Sense Of Something Coming

February 15, 2011 by Sheila Leave a comment

Here is a sketch, from a few years ago, of my son at leisure. He is now leading a busy life teaching, writing, and painting, and is gifted for all three, yet restlessly wondering what lies around the next corner. For his birthday today I post this poem. Happy Birthday, dear Devin, and take heart.

I am like a flag in the center of open space.

I sense ahead the wind which is coming, and must live

it through.

while the things of the world still do not move:

the doors still close softly, and the chimneys are full

of silence,

the windows do not rattle yet, and the dust still lies down.

I already know the storm, and I am troubled as the sea.

I leap out, and fall back,

and throw myself out, and am absolutely alone

in the great storm.

—Rainer Maria Rilke

Devin

Cats

February 13, 2011 by Sheila 1 Comment

This rather fierce-looking cat is Minou, the spoiled darling of the concierge, painted in our long-ago Paris days. Minou is undoubtedly long gone, but she pretty much ruled the roost while she was around. I post her portrait here, along with this poem, in honor of Eleanor Farjeon (1881-1965), whose birthday it is today. For a brief bio of the delightful Farjeon, another of her poems, and a painting, please see Morning Has Broken.

Cats sleep

Anywhere,

Any table,

Any chair,

Top of piano,

Window-ledge,

In the middle,

On the edge,

Open drawer,

Empty shoe,

Anybody’s

Lap will do,

Fitted in a

Cardboard box,

In the cupboard

With your frocks –

Anywhere!

They don’t care!

Cats sleep

Anywhere.

—Eleanor Farjeon

Sara

Call the Ewes to the Hills

January 25, 2011 by Sheila 1 Comment

Today is the birthday of poet Robert Burns (1759-1796), and if you are a lover of his poetry perhaps you may be inspired to host a Burns Supper tonight. You will have to make your own haggis from scratch, however (good luck with that), because apparently the importation of haggis to the United States remains forbidden, as are all food products made with lungs. (Mystifyingly, Spam, although of questionable provenance, can be purchased without a special license and is consumed in this country at the rate of 3.8 cans per second.) Along with sampling haggis, you may toast the poet and each other with whiskey, and when sufficiently inspired recite some of your favorite Burns poems.

In honor of Burns’ birthday I post a song (with a helpful glossary at the end) which I have sung many a time to my children as they drifted off to sleep. (You can listen to a far lovelier rendition by singer Anne Lewis here.) The sketch is from my Ireland sketchbook. For another Burns sketch, please see Move Yer Hurdies.

Ca’ the yowes to the knowes,
Ca’ them where the heather grows,
Ca’ them where the burnie rows,
My bonnie dearie.

Hark! the mavis’ evening sang
Sounding Clouden’s woods amang,
Then a-faulding let us gang,
My bonnie dearie.

We’ll gae down by Clouden side,
Through the hazels spreading wide,
O’er the waves that sweetly glide
To the moon sae clearly.

Yonder Clouden’s silent towers,
Where at moonshine midnight hours
O’er the dewy bending flowers
Fairies dance sae cheery.

Ghaist nor bogle shalt thou fear;
Thou’rt to Love and Heaven sae dear,
Nocht of ill may come thee near,
My bonnie dearie.

Fair and lovely as thou art,
Thou hast stown my very heart;
I can die–but canna part,
My bonnie dearie.

While waters wimple to the sea;
While day blinks in the lift sae hie;
Till clay-cauld death shall blin’ my e’e,
Ye shall be my dearie.

—Robert Burns

A-faulding: Sheep-gathering

Burnie: Small brook

Gang: Go

Knowes: Hills

Mavis: Thrush

Rows: Rolls

Yowes: Ewes

Girl On Fire!

January 7, 2011 by Sheila Leave a comment

Today is the birthday of now-grown-up Emily, and I could not resist putting up this less than stellar sketch of her, simply because of the backstory. It was a quickie made after a big holiday party my husband and I threw years ago when Emily was almost four.

For this event, I had made a Cookie Tree of stacked largest to smallest star-shaped cookies, the whole decorated with green frosting, M&Ms, and yogurt-covered raisins. (BTW, this is a really fun holiday project if you are not already doing seven thousand other things.) Emily found the Cookie Tree irresistible and, unbeknownst to anyone, was diligently removing and consuming the edible ornaments when her festive holiday deely-bobbers (remember deely-bobbers, anyone?) CAUGHT FIRE from a nearby candle.

