Nowhere To Go But Around/Thursday Doors
Time changes space.
Space revises what is unseen.
Time changes space.
Circles mirror, echo, retrace
here into there and then between.
Waves spiral, wheel, return again.
Time changes space.
I recently went to the Guggenheim Museum to see the Orphism exhibit. Robert Delaunay’s circular canvases were a highlight. But the museum itself is such an interesting building, and of course I had doors in mind.
One of the side galleries had a small Mondrian exhibit, tracing the evolution of his painting. That’s his photo on the right, and an unusual landscape I had never seen before flanking the exit on the left.
Every layer you spiral up inside the museum gives a different point of view into what is below. This is the gift shop with the exit door from two different vantage points.
I’d never gone into the Ada Simon Reading Room before. On the left is the entrance, and on the right is the entrance/exit from inside the room. It once was a storage room, but is now an interactive creative space.
There were two scrap poetry boards, and visitors were invited to add something of their own. I added two words to “open sea illuminated”–“in peace”.
I was pleased to see Chagall’s “The Great Wheel” in person–Melissa used it for a W3 prompt, and I did my own interpretation, on the right.
And there was also a wonderful Mamie Jellet painting, below, in the Orphism exhibit. She was the subject of a Kick About prompt, for which I did a circle response, although I had not seen this work before. That’s my collage, on the right of the painting.
Of course I have a lot more photos. There was really too much art for me to take in all at once though. I think the exhibit is there for awhile, so maybe I’ll get a chance to go back.
It’s finally looking and feeling like winter. That’s Central Park, viewed from inside the museum.
My poem is a rondelet, Lady Lee’s W3 prompt form for this week.
And look for more doors, as always, at Thursday Doors, hosted by Dan Antion.
Tis the season…
It all starts with the first door of the advent calendar…
December 2024/Visitation
Angels need no maps of the stars,
no compass to locate the forces of infinity–
they are the not that is,
a geography larger than what can be written down.
No compass is necessary to locate the forces of infinity
that gravitate, pull, and repel inside
a geography larger than what can be written down.
Larger than shadows, veils, and mirrors,
they gravitate, pull, and repel time.
They ride on invisible strings woven through air,
larger than shadows, veils, and mirrors.
Their landscape inhabits their very being,
riding on invisible strings woven through air,
moving on currents of skywind and dream magic.
Their landscape inhabits their very being,
alert to the pauses and imperfections of the light.
Moving on currents of skywind and dream magic,
they become feathers and wings–
alert to the pauses and imperfections of the light,
they become vessels and messengers.
They become feathers and wings.
They balance the world as it slumbers and waits.
They become vessels and messengers.
They become what is seen with closed eyes
They balance the world as it slumbers and waits,
echoing and reflecting the pull of the unknown.
They become what is seen with closed eyes,
the outline filled with what isn’t there,
Echoing and reflecting the pull of the unknown.
They are the not that is,
the outline filled with what isn’t there.
Angels need no maps of the stars
A final month of birdlings before I go back to my geometry for the beginning of the month next year.
The pantoum, inspired by Chagall’s “The Dream”, below, was published in The Ekphrastic Review this week right next to Merril’s poem “Temporary Shelter of Dreams, 1939”.
May your December be filled with the people you love and hopeful dreams.
Children’s Sculpture Garden (Thursday Doors on Friday)
we cover our children
with wishes—long life,
peace, plenty, joy–
our children are our future
~roots, branches, all connected~
we are responsible for every child,
all of us branches from the same tree–
every child is ours–
every child’s future is our own
The Children’s Sculpture Garden surrounds the Peace Fountain on the grounds of the Cathedral of St John the Divine in Morningside Heights in Manhattan. I took these pictures long ago, so I didn’t know to get a better picture of the gate, but it gives me a good reason to go back.
The fountain was designed by artist-in-residence at the Cathedral, Greg Wyatt, in 1985, to celebrate the 200th anniversary of the Diocese of New York. The sculpture shows the struggle between good and evil, with the Archangel Michael defeating Satan, and includes many seemingly unrelated elements that caused some controversy at the time. I like that it casts a wide net over life itself and the cosmos in which life resides.
Surrounding the fountain are animals sculpted by K-12 students from the surrounding neighborhood schools–public, private, and parochial. The Cathedral’s mission includes services for a wide range of local residents, and is a large supporter of the arts.
