Wyeth Sky

Wyeth Sky

N.C. Wyeth sky, cobalt and cumulus.
Cotton candy, billowed snow,
thrilling show in a big top circus.

Giants stride through ocean waves.

Children watch, amazed, at Crusoe
swing upstage to colonial caves

in search of Magua and Monro.
Robin Hood wakes old Van Winkle,
up the Brandywine they row

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in search of native Navajo. In vein,
these fabled men did not restrain
the saddest Pagliacci pain,

over Chadds Ford landscape, dynasty reigned.
Too soon cut down by a racing steel train.

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Willow, 2009

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I love to call a deep blue sky with huge puffy clouds an "N.C. Wyeth

sky". We had a glorious one here in Ohio earlier this week and it

inspired me to write this poem. It is speculated that Wyeth's tragic

death in 1945, at a local Chadd's Ford railroad crossing, was a

suicide.

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And, hey, did you notice I slipped in Pagliacci? (click for recent post)

Opera's on the brain this week!)

Cancer, June 22-July 22, is the fourth sign of the zodiac and is
represented by a crab. The origin of Cancer the Crab is most likely in
Babylon, but twin turtles were associated with this sign in Egypt,
where Thoth, the god of astronomy ruled the constellation. The crab
suggests that people born under this sign will retreat into their shell
if they feel hurt. Cancer is a water sign, linked with feelings. Cancer
also love the sea and its treasures. Like the oyster, they have a hard,
protective shell.

This is a sign with great sensitivity. Cancerians are often kind,
thoughtful and aware of the need of others. They can, however, be
moody and enjoy spending time at home, where they can retreat if
they feel hurt. The home plays a very significant role, symbolic of
security and refuge. The need to protect self and family is a chief
characteristic.

Food and cooking are often important to Cancerians, as well as
matriarchal values. Cancer is ruled by the moon, which is linked to
motherhood. Body parts associated with Cancer are the breasts,
womb and the stomach. Children are very important to those born
under this sign.

The gemstone for this sign is the pearl (hmm, not surprising, since it
is from the oyster). Flowers are lily, acanthus, geranium, white rose
and white flowers in general. The metal is silver and color silver grey.
The countries associated are Scotland, Holland, North and West
Africa, New Zealand, Paraguay and Algeria.

I'm a little late in posting, but a very Happy Birthday to all my
bloggy friends who fall under this month's sign of Cancer!

Theme Thursday - Stage

It is impossible for me to write about the subject of "stage" without

bringing up the opera stage and my favorite opera singer, who also

happens to be my daughter, by the way, the talented and lovely

mezzo-soprano, Elspeth Kincaid.

Elspeth's most recent role was that of Siebel in Opera Tampa's

production of Gounod's Faust this past April. If you're not familiar

with this opera, the role of Siebel is a "pants role", a male character

sung and acted by a female, usually a mezzo-soprano. I was

completely amazed at the transformation. Not only does Elspeth

have a rich, beautiful mezzo voice, but she has the uncanny ability

to completely step into a role and become that character, whether it

be a flighty girl, an old hag, or even a handsome young man.

Can you believe this? She really has a "Leonardo Dicaprio" thing

going on here, don't you think? Amazing. I'll have to admit, the

makeup artist did a marvelous job, too, with the wig and makeup

She had the good fortune to work with the renowned American opera

conductor and composer, Maestro Anton Coppola, in this production

of Faust. Most of you will recognize the talented family name. He is

the uncle of film director Francis Ford Coppola, with family ties to

Nicholas Cage and director Sophia Coppola.

The opera took place in the beautiful Tampa Bay performing Arts

Center. Here's a view from the back of the stage during one of her

rehearsals.

A bird doesn't sing because it has an answer,

it sings because it has a song.

Maya Angelou

overheard at the manor

WT: (poking his head in the back door) Hey, Honey, I brought you

a present.

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Willow: You did? What?

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WT: Look at this great fossil I found down at the river!

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Willow: Wow...I think this is the biggest one you've found, yet.

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WT: What do you think it is?

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Willow: Giant slug. No, not you, silly...the fossil!

Maybe my bloggies will know what it is...

This just in:

Kate Blackwell just sent me a website that includes Rugose

corals, an extinct order of coral, as well as fossilized horns, as a

possibility. I'm adding this marvelous drawing by Ernst Haeckel

of Rugosa, 1904. Thanks, Kate!

foodie post

These pork cheeseburgers, with a little Latin flair, are a delightful

variation of the regular beef variety. All at the manor gave them a

huge two thumbs up. They're extra juicy and so flavorful. This

recipe is another great find from the June issue of Gourmet. Give

them a whirl and let me know what you think. I'm definitely making

them again soon.

Chipotle Pork Cheeseburgers

1 lb fresh ground pork (not lean)

2 tsp minced canned chipotle in adobo, plus 1 tsp adobo sauce

2 garlic cloves forced through press

4 slices Muenster cheese

4 hamburger buns, toasted

1/4 cup mayo

1 large tomatillo, husked, rinsed and sliced (I couldn't find one, so

subbed a tomato, but the tomatillo would have made a difference.)