Neither Emily nor anyone near her noticed, but my husband (ever the alert host even when in conversation on the opposite side of the room) saw what was happening and struggled through the noisy, chatty throng, grabbed Emily’s flaming headgear, and doused it in somebody’s apple cider. Whew! But poor Emily had to go home bereft of antennae. Happy Birthday, Emily! I hope the only flames today are on your candles.

Emily

Winter-Worship

January 5, 2011 by Sheila Leave a comment

Mother of Darkness, Our Lady,

Suffer our supplications,

our hurts come unto you.

Hear us from absence your dwelling place,

Whose ear we plead for.

End us our outstay

Where darkness is light, what can the dark be,

whose eye is single,

Whose body is filled with splendor

In winter,

inside the snowflake, inside the crystal of ice

Hung like Jerusalem from the tree.

January, rain-wind and sleet-wind,

Snow pimpled and pock-marked,

half slush-hearted, half brocade

Under your noon-dimmed day watch,

Whose alcove we harbor in,

whose waters are beaded and cold.

A journey’s a fragment of Hell,

one inch or a thousand miles.

Darken our disbelief, dog our steps.

Inset our eyesight,

Radiance, loom and sting,

whose ashes rise from the flames.

—Charles Wright

Alanna

Paris Memory

January 2, 2011 by Sheila Leave a comment

Remember the sketch of Don (December 27th)? Here is the other half: Helga, lovely, artistic, playful, generous, kind, and madly in love with Don. When I bring a bouquet from the garden into the house, I think of Helga, who taught me its transformative power. Today is her birthday, but cancer sent her across the rainbow bridge eleven years ago when she was far too young to go. Happy Birthday, Helga. I hope you are surrounded by flowers, with a dog in your lap.

Helga

In Bloom

January 1, 2011 by Sheila Leave a comment

Here is our Christmas cactus, budding and blooming in the midst of winter, a cheerful and optimistic omen for new beginnings.

Thank you for a wonderful year, faithful and enthusiastic blog readers! I have lots of ideas and plans for 2011, although after 365 days of posting I may take a break occasionally and not post EVERY day. But I won’t miss any birthdays. And, if there are people and events that you would like to call to my attention, please feel free to speak up.

Happy New Year to everyone, and may it be a year of budding and blooming for you all.

New Year’s Eve

December 31, 2010 by Sheila Leave a comment

When our son was spending his first New Year’s Eve in Japan, he reported to us on the local celebrations of this most important holiday.

While we at home in the U.S. are staying up late to eat and drink, dance, and generally whoop it up with family, friends, and total strangers, in Japan the courtyards of shrines and temples are slowly filling with hundreds, even thousands, of patient, silent people waiting to make hatsumode—the first visit of the New Year.

On the stroke of midnight, all over the country, the doors open, and the temple bells begin to ring. And they ring for a total of one hundred eight times, representing the 108 sins (such as vanity, garrulity, prejudice, ingratitude, and unruliness) from which humankind must be freed before achieving nirvana. It’s part of a longer turning-of-the-year celebration during which people visit family, pay debts, eat special symbolic foods, and exchange gifts. (Although it seems that in Japan EVERY event—first trip to the dentist?—is an opportunity to exchange gifts.) What a contrast to Times Square, and beyond, where people are probably racking up those 108 sins right and left.

This is a sketch of a temple courtyard (but not on New Year’s Eve) from one of my Japan sketchbooks.

Christopher

Cathedral Creche Exhibition

December 30, 2010 by Sheila Leave a comment

Every year Washington National Cathedral exhibits a number of examples from its large collection of Nativity scenes from around the world. The exhibition runs through January 7th, 2011.

This is one of my favorites, a scene made from mud and animal dung by children in Kenya.

Doug

Garden of Lights

December 29, 2010 by Sheila Leave a comment

If you have never been to the Garden of Lights at Brookside Gardens in Wheaton, Maryland, I recommend it. Inside the Conservatory, different local musicians perform each evening, and you can fortify yourself with hot cocoa. Then, sufficiently warmed, you can venture out into the gardens. In summer this is a place of sunshine and glorious blooming color, but at the moment it’s a magical fairyland of lights twinkling in the darkness.

The best time to visit is when it’s bitterly cold, because it is not crowded. However, you might then be wishing for Irish coffee and hot toddies instead of cocoa.