There are also plaques commemorating various icons of peace, including Gandhi and John Lennon, on the periphery of the plaza.
I have never seen the fountain working. Evidently it was constructed during a drought, but I’m not sure why it hasn’t since been turned on.
I have lots and lots of photos of the Cathedral itself, both inside and out, from various visits–although they don’t begin to cover all of its treasures. Also, the art inside is always changing. Once I gather and organize them, I have enough for a few posts.
My poem is a quadrille in the puente form for dVerse, where Lisa supplied the word with.
And look for more doors, as always, at Thursday Doors, hosted by Dan Antion.
MOMA PS1 (Thursday Doors)
center me–
look beyond limits,
examine
and reflect–
virtuosity questions
expands opens mends
I thought I would highlight doors and art from my visit last summer to PS1, a branch of the Museum of Modern Art in Queens, since one of the shows I saw was the Melissa Cody weaving exhibit, which was the inspiration for my Kick-About collage this week, below.
Here’s another of Cody’s Spider Woman weavings.
Cody often combines the traditional techniques of her Navajo ancestors with modern motifs, as in another of my favorites in the show, “I Am Navajo Barbie”, below.
After the initial door, at the top, there are two more doors to go through before you get to the actual PS1 museum space.
First, a sidewalk flanked by courtyards which look like they are used for outdoor events.
And then a walk across another courtyard to the steps that lead up to the main doors.
You can easily tell from the inside of the building that this was once a school.
The other artist whose work I wanted to see that day was Pacita Abad. A Filipino-American artist and activist, she worked in many media, including textiles, and often included mask motifs.
My very favorite finds that day were these paper wall sculptures Abad created. I love everything about them.
What a fascinating life she had, traveling the world, working and teaching for human rights, and absorbing and incorporating into her own work the earth’s many traditional arts and cultures.
I was also enchanted by the staircases in the museum, which all included their own art.
My poem is an acrostic shadorma for Tanka Tuesday, where shadorma is the form chosen by Cheryl, and W3, where Jennifer asked for an acrostic using as both subject and acrostic some word related to “bond”. I chose “cleave” which is a word I’ve always liked because it has opposite meanings. Looking at art like this cleaves me in all senses.
You can read more about Melissa Cody and her exhibit at PS1 here.
And there’s a detailed biography and more art from the extraordinary Pacita Abad here.
And you can visit the PS1 website here. There’s a photo of the original school building on the about page, here.
And look for more doors, as always, at Thursday Doors, hosted by Dan Antion.
Woven Inspiration
An exceptional group of responses to Navajo weaver Melissa Cody’s magical work.
Bethesda Fountain, Central Park (Thursday Doors)
Inside mythical tides
the secrets of our origins
abide. We begin
as vessels, empty,
waiting for the mysteries
of transformation—
vast, deep, alive.
What flows what moves
through us like water?
What cleanses, what heals?
Fountains echo the music
mirrored in skies of dreams
Bethesda Fountain sits between Bethesda Terrace and The Lake in the middle of Central Park. Known for it’s sculpture, The Angel of the Waters, designed by Emma Stebbins, it has been featured in many films and is a popular destination for wedding photos–there were several couples posing on the day we visited in October.
The base of the fountain was designed by Vaux and Mould, who also designed Belvedere Castle. The water around it contains waterlilies, lotus, and papyrus.
Both the terrace and fountain were named for the Pool of Bethesda, which was blessed with healing powers by an angel, and where Jesus healed a sick man who was unable to reach the pool. Stebbins also wished to celebrate the opening of the Croton Aqueduct, which brought fresh water to NYC for the first time, providing a way to avoid the many deaths of residents of the city caused by contaminated water.
In a reprise of a familiar story, both the Terrace and Fountain were abandoned and had decayed by the 1970s. As one of their first projects, the Central Park Conservancy restored them in the early 1980s.
We began our circumnavigation of The Lake on the west side of the park, moving south toward the fountain. There are wonderful views on every side.
Across The Lake from the fountain is the Boathouse, where you can rent a rowboat. We continued our walk around in that direction.
The Boathouse also houses a restaurant and a cafe.
Past the Boathouse, you enter the Ramble, a popular birding spot. Besides the usual sparrows, blue jays, robins, and cardinals, we spotted a downy woodpecker, and identified many birds we could hear but not see with my sister-in-law’s Audubon app. And of course squirrels were everywhere.