1/2 avocado, sliced

1/2 cup cilantro sprigs

Mix the pork with the chipotle and garlic, with salt to taste, until just

combined. Form into four patties and grill. Melt cheese on patties.

Top with mayo, tomatillo, avocado, cilantro. Yum. Yum. Yum.

Knots and Earworms

I was doing some ancestral research a few years ago. For several

days, I concentrated on my great-great-grandmother, Mary. Not

only was I searching through census lists, trying to locate her mother,

sister and brother, who were all separated after her father died in the

Civil War, but I was empathizing with her feelings on losing a father,

as well as, later in life, a young son.

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Over the course of the days while I was doing this research, a song,

out of nowhere, kept playing over and over again in my head. Finally,

it was driving me nutty and I had to look it up. It was a slow version

of Listen to the Mockingbird, a song very popular during the Civil

War, with sad lyrics about a singer, dreaming of his sweetheart, dead

and buried, and a mockingbird singing over her grave. I certainly

hadn't heard this song anywhere and thought it a strange earworm.

It suddenly came to mind, that it must have a connection to Mary,

who I had been thinking about so intently.

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After telling this to my sister this weekend, I was inspired to write

this poem.

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Maternal Knots

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My foremothers, apron to apron,

bind generations

with deer hide knots and Irish muslin.

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Their spirits beam ancestral pride,

within my household walls

did hide, as newborns cried;

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lulled to sleep with fiddle tunes

of mockingbird,

native chant and Celtic runes.

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Weave 'round their offspring

gentle ties, connecting each

with tribal string;

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maternal knots join with the earth,

will reason for each new one's birth.

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Willow, 2009

facial drama

Betsy and I had a great visit this weekend. We spent hours upon
hours happily chatting about any and everything. Plenty of time,
of course, was devoted to the discussion of political, religious and
social issues. Then, we moved on to more pressing and intriguing
topics, like eyebrows.


Can you believe there are those who still like to tweeze and pencil
their brows into that 1950's style raised arch? It's so severe and
brings to mind the Vampira look. Scary. My youngest sister tried to
dye hers at home once. The result was the woolly-caterpillar brow.
Equally as scary.

In the case of brow makeup, as we get older, perhaps less is more,
unless, of course, you are trying to achieve that John-Crawford-
Mommy-Dearest look. Eyebrows do set the stage as far as the face
is concerned, don't you think? The wrong look can be very misleading.


Take the case of poor Uncle Leo on Seinfeld. Remember that
hilarious episode where his eyebrows were singed off and Elaine
draws them on with a magic marker? He then visits his doctor, who
is convinced he has an anger problem. It really is all about the brows.


Just as bad, are the over-tweezed-Gloria-Swanson brows. They can
do just the polar opposite, as far as facial drama, by putting you in a
constant state of dazed, non-emotion. The "I don't have much going
on upstairs" look is not always so attractive, either.


Have you ever been forced to participate in brow intervention?
Someone near and dear to you has a severe case of tadpole brow?
Or maybe even a case of the dreaded unibrow? It's not always easy,
but our loved ones must be helped. WT, left to his own devices,
develops a sorry case of Hugh-Griffith-Arab-sheik-Ben-Hur brows.
He tells me he wants to wax, twist them and start a trend. Well,
we'll see about that.

Sunshine

I left a comment over on Yoli's fencing video post about the fabulous

fencing scene done by Ralph Fiennes in the movie Sunshine, 1999.

Then Marc came over and requested a film review of this

masterpiece. I love-love this movie, so how could I possibly refuse?

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The film is basically about three generations of the Sonnenscheins,

(translates sunshine) a Jewish family in Budapest during the

political upheaval in Hungary. The brilliant Ralph Fiennes, who I

adore, by the way, amazingly portrays three men from different

generations of the family. Ignatz, an attorney, at the turn of the

century, who attempts to blend in with society; his son, Adam, an

Olympic gold medalist in fencing, who is blind to fascism; and

Adam's son, Ivan, a political activist who joins the Communist party.

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Also, rounding out the great cast is James Frain, the lovely Jennifer

Ehle, Rachel Weisz (need I say more?), the delightful Rosemary

Harris and William Hurt, who I fell totally in love with, after seeing

Children of a Lesser God.

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Masterfully directed by Istvan Szabo, this film has the sweeping

majestic feel of a David Lean epic. Like Lean, he weaves the story of

intimate family details into a backdrop of historic fact. The lighting

and attention to detail are stunning. Maurice Jarre's haunting music

brings to mind his score for Doctor Zhivago. This wonderful combo

equals magic.

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It is a powerful and breathtakingly gorgeous movie. If you like

history, as well as serious cinematography, you are going to love this

film. Reserve a whole evening for this one. Just like a Lean epic, it's

three hours in length, so put on the popcorn and kick off the flip flops!

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