The Dinner Party (Thursday Doors)
A door sailing, shining, in the dark–
here’s an opening for those left out.
Should we say their names, do them proud?
or hide ourselves behind the same old patriarchs?
Here’s an opening for those left out–
a door sailing, shining, in the dark.
Even though I’ve visited Judy Chicago’s Dinner Party at The Brooklyn Museum a few times, I did not have that many photos of it. To enter you pass through a parted curtain that looks like a ship’s sail from across the room. That’s the top photo; I actually took a lot of pictures of that. Above is a blurry photo of what you see when you enter.
This is the embroidery on the corner of the tablecloth by the entrance.
There are 39 women seated at the table, and here’s a few of them that I photographed.
Emily Dickinson, American poet
Hatshepsut, Egypt’s second confirmed queen regent.
Sophia, the feminine personification of divine wisdom.
Sacajawea, Native American woman who guided Lewis and Clark.
Sojourner Truth, African-American abolitionist and activist for civil rights and women’s rights.
Caroline Herschel, British astronomer.
Georgia O’Keeffe, American artist.
To read more about these extraordinary women, and see a list of all 39 women seated at The Dinner Party, here’s a link to the Wikipedia page. Maria Popova also has a wonderful article with many more plates pictured, here.
My poem is a biolet on the theme of love/hate for Sadje’s W3 prompt.
And find more Doors every week at Thursday Doors, hosted by Dan Antion.
I also wanted to acknowledge the passing of activist and musician Bernice Johnson Reagon, founder of women’s acapella group Sweet Honey in the Rock. Her voice will be greatly missed.
It’s easy to lose rights you take for granted, and very hard to win them back.
I’ll be on break for a bit–see you in a few weeks.
Johnny the Cat (Thursday Doors)
In The Pet Market lives Johnny the Cat—
he dines well—some might call him fat.
A king on his throne,
he is always at home–
and allows the occasional pat.
This post was inspired by David’s W3 prompt this week to write about something amusing. I’m always delighted to see Johnny the Cat when I’m in my old neighborhood, and these pictures were taken at various times over the last few years. He’s not really fat, but he’s certainly treated royally, and is a neighborhood institution.
He keeps an eye on things…
from many angles.
New York is famous for its bodega cats, but Johnny has a life most deli cats would envy.
You can always find more doors at Thursday Doors, hosted by Dan Antion.
And in honor of Johnny, some music from Chuck Berry that is sure to make you smile (and dance–although perhaps in a bit less of a frenzied manner).
More Birds of Paradise
A variety of responses, including some collages in continuation of my Draw A Bird Day post.
Christmas in July
we thaw
the winter nights
with red and green—holly,
poinsettias, wreaths, bows–
warm under quilts
of stars
Teagan is running a Christmas in July celebration in an attempt to both cheer us up and cool us down. You may not know but in my previous life I was, among other things, a sweater designer, and I designed many a (famously ugly) Christmas sweater. I’ve actually chosen some of the least offensive ones to feature in this post.
Following the theme, I decided to use Winter kigo words and do another Badger’s Hexastich for Tanka Tuesday. Holly and poinsettias are both winter seasonal plants.
And since this is a light-hearted post, I’ve included a seasonal limerick for the W3 prompt of the clock faces, below, provided by Celestial.
The clock in our head says July–
“too hot!” is our echoing cry.
Let’s pretend it’s December
and try hard to remember
when the cold was in ample supply.
And last, but not least, I’m including my favorite fun Santa song, in answer to Teagan’s post today. Every year my daughters threaten to give me this CD for Christmas.
Merry Christmas in July!
Brooklyn Museum of Art (Thursday Doors)
look up
into a sea
of clouds—imagine your
self rising into the
summer sky—winged
aloft
I finally made it to the Brooklyn Museum to see the art collection of the Deans (Swizz Beatz and Alicia Keys) right before it closed. The entrance to the museum is a glass atrium that makes you feel as if you are sailing, especially on a day of cloud-decorated blue skies. I found a photo of the original entrance, below.
The Museum, including the entrance, has been reimagined several times. The current entrance was designed by James Polshek in 2000, and, though not much to look at from the outside, is wonderful inside. At that time there were a number of interior renovations which included adding air conditioning to all the galleries.
Here’s the revolving doors through which you go to enter the atrium.
And this is where you actually enter the museum. I assume this is the original structure stripped down to the bricks.
The Deans’ art collections is full of work created by African-American artists, some I was familiar with and some not. Here’s some work by Nick Cave, who I’ve covered before. There was also a Kick-About using his soundsuits as inspiration.
I did not know artist Hank Willis Thomas, but this painting caught my eye.
This painting with embroidered rhinestones by Mickalene Thomas is right up my alley.
And there were many wonderful photographs by Gordon Parks.
Henry Taylor is another artist I was not familiar with.
I have lots and lots of photos from other trips to the museum. Their Egyptian galleries are wonderful, and their Feminist Galleries are the home of Judy Chicago’s Dinner Party, which I never tire of visiting. I did a post in 2014 with photos of Emily Dickinson’s place setting. I know there are more doors in there as well, so I will get to more art in future doors posts.
And the subway station has its own guardians!
Wikipedia has a detailed history of the Brooklyn Museum’s many lives here.
My badgers hexastich is for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday, using kigo words sea of clouds and summer sky.
And, as always, there are many more doors to see at Thursday Doors, hosted by Dan Antion.