Here’s a view of the lake from inside the Ramble. As you can see, the day was one of very changeable skies.
My poem is a quadrille for dVerse, where De has provided the word what.
You can find more details about the Fountain, here , at the Daytonian.
And look for more doors, as always, at Thursday Doors, hosted by Dan Antion.
Weekend work 11/11/2024
My coworker had to put her dog down and it truly broke her heart. She had a concept for a painting and this is the result. Jen was around 16 years old and I share her owner’s opinion that dogs are angels.
This painting is gouache on Yupo paper. I’ve had this paper for a long time and this is the first time I’ve used it. It is very cool! Doesn’t wrinkle and can take a lot of paint. Also lends itself to techniquey things I.e. drips, scribbling over wet paint, pressing in designs etc.
Another one on Yupo. Anyone else tried this paper?
A rock I did for a coworker. She liked it.
I’m glad that I did some painting over the last few days and I hope I can keep it up. Have a great week!
Nina
Ruby Crowned Kinglet (Draw a Bird Day)
The trees along the walkway in Riverside Park were festooned with autumn berries. Bird chatter filled the air. My companion, an avid birder, paused. Sparrows, starlings, robins—what else? A flash of yellow. “Warblers” she said. “And those tiny ones, flitting about—those are kinglets. Too bad they aren’t showing us their crowns—they appear iridescent, radiant, in the sun.”
What omen these wings
of multiloquent featherlight?–
quintessential joy
Described as “hyperactive” by one of the websites I consulted, kinglets are tiny birds found throughout North America and Mexico. Despite their small size they have loud and intricate songs.
They prefer tall dense conifer habitats for nesting, but during migration can be found anywhere there are shrubs or trees, sometimes in small feeding flocks containing several species of birds. Their primary dietary source is insects, which they often catch in flight, but they also eat fruit, seeds and tree sap.
The crest is usually hidden on the male, but he will display when courting or agitated. The female does not have a crest.
Kinglets build hanging nests in the high dense foliage of trees and lay the most eggs of any North American bird species–as many as 12 in one clutch. They will defend their nest fearlessly from intruders. Both male and female raise the chicks.
Although not endangered, many kinglets die due to severe weather or in collisions with buildings during nocturnal migrations. One subspecies that inhabited Guadalupe Island off the coast of Northwest Mexico is believed to be extinct, as none have been seen for 60 years.
I used charcoal for the third illustration–I have not worked with it for a long time, but I’ve been cleaning out my art supplies and discovered a small box of it. I think I applied a little too much fixative, although it does create an interesting effect.
My haibun is for Tanka Tuesday, where Lisa provided promise and comfort as the words for her “synonyms only” prompt. And Merril asked us to write about joy for dVerse earlier this week. You can’t beat birds to inspire joy.
The Center Shifts (Thursday Doors)
1
Gardens grow secrets,
moonwandering endlessly
between, resting only
long enough to begin again.
2
Life roots wild, dark,
ancient, treespirited.
Seeds grow, reaching
toward the stars.
3
Rivers forested
with wind follow
the path of birdlight
inside time’s eye.
4
The seasons know
always never remains–
spring summer fall winter-
opening, then closing again.
5
After cycles through
the same earthpath
as before—voices echo
back—dancing, winged.
We visited the New York Botanical Garden in the Bronx a few weeks ago. They were featuring an Alice in Wonderland theme, as well as plenty of pumpkins. The above structure is in the Rose Garden.
Here’s the cottage by the entrance to the Rose Garden.
We did a lot of walking, passing by this stone mill–I hope to get a closer look on a future visit.
A rabbit for Dan–posing as many of his neighborhood rabbits do. I took lots more photos, but will save them for a future post.
It was a beautiful autumn day, which inspired my poem, a cadralor of 64 words incorporating the words dark and light for Sheila’s W3 prompt. We only have one earth. I wish America had voted to take better care of it.
Someone’s got to stop us now
Save us from us, Gaia
–James Taylor
And you can always find more doors at Thursday Doors, hosted by Dan Antion.
Pray for the forest pray to the tree
Pray for the fish in the deep blue sea
Pray for yourself and for God’s sake
Say one for me
method two madness 
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