Category Archives: Art

K is for Kisses, Klimt and Kerouac

 

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Portrait of Helene Klimt by Gustav Klimt, 1898

 

Given that an unexpected sub-theme of art and creativity has emerged alongside my original planned theme of On the Move: Transitions, Travel, and Transformation, I thought I’d go with the flow and have a look at Gustav Klimt (and kissing).

 

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Gustav Klimt, 1914

 

Austrian by birth, Klimt often turned to the female form for inspiration.

 

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The Kiss (1907-1908) by Gustav Klimt – oil and gold leaf on canvas

Kissing, it turns out, is a common subject in art.

 

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The Kiss by Francesco Hayez, 1859

 

I was certainly taken by Rodin’s sculpture, The Kiss during my recent trip to ParisIt’s an impressive piece of sculpture and not just for its size. It has literary connections as well. Apparently, the couple depicted fell in love while reading the story of Lancelot and Guinevere (beware of reading racy literature… you never know where it might lead!)

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Mary Cassatt revisited the image of mothers kissing babies several times including in this painting from 1891 entitled Mother’s Kiss               

 

 

 

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Picasso’s Kiss (1925) is, not surprisingly, inscrutable… 

 

Given that Romeo and Juliet must be one of the most famous couples of all time, it’s hardly surprising that their passionate affair has been captured in art.

 

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The Last Kiss of Romeo and Juliet by Francesco Hayez (1823)

 

Of course, one doesn’t only have to kiss babies and sweethearts. In this next painting, Joan of Arc gets intimate with a sword. And no, that’s not some kind of euphemism.

 

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Joan of Arc Kisses the Sword of Liberation by Dante Gabriel Rossetti, 1863

 

Considering I’m supposed to be a writer, I’ve been largely ignoring the literary arts in these posts, something I’ll endeavour to address from here on… Jack Kerouac’s novel On the Road might not have been about kissing per se, but reading the novel when I was younger definitely instilled in me a love of the open road and – road trips! When I was looking through my photos for shots that might tie in with Kerouac, road trips, or kissing, I came across this one:

 

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Sorry, Dad – avert your eyes. I call this one Texas Kiss and Kick. It was part of a selfie series we took when we were on a climbing/camping road trip in the southern USA several years ago.  

I do love road trips. Looking through those photos makes me want to load up the car with snacks and head off … Kansas, maybe. Or Kentucky?

Are you a road trip fan? What’s your favourite road trip destination?

 

 

 

 

 

J is for Jumping Jehosephat! (AtoZChallenge2018)

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This morning I was hanging out in my jammies listening to Dolly Parton (what’s not to love about Jolene, Jolene, Please Don’t Take My Man, right Sheryl McFarlane?), wondering what on earth I was going to write about for the letter J when I started Jonesin’ for a blog post topic. Yeah, I’ll admit it, I was feeling jittery when I considered jumping online and reaching out on social media to see if I might score a hit of inspiration. I typed up a Facebook post asking for help and hesitated before thinking, hell – Just do It!   (Thanks, Jenny…)

 

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Sorting through my myriad options proved to be a juicy task… The word juice reminded me of our recent journey to Spain where sipping freshly squeezed orange juice was one of the (many) joyous experiences along the Camino. 

 

Jesus! The response was overwhelming! Before I knew it I had a list a mile long and my dilemma had switched from being desperate for a single idea to a thousand possibilities jostling for position. How could I possibly do them all justice? At some point I said I would cut off the submissions and would use every word suggested in this blog post… a promise I soon realized was both foolish and optimistic. How to juxtapose juniper (something you’d likely catch a whiff of in June or July) with joggle? Joggle isn’t even a word, though it’s such a good suggestion (from writer Dayle Gaetz) that I couldn’t resist including it. As Dayle explained, it’s what happens when a jogger jiggles while underway…

 

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I like to include relevant images whenever possible, so though I was a bit short of photos of jellybeans, I did find this one of Fabio jumping from one boulder to another on a climbing journey a couple of years ago… I confess I experienced a surge of joy when he made it safely to the other side of the chasm. 

