Watermark

cf. Antoine-Émile Bourdelle, “Irene Millet” (1917) and Edouard Manet, A Bar at the Folies-Bergère (1882)

Yet diaries do, indirectly, lay claim to a certain kind of immortality, projecting a voice beyond the grave. Alice James’s diary was her dialogue with the future. It gave form to her sense of ironic detachment. And it created a communion in her lonely life…

—Jean Strouse, Alice James: A Biography

“Watermark” – Art Garfunkel

Cleopatra

Cincinnati Magazine, 1971

The barge she sat in, like a burnish’d throne,
Burn’d on the water: the poop was beaten gold;
Purple the sails, and so perfumed that
The winds were love-sick with them; the oars were silver,
Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made
The water which they beat to follow faster,
As amorous of their strokes. For her own person,
It beggar’d all description: she did lie
In her pavilion–cloth-of-gold of tissue–
O’er-picturing that Venus where we see
The fancy outwork nature: on each side her
Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids,
With divers-colour’d fans, whose wind did seem
To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool,
And what they undid did.

Antony and Cleopatra
 

“VENUS” :: Shocking Blue by MARVEN Feat Sarah-jane

“Ah, dear father, graybeard, lonely old courage-teacher…”

Arkhip Kuindzhi, “Moonlight Night. Meditation”

What thoughts I have of you tonight Walt Whitman, for I walked down the sidestreets under the trees with a headache self-conscious looking at the full moon…

Will we walk all night through solitary streets? The trees add shade to shade, lights out in the houses, we’ll both be lonely.

Will we stroll dreaming of the lost America of love past blue automobiles in driveways, home to our silent cottage?

Ah, dear father, graybeard, lonely old courage-teacher, what America did you have when Charon quit poling his ferry and you got out on a smoking bank and stood watching the boat disappear on the black waters of Lethe?

–Allen Ginsberg, A Supermarket in California (excerpt)

“Wild nights – Wild nights!”

Childe Hassam, “The Colonial Table” (1915)

Wild nights – Wild nights!
Were I with thee
Wild nights should be
Our luxury!

Futile – the winds –
To a Heart in port –
Done with the Compass –
Done with the Chart!

Rowing in Eden –
Ah – the Sea!
Might I but moor – tonight –
In thee!

–Emily Dickinson

“Between midnight and dawn, when the past is all deception…”

cf. Home Movie PA 000111 and photograph by Kevin Lee via Unsplash

Between midnight and dawn, when the past is all deception,
The future futureless, before the morning watch
When time stops and time is never ending…

–T.S. Eliot, The Dry Salvages

“Yet see in the uncertain sky above your uncertain station– the sign she left you…”

Eastman Kodak Company, “How to make good movies…” (1938)

The many faces of defeat
Invite you home:
They offer you such silence
As has no truck with time.
The face of horrid purpose,
The train of circumstance
There, the door is closed upon;
They shall no more advance.
Yet see in the uncertain sky
Above your uncertain station–
The sign she left you, passing,
Persists in affirmation.

—Ray Smith, The Sign

“…awaiting the birth of a grandson capable of understanding him.”

Cervantes—a patient gentleman who wrote a book—has been sitting in the Elysian fields for three centuries and gazing sadly around, awaiting the birth of a grandson capable of understanding him.

—José Ortega y Gasset, Meditations on Quixote

Who could it be?
Believe it or not it’s just me…

 

star-wars-party-1080
Library and Information Services Metropolitan State University, Star Wars Party (2015)

“Young John” (Painting By Arris Grace Hodge)

Source: Young John – arrisgracehodge / Saatchi Art: Young John Painting by Arris Grace Hodge

Artist: Arris Grace Hodge

Arris Grace Hodge | Saatchi Art

arrisgracehodge.wordpress.com

 

Young John Painting by Arris Grace Hodge

Arris Grace Hodge, “Young John” (Oil on Canvas, 18 H x 24 W x 2 in)

Keep your feet on the ground and keep reaching for the stars

Tom Hubbard, At the Tyler Davidson Fountain, in Fountain Square Downtown Cincinnati’s Popular Public Plaza, a Young Man Listens to the Radio with One Ear, Play of the Water with the Other (August, 1973)
 

American Top 40 Theme Music

Just when you think you got a good thing it seems to slip away

cf. Georges Seurat: A Sunday on La Grande Jatte — 1884 (detail) (1884/86),
Study for “A Sunday on La Grande Jatte” (1884)
and Gustave Caillebotte: Paris Street; Rainy Day, 1877 (detail) (1877)

As Kingfishers Catch Fire

A. L. Hitchin, “The Little Artist” (ca. 1919) and G. W. Harting, “Sketching” (ca. 1917)

As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame;
As tumbled over rim in roundy wells
Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell’s
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves — goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying What I do is me: for that I came.

–Gerard Manley Hopkins, As Kingfishers Catch Fire (excerpt)

Time heals the wounds that no one can see

But if your heart,
Your heart has been broken
And you don’t wear it on your sleeve
No one can tell,
Your hell goes unspoken
But there’s one thing you must believe…

 

r-e-scaife-edit-1080

Untitled photograph by R. E. Scaife (ca. 1919)

“His life was gentle, and the elements so mix’d in him…”

Börje Gallén, Fisherman and boy in Smygehuk (detail) (1954)

His life was gentle, and the elements
So mix’d in him that Nature might stand up
And say to all the world “This was a man!”

—Shakespeare, Julius Caesar

“In the midway of this our mortal life, I found me in a gloomy wood…”

In the midway of this our mortal life,
I found me in a gloomy wood, astray
Gone from the path direct…

— Dante Alighieri, Inferno


David Falconer, from the DOCUMERICA collection (1973)

Aspens

Imagine a young man, alone, without anyone.
The moment a few raindrops streaked his glass
he began to scribble.
He lived in a tenement with mice for company.
I loved his bravery.

Someone else a few doors down
played Segovia records all day.
He never left his room, and no one could blame him.
At night he could hear the other’s
typewriter going, and feel comforted.

Literature and music.
Everyone dreaming of Spanish horsemen
and courtyards.
Processions. Ceremony, and
resplendence.

Aspen trees.
Days of rain and high water.
Leaves hammered into the ground finally.
In my heart, this plot of earth