The Heir Apparent

Where can you go in DC this month to see a cranky wildly bewigged miser erroneously thought to be a corpse, feisty amorous twenty-somethings cavorting in 17th-century costume, a fantastically attired and exceedingly speedy cross-dressing gentleman, and an adorable live piglet, involved in a ridiculous yet intricate story spoken entirely in clever and hilarious verse (well, except by the piglet) in which all will be satisfyingly resolved by the end?

HeirApparent

As far as I know, only at the Lansburgh Theater, in the current production of The Heir Apparent, written by Jean-François Regnard in French but brilliantly adapted into English (with sneaky modern references) by David Ives. If you would like to spend an entire evening laughing, run run run to get a ticket.

(No photography is allowed, but they don’t say a thing about sketching. Which is a bit tricky in the dark.)

Today is also the anniversary of the emancipation of poet and colonial slave Phillis Wheatley (circa 1753-1784). For a painting, poem, and mini-bio, please see An Hymn to Phillis.

 

Let justice roll down like waters

MLKMemorial

Today is the official opening of the new Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial (postponed from its earlier date due to Hurricane Irene). However, my son and I got up very early one weekday morning a couple of weeks ago and biked down through Rock Creek Park to see it sans crowds, and, indeed, our only companions were uniformed park service staff.

I realize that this monument has been somewhat controversial, what with complaints about the determinedly literal concept and the outsourcing to China and the misleading engraved quotation. But as I walked along reading King’s words and beheld his sunlit figure gazing intently across the Tidal Basin—and pondered the changes of the last fifty years, for much of which this man, so far ahead of his time, was responsible—I could only be moved. I look forward to returning in all seasons of the year.

Today is also the birthday of Supreme Court Justice William O. Douglas (1898-1980), whom we can thank for the preservation and restoration of the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal as a park, with hiking trails and bike paths, thus averting its transformation into a highway. This is where you go in Washington, DC if you want to see hometown bald eagles, or the first bluebells. For sketches and a mini-bio, please see Justice of the Peace.

CakeBlackEyeSusanAunt Bett


 

Brotherly Love Part 1

I post this travel sketch of a London street in honor of the birthday and birthplace of William Penn (1644-1718), who actually seems to have truly been the laudable character recorded in our childhood history books.

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Son of a prosperous knighted admiral and his wife, herself the daughter of a rich Dutch merchant, Penn could have chosen to follow in the footsteps of others of his class, enjoying a life of comfortable privilege on property confiscated by Cromwell from political opponents and dispossessed Irish peasantry. He received the usual rigorous grammar school education accorded boys in his position, studying reading and writing, religion, mathematics, Latin, and Greek from 6am to 6pm, walking the two miles each way between home and the schoolhouse. Be sure to repeat this part to your children when they object to their many burdens.

One Sunday morning, William’s father invited Thomas Loe, a traveling preacher, to lead a service in the family castle. It was an invitation the Admiral had cause to regret, because Mr. Loe, a follower of George Fox, spoke so eloquently of Quakerism that he left a permanent impression upon young William.

At sixteen William went off to Oxford, encountering for the first time extravagantly dressed fellow students who, instead of studying, spent their time, and their parents’ money, playing cards, drinking, and one can only imagine what else. William, however, was drawn to a small handful of progressive, troublesome students who met to discuss surreptitiously such inflammatory subjects as freedom of worship, and who also dared to miss several chapel services. For which they were expelled. Whereas presumably the party-down crowd remained at Oxford as long as they faithfully paid their gambling debts.

Angry and disappointed, Willam’s father gave him a good beating and sent him off on the Grand Tour of Europe to knock some sense into him, an unusual approach to teenage misbehavior not in current use. Perhaps a taste of Parisian society, thought the Admiral, would show William the folly of his queer religious ideas! On the Continent, William acquired fluency in French and a much better wardrobe, but he soon tired of court life and resumed his studies among a group of French Huguenots who (for the moment, anyway) enjoyed an inspiring period of religious freedom.

Back home, although initially cutting an impressive new figure in society, William soon dashed his father’s hopes once again by attending Quaker meetings, sympathizing with the plight of thousands of Quakers imprisoned for their refusal to follow the Church of England, writing to the government in their defense, and eventually serving time in prison himself. On top of this he began to court a Quaker lass. His father was in despair. Beatings, lengthy trips to France, even threats of disinheritance had no effect. What could be done with such recalcitrant offspring?

To Be Continued

Today is also the birthday of Edward Estlin Cummings (1894-1962), known as e e cummings. For a painting and a poem, please see this is the garden.

 

Birthday

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Today is the birthday of my cousin Dianne and her twin sister Monica. Dianne would have been 53. She passed away this past Sunday, October 2nd, after a year-long struggle with two rare blood disorders. Dianne was so optimistic and cheerful throughout the course of this painful condition and its equally (if not more) painful treatments that both family and hospital staff really thought she would pull through. She leaves behind a beloved husband and two sons, as well as the large extended family of siblings, in-laws, nieces and nephews who provided a warm loving ongoing support system, for her and for each other. Now continuing, as necessary as ever in the wake of her loss.

I see that the card I made for her last birthday (detail above) has an entirely different meaning today.

CakeBeachDianne CakeAutLeaves2Monica


 

Camp Trinity

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Each year at this time, we head for the wilds of Far Western Virginia and our annual church retreat, some of the housing for which is depicted herein (which used to be pretty chilly digs but which now offers baseboard heaters for the 21st century camper).

It’s a weekend that is difficult to describe: certainly there is plenty of serious discussion, reflection, prayer, and singing; but interwoven are hiking, yoga, dancing, hay rides, sessions of watercolor painting and dream work, and time for the more lengthy, intimate conversations for which the Sunday coffee hour is too brief.

The children play community-building games and create spirited art objects that enliven the setting of our closing liturgy. For our daughter’s Middle School group, this meant building and joyously spray-painting enormous colorful internally-illuminated free-standing totems that would be perfectly comfortable on the floor of the Whitney.

Every single year, departure for home is poignant. I post this sketch-memory as a token of gratitude.

For Camp Trinity sketches from past years, please see Holy Water and  Stairway to Heaven.

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CakeWeddingMary & Chris


 

Rainy Day Joys (Left Side)

What a pleasure to have a mostly-rainy week whose only rhythms are three daily meals and walking the dog. (And many hands make light work.) Early walks, followed by a little recorder, or sketching, or a game of cards, or curling up with a book. With a pot of split pea soup simmering on the stove.

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CakeSprinklesAnne

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The Survivor Tree

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This summer I completed the illustrations and layout for The Survivor Tree, a book by Cheryl Somers Aubin, created to help children deal with the traumatic experiences suffered on September 11th, 2001, in particular, and with loss and the struggle to heal, in general. Here is a brief summary of the book.

A month after the collapse of the Twin Towers, workers on the site discovered a few green leaves showing through the gray concrete and ash. Clearing the debris, they found a badly injured Callery Pear Tree. She was rescued and taken to a nursery outside the city and put into the care of Richie, a City Parks worker. No one was sure if she would live, but the following spring, a dove built a nest in her branches, and new green buds appeared.

Over the years, the tree, although still bearing scars, grew tall and strong, and last year she was replanted on the 9/11 Memorial Plaza. This story imaginatively describes the experiences, memories, and feelings of the tree throughout her healing and her eventual return home.

The book is available from Amazon.com and BarnesandNoble.com. All profits from its sale go to charity.

Yahrzeit3 Jim