No longer in a jam, I found myself with options in not one, but two official languages (thanks, Dad).

 

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The Juggler by Marc Chagall, 1943 (Original title Le Jongleur)

 

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The original title of this horse head on a yellow background by Fernand Leger is “Tête de cheval sur fond jaune” (1953). Joli, n’est pas?

 

 

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And while we are on the artwork section of the blog post, how about this jester? The painting dates from 1442 and is called Portrait of the Ferrara Court Jester Gonella and is by Jean Fouquet. 

 

Feeling pretty joyeux at this point (I mean, look at all those Js!!!!), I took a break to julienne some root vegetables for dinner and then joined a couple of ice climbers for a quick chat at a local watering hole (I had to retrieve an ice screw that had inadvertently made its way into someone else’s gear bag). After a bit of verbal jousting about whose ice tools are superior, I decided to leave the guys to their dessert and head for home, but not before seeing a few photos from what looks to have been a great day of skiing not far from here. It’s hard not to be jealous when you see such glorious images of the kinds of places you can only get to with a Jeep, some time in hand, and a decent pair of skis.

This post could have been a Jeremiad (look that one up, I had to), in which I complained bitterly about the paucity of worthy words beginning with J. Instead, no joking, I was about as far out of this world with joy as Jupiter (sorry, had to reuse joy and tossing Jupiter in definitely feels a tad awkward…).  Maybe after a cup of jasmine tea I’ll be able to come up with a better final paragraph. On the other hand, I may find myself distracted by the Jets (of Winnipeg fame) who are playing their hearts out on their way (we can only hope) to the Stanley Cup!! Maybe I shouldn’t write that here… it might jinx the team…

 

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Donkeys or Jackasses? You decide… (Franz Marc, 1911)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

H is for Home

 

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This series of travel-themed blog posts would not be complete without the obligatory out-of-the-plane-window shot…

 

I’m a good traveller. It doesn’t take long for me to feel at home wherever I find myself. One of the ways I accomplish this settling in is to unpack a few of my favourite things…

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Oh my but I ate well in Paris! This was breakfast at my Air BNB… fresh fruit, Greek yogurt and some fine dark chocolate. Ooooh la-la… Peeking out to the right is the outline for the book about medically-assisted suicide… top left corner some of the many writing/drawing/colouring instruments I took with me… maps, of course, to orient myself, a notebook and my bullet journal to make sure I stayed on track and didn’t miss out on anything essential during my stay.

I like to unpack my bags, even if I’m only staying for a few days. I never travel without taking work with me – last week I took along a book I’m reviewing for the Ormsby Review and the current work in progress (the book for teenagers about medically assisted dying).  This is one of the great advantages and simultaneous disadvantages of working for myself. Home, wherever that may be, is also my office. There is no escaping. So, while it may sound delightful to be able to go to work in pj’s, the reality is that there is no such thing as leaving anything at the office.

These days, my office fits neatly into a small backpack, so at this very moment I’m taking a break from said dying book and working on this blog entry at the local Starbucks in Canmore.

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That’s me in my plaid shirt. The tangle of wires around my neck are my wireless (I know… that’s a lot of wires for wireless) headphones. I like to listen to music (of my choice) while I’m working. On the walk (or drive) to and from the coffee shop, I like to listen to audio books. I wish I could listen to audio books or podcasts while I write, but it seems the areas of the brain engaged are too similar. Sadly, I don’t hear a word of what I’m listening to… I’ve tried. It would be so cool to be able to read and write at the same time!