Wilson’s Bird of Paradise (Draw a Bird Day)
tail glistens silver
metallic green flares open
iridescent dance
Wilson’s Bird of Paradise is a small bird native to Papua, Indonesia. Its coloring is quite striking–primary color patches against iridescent black. It also has a long curlicue silver blue tail and blue feet. The blue crown is skin, not feathers, and is so vivid it can be seen at night. It resembles a turtle shell to me.
The female has the same blue crown and feet, but the rest of her coloring is brownish, and she lacks the bright back patches and green breast feathers as well as the curled tail. She does not need to be so opulent–it’s the male who must perform to win her as a mate.
Wilson’s Bird of Paradise lives in hill and lowland rainforests, and are near-threatened due to, as is often the case, habitat loss, and human hunting for feathers. They eat fruit, insects, and small invertebrates. They are best known for their elaborate mating dance and song. If you take the time to view the video, below, you will understand why.
The Malay people call them “the birds of the gods”.
I discovered this bird through the Kick-About prompt this week. I will be doing a collage exploration for that, which you can see next week, along with all the other responses to the many varied and magical species of the Bird of Paradise.
Blues (Thursday Doors)
“There is something about the summer / That makes me moody”
– “Summer Mood,” Best Coast
the relentless summer heat
leaves me without context–
loose ends everywhere–
the days have lost all form–
filled with disembodied blues
This oppressive summer heat-and-humidity indeed makes me moody and unfocused, even blue, so this week I decided to look through my archives for some blue doors. There were quite a few doors without context that were blue. I have no idea where the above doors are located, and I did not even photograph the whole building they reside in, but at least I noticed the stair guardian on the door with the blue stairs. I’m sure the stairs were what first attracted my attention.
I think I may have used this door before in a post, but I don’t know where it lives.
I remember that this door is on the east side, near the Cooper Hewitt. I need to go back and find out more about it. It looks like it might be a school building.
I know exactly where this door is, and I don’t know why I never photographed the building and looked for its history. It’s a handsome entrance I think.
Here’s another door that’s only 15 blocks away from me. I keep meaning to go back and photo the whole church.
This belongs to a school that seems to be in use even though it has also been under construction scaffolding for years. I think that not only people in wheelchairs need to go to the entrance to the right.
Colleen asked us to write a summer poem inspired by one of the song lyrics she provided for this week’s Tanka Tuesday. I chose the Best Coast song for my gogyohka
And Dan Antion hosts many more doors every week at Thursday Doors.
I’m taking next week off to finish my POPO postcards. For all who celebrate, Happy 4th!
Turning it all Around
“No matter what the rules are, when one is painting one creates one’s own world.”
–Alice Neel
All the signs point nowhere–
the way is unseeable–
the entrance is a mirror
a warning a secret that has no map
The way is unseeable–
a spell-casting an enchantment
a warning a secret that has no map–
but how else to tell?
Spell-casting an enchantment
I weave and reweave my stories–
how else to tell
what exists without words?
I weave and reweave my stories
over under over under–
all that exists without words–
a song searching for a voice
Over under over under–
I am always at the beginning,
a song searching for a voice,
attempting to become visible
I am always at the beginning–
the entrance is a mirror
where I attempt to become visible,
following signs that point nowhere
In the early 1980s I took a book out of the library which was full of photographs of artists and their work. I did a series of collages based on the photos. I recently rediscovered them when archiving all my portfolios of old art.
I tried to find the book again, but could locate no trace of it either in the library or online. Of course at the time I wrote down neither the name of the book, or the artists I was portraying, titling each work with only “visage” and a number. Perhaps it’s better that way. Ironically, given the quote from Alice Neel, there seem to have been no women among the artists the author photographed. I wonder how different actually it would be now.
I constructed my pantoum from two writing fragments. As I’ve noted before, I have notebooks and notebooks full of writing, as every morning with my coffee I read a few poems and then write in response to what those poems evoke. I often use them for finished poems.
We miss you Levon.
Long Train Running (Thursday Doors)
1
The neighborhood children waited for the daily freight train,
hanging on the wooden fence at the terminus of our dead-end street
so we could wave at the man riding on the caboose.
2
Traveling by coach was free because my father worked for the railroad–
all night we journeyed, seemingly stopping at every little town in West Virginia–
sleepless, I was glad to see Cincinnati at dawn.
3
I cried all the way from New York to Baltimore, each station–
Newark, Trenton, North Philadelphia, Philadelphia, Wilmington–
bringing me closer to my great aunt’s funeral.
4
Her sister and I came to know the route well–
New Jersey Transit to Trenton, and then SEPTA
to Philadephia’s 30th Street Station, an easy walk to her school.
5
Seasons changing, I watched the colorful leaves blur by–
New Haven, New London, Providence, Boston—another college town
for walking, choral concerts, museums, baseball.
There’s no official Thursday Doors today, but Punam gave us a train prompt at dVerse this week, and as Dan likes trains, I decided to look for some vintage postcards to use as illustrations, some with doors. I’ve taken many a trip on Amtrak over the years, up and down the Northeast Corridor.
I love postcards–I collect them, I alter them, I make them, and I send them. The Hudson River tunnel one is from my own collection. It’s part of my love for cards in general. Every year I participate in the Poetry Postcard Festival, which is starting soon. I think you can still sign up for this year until July 1.
This wonderful place still exists! Read about it here.
My title is taken from the Doobie Brothers song. This is a really wacky video, but remember–1973. And it does feature some trains. “Without love, where would you be right now?” Exactly.
And another train song I really like, just because.
You can always find more doors of all kinds at Thursday Doors, hosted by Dan Antion.
Circles
Well you know how much I love circles…
method two madness 
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