Day of a Life.
manuscripts: Français 874, fol. 170v. at the Bibliothèque nationale de France, & Mandragore
10 March 2014
in the Blue Bedchamber...
,
Carved with figures strange and sweet,
All made out of the carver’s brain.
Samuel Coleridge—Christabel. Pt. I.
Portrait of Sir Robert Walpole, 1st Earl of Orford, and Catherine Shorter, Lady Walpole by Eccardt, 1754
frame of black and gold carved by Grinling Gibbons, c.1680
(hanging in the Blue Bedchamber at Strawberry Hill)
image from here
.
08 March 2014
MUFF IT
as witnessed here-I follow Fashion. Follow in the sense that I love it because it's always moving so quickly & designers are challenged to recreate their brand two-four times a year.
MCQUEEN -an exquisite feathered cape
I am not a fashion blogger, as I did not see in the flesh one runway show, nor do I wear mind boggling ensembles put together to be photographed by street photographers-or to photograph oneself -the ubiquitously loathsome "selfie."
It's Amazing the clothes these women labelled Fashion "bloggers" and "journalists" wear (apparently there is a difference between the 2). These women look fantastic in most cases-it's an Art within itself-often inspiring runway fashion.
Design bloggers -You really need to step up your game!
Sofie Valkiers-Blogger, left, Nausheen Shah- Journalist
& below Guan Hejin-"Confectioner" (sweet! How adorable is she!)
What's BEAUTIFUL
Fall 2014
SO my observations this Season and favorites-(note none of these ladies are wearing either of these impacting accessories).
BEAUTIFUL
Gloves at ROCHAS
BEAUTIFUL
MUFFS at CELINE
(remember we've noted MUFFS again & again HERE)
Otherwise the Collections were lackluster- with exceptions: MARC by Marc Jacobs, Louis Vuitton, Rochas Alexander McQueen, Celine, Dries Van Noten, and always a favorite Duro.
(links to little augury stories in italics above)
.
06 March 2014
Strange Fruit
Fruit-symbol of fertility and abundance- in Cranach's painting (Lucas the Elder) Cupid Complaining to Venus-and in Keats' poem...
“Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.”Keats
Crivelli's paintings of the Madonna always exhibit Fruit entwined in elaborately bizarre bunting.
"Art is a fruit that grows in man, like a fruit on a plant, or a child in its mother's womb."- Jean Arp
Botanists and painters have been splitting open Fruit in examination and inspiration for centuries. In the 18th century Johann C. Volkcamer illustrated exotic citrus fruits growing in Volckamer's Nuremburg home. Somewhat surreal-Volkcamer's colossal fruit & Baroque banners with names in Latin, are suspended over landscapes, villas and gardens in Nuremberg and Northern Italy.
"Nurenbergische Hesperides, the thorough description of the noble Citron, used in within and neighbouring area, praised Lemon, and Orange fruits, like such, be received and carried away, velvet of a detailed dicription of most sorts, which some were brought to Nuremberg actually grown, others by different strange places there... " Volkcamer
"Before thee stands this fair Hesperides, With golden Fruit..." Shakespeare
the MODERN HESPERIDES
(photographs of Penelope Tree top, center Tim Walker, and below Irving Penn)
The HESPERIDES, three daughters of Hesperus, tended the beatific orchard of Hera in a far western corner of the world.
"But the fruit that can fall without shaking, Indeed is too mellow for me." Lady Mary Wortley Montagu
Flowers and Fruit of the Pomelo, a Branch of Henna, and a Flying Lizard, by Marianne North
Marianne North at Mrs. Cameron's house in Ceylon,
photograph by Julia Margaret Cameron
From table-to cabinet to dressing table, Howard Slatkin's artful placement of Fruit throughout his apartment bring magical spots of citrusy color into his rooms.
(photographs by Tria Giovan from Slatkin's book Fifth Avenue Style)
“Everyone who enjoys thinks that the principal thing to the tree is the fruit, but in point of fact the principal thing to it is the seed. -- Herein lies the difference between them that create and them that enjoy.” Nietzsche
.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)