At home, as in my actual more or less regular place of residence, something that makes the place feel homey is having pictures up on the wall. I’ve got these photos up on a shelf in my office (Dani had them made for my 50th birthday) and here and there in the condo

 

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Family photos… time travel, of a kind. Dani printed a series of photos of me in each decade of my life and displayed them at my surprise birthday party. She also arranged to have people from my past show up for the event. It was quite the celebration, I must say… and one I am transported back to each time I look up from my desk and see the row of photos. 

 

I also have various of Dad’s paintings up on the walls (most are reproductions… sadly, I can’t afford the real thing!). I’m particularly fond of this one – a print of a painting Dad did of me riding one of my horses on a rare snowy day near Victoria.

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Dad is the same way, actually. When he travels he also takes a bit of home (and his studio) with him.

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In Spain last fall when we walked a section of the Camino de Santiago with Dani
he drew and painted most days, setting up in a corner of the hostel common room or pulling out his sketch pad at restaurants and bars we stopped at along the way.

 

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My home office doesn’t look so different to my home away from home office… 

 

Home is where your work is? Maybe that’s how it’s going to be more and more often as we move into the world of Digital Nomads who choose to live and work wherever the wind blows them…

And, just because today is H day, here’s a link to a short animated video about the search for happiness… From one of my favourite websites, Short of the Week…

 

 

 

 

G is for Goya, Guernica, Gaugin and van Gogh (AtoZChallenge)

 

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This portrait of the Spanish painter, Goya by Vicente Lopez Portaña was completed in 1826. Though it’s in the collection of the Prado Museum in Madrid, I don’t remember seeing it… Hardly surprising considering just how overwhelming that museum is. 

It has been said that Goya was the last of the great masters and the first of the modern painters which makes him a transition, of sorts. (If you haven’t been following along this month, my theme for the AtoZ Blogging Challenge is Travel, Transitions, and Transformations… ).

 

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I’m including this painting by Goya because of its title, The Second of May, 1808 (my birthday is on May 2nd… and isn’t a birthday often a time of transition?) The French invaded Spain and the two nations battled during the Peninsular War (1808-1914). The painting is rather gory, gruesome, and grim…

Goya, like a number of Spanish painters, spent time in France (he hung out in Bordeaux for a number of years). Picasso is another with strong ties to both nations.

 

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Picassos’s Guernica (1937)   Guernica is a Basque town in Spain that was bombed on April 26, 1937 by Germany as a means of lending a hand to the Spanish Nationalists.                                                                     (La exposición del Reina-Prado. Guernica is in the collection of Museo Reina Sofia, Madrid.Source page: http://www.picassotradicionyvanguardia.com/08R.php (archive.org), Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=1683114)

While I was in Paris I went to a lecture which I thought was going to be about Picasso’s painting, Guernica. I imagined slides that would focus on specific details and then describe how and why Picasso chose the imagery he did.

The talk (in the basement of the Picasso Museum) was all in French, so I only caught bits and pieces, but it seemed to be more about Picasso’s role in the Spanish ex-pat artist community in Paris and his involvement with bringing what was going on during the Spanish Civil War to a broader audience than it was about deconstructing the painting in great detail. Despite the fact I struggled to follow along, it was a pretty cool experience to attend the lecture and doing so made me all the more determined to PRACTICE MY FRENCH between trips.

 

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Jug in the Form of a Head, Self Portrait by Paul Gaugin

I am including this jug by the French artist Gaugin because of the macabre story behind its creation. Gaugin had been visiting with Vincent van Gogh when Vincent lopped off part of his left ear. I’m not sure why, but Vincent left the ear at a brothel both he and Gaugin liked to visit. What does seem to be clear is that all of this ear-lopping upset Gaugin, who left town shortly after the incident. Back in Paris, Gaugin was unfortunate enough to witness the beheading of a criminal. This jug/self-portrait makes reference to both these traumatic incidents and goes to show that no experience in life is wasted when one is an artist. It’s a great example of transforming trauma into something compelling (I was going to say beautiful, but I don’t find the jug to be beautiful… but yes, compelling).

