There's Always Something...

All Preachers Should End Up Like This...

You can find this noble statue in North Andover ,Mass.

Australia and Your Mind...

"Australia" is one of those films that come along now and then that plays tricks with your mind. On the surface, it is an "epic" film in both length and action. But the fact that it sticks with you like garlic the next day is a hint that there's more going on here than surface events might indicate.

The music is a haunting combination of classical and semi-modern music that, along with thoughtfully used percussion effects, makes a rich contribution without calling attention to itself. A rare plus.

But the mystical capacity of Aboriginal initiation rites and symbolic gestures (singing someone to oneself) have a subtle and disturbing quality all their own. There's something familiar, yet very strange about all this.

The final scene of letting a child go with both deep sorrow and mature joy is poignant and full of wisdom.

I liked it very much. It is a colorful, thoughtful piece and it keeps tugging at you. Yes it does.

50 Foot Spider...

Well, if this doesn't beat anything you've yet seen - in 2009 - then I'm surprised. Don't miss this!

50 foot spider

A Gentle Masterpiece...

A good friend of many years from Wisconsin responded to one of my blogs with a film recommendation. An Irish film called "Once."

We rented it and watched it tonight and both of us were deeply moved by this gentle story of two young musicians who meet and become good, good friends. They make wonderful music together and expand the stifled dignity hiding inside each of them.

One of the best films I have seen in years.

Incidentally, my friend expanded on the question I raised in my blog regarding what is truly sexy. His definition: "warm and tender and full of possibilities."

I have good friends.

Political Illustrations...

I don't know how David Klein does this, but am quite impressed. This for your weekend enjoyment.

http://www.davidkleinart.com/Political_Illustrations.html

My Lost Love...

When we moved to smaller digs, we realized that some of our most treasured activities would have to be sacrificed - or drastically watered down. There is simply not enough room for passions that have  large footprints.

For me it meant I had to give up potting in the sanctuary of my own home. No room for a wheel and a kiln. No way. And the delightful clay clubs that community resources for retired ceramic hobbyists simply flew in the face of one who treasures silence and creativity of a meditative sort.

So, I sensibly substituted photography, blogging and carving walking sticks - which offer highly satisfying outlets for creativity combined with very small footprints. It is a wonderful pilgrimage.

But I have a lost love. The love for clay. How I miss it.

Across the years we have accumulated many pots from great potters. We feast from mugs and plates thrown and glazed and fired by good friends and admired superstars of the international potting community. We cook with pots created by native American Pueblo potters. (We've met several of them.) We even use some of my stuff. Every day. We love them. Both of us.

Today I read a couple of blogs written by colleague Joe Bennion of Utah. They were so powerful and sweet that I would have to call them painful. See for yourself if the subject intrigues you. They certainly touched my memories and my soul.

http://www.horseshoemountainpottery.com/joe/blog/?p=396

http://www.horseshoemountainpottery.com/joe/blog/?p=393

MY HEART WAS STRANGELY WARMED...

Yes. A gift for your weekend. Annie Leibovitz.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ukm6zcj1dns&feature=related

Sinatra...

There was an intriguing post in USA Weekend about Frank Sinatra.

Steve Wynn, casino and resort owner, asked him how he went about recording a song. Sinatra thought a few moments and said this:

"I take a sheet with just the lyrics. No music. At that point, I'm looking at a poem. I'm trying to understand the point of view of the person behind the words. I want to understand his emotions. Then I start speaking, not singing, the words so I can experiment and get the right inflections. When I get with the orchestra, I sing the words without a microphone first, so I can adjust the way I've been prscticing to the arrangement. I'm looking to fit the emotion behind the song that I've come up with to the music. Then it all comes together. You sing the song. If the take is good, you're done."

"Did you know he only recorded My Way once and then walked out of the studio?"

Words and Images...

Georgia O'Keefe once wrote:

"I found I could say things with color and shapes that I couldn't say any other way - things I had no words for.”

I can identify with that.  It never ceases to amaze me that, if my understanding of the art and science of blog "hit counting" is correct, I have between 35 and 50 people (speaking generally) who read this blog every day.

On the other hand, between 150 and 400 folks check out my photoblog each day. One picture, well done, can surely be worth many words.

Ms. O'Keefe put her finger on something, I think. I spent my entire professional life working with, playing with, words - written and spoken. Lately, almost two years now,  I have written one or two blogs a day. I love words, well used.

But, taken with proper respect, they aren't easy to come by. Used with carelessness they are easy to bore.

One blogger friend, Fiona Robyn, has a little daily blog  that usually consists of one sentence that obviously comes from her heart. To me, this is a fine way of using words. It is brief, imaginative and to the point. Further, it comes from Fiona - it is not derivative.

This is one kind of blog. I like it. Her little seeds of thoughtfulness stretch me and stick with me for a while, like a nice taste of good garlic or coconut.

As to colors and visual art - well, that takes even more thought and discipline. It also sinks a bit deeper into the sensitive mind.

Makes you think and wonder what life is all about.

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On Christmas - A Gift of What Art Can Do...

A wonderful gift from friend and blogger, Suburban Life, who quotes from a blog, "Sexuality in Art", that I had not known about until today - Christmas Eve.

I must say that this has been the most confusing Christmas season in my memory. A bit more like the Tower of Babel story than the Nativity.

So, as often is the case, the world of weblogs ties some loose ends together in a satisfying way.

Art Can . . .

- - - -

Art Can . . .

bring order from randomness

frame music from noise

draw ideas out of silence

integrate intellect and the senses

focus energies into action

Art Can . . .

transform words into definitions

connect people who perceived they were alone

remind us of our reasons

create other paths of communication

allow us to communicate kindness to strangers

Art Can . . .

simultaneously communicate simplicity and complexity

improve our emotional feelings

save us from forgetting

link us to our pasts and our futures

let others know what we have and we don’t have

Art Can . . .

reveal the practiced and considered

warm and stimulate a depressed mind

join together common wants

change perceptions from unattractive to appealing

enable amazing gifts that ”only useful” would miss

Art Can . . .

let the quiet shine

invite multiple mediums of expression in a world that encourages specialization

incorporate love and caring with instruction

show how enemies can also be kindred spirits

add to our reasons to live

Art can light the darkness

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