 

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Vincent van Gogh painted this portrait of Gaugin in 1888  ( Man in a Red Beret)

 

 

I hadn’t planned to include so many works of art in these posts, but art really is transformative in the way it can make us take another look at pretty much anything we experience (or can imagine). From some initial spark or idea or observation, artists create something worthy of our attention. Then we consumers of art respond and dissect and analyze and are moved by the product of their labours, which is a strange kind of alchemy indeed.

 

 

 

 

 

E is For Eggs (AtoZChallenge2018)

 

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Girl with a Basket of Eggs, by Joachim Beuckelaer, early 17th Century

The egg is the perfect physical embodiment of the concept of transformation in one, neat package of potential. Back in my farm days I never tired of tending an incubator full of eggs, monitoring temperature and humidity, tracking every time I turned the eggs (2-4 times per day) on a spreadsheet, counting down the days until the hatch began. The eggs didn’t change in appearance, but inside, miracles were occurring.

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By marking one side of each egg (these are turkey eggs) with an X I knew which side was up.

After 3-4 weeks (exactly how long depends on what kind of poultry I was hatching), the eggs began to twitch and vibrate as the inhabitants started plotting their escapes. Soon, muffled peeping began to emanate from the incubator. Using a knobby bit on the tops of their beaks (called an egg tooth), the hatchlings hammered upward, piercing the shells and not stopping until tiny cracks and holes formed a ring around the fatter end of the shell. The following two videos show the final step in this process when the little one would crack off the lid of the egg and splurt out (these are turkey poults).

During the days of rapid growth and change during incubation, the yolk provided all the energy needed to transform the fertilized egg into a fully formed creature capable of escaping from a claustrophobic prison. After a short rest during which they dried off and fluffed up, they were ready to eat, drink, and run about with surprising enthusiasm.

 

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We kept a mixed flock of hens, in part because we enjoyed the range of colours and textures they produced in their egg shells. Depending on what the hens were eating, the yolks ranged in colour from canary yellow to deep, dark orange. 

 

 

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One of the hatchlings, all grown up. And, yes, the fact my beak was beginning to match the chicken’s is not lost on me. It’s a good thing I left farming when I did or I might have started sprouting feathers. 

It’s hardly surprising that eggs, being of a particularly satisfying shape and containing, as they do, the cosmically mysterious beginnings of life have made many appearances in art.

 

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Still Life: Jug and Eggs by Roger Fry

They are also a familiar sight in most kitchens. Every morning I make gluten free muffin-esque bun thingies, each of which contains an egg. They are substantial enough that having one with cheese or nut butter sustains me through a morning of writing. Here’s the recipe:

Nikki’s Gluten Free Breakfast Bun Thingies

1 egg

1 T olive oil

1/2 mashed banana

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

1 T ground flax seed

1 T almond flour

1/2 T coconut flour

1 T shredded coconut (optional)

1 T finely chopped walnuts (optional)

 

Mix together the egg, oil and banana. Add the remaining ingredients, mixing well. Spray a 2 c-size ramekin with olive oil-based cooking spray (I’ve also used olive oil to grease the ramekin, but don’t find that works quite as well). 

Pour the mix into the ramekin and microwave for 2 minutes and 30 seconds. 

You can either eat these hot and soft or cut in half (or thirds, if yours rises a lot – this varies a bit) and toast before serving with your choice of butter, cheese, nut butter, honey, or jam. 

 

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There is so much going on in The Garden of Earthly Delights by Hieronymus Bosch it’s hardly surprising I didn’t remember this detail until I went looking for examples of eggs in art… 

What’s your favourite way to prepare eggs? I like them pretty much any way they can be served except, weirdly enough, Eggs Benedict. Keep that in mind should you ever have me over for brunch…

 

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Did you know it takes a hen 24 – 26 hours to make a single egg? Old Woman Selling Eggs, by Hendrick Bloemaert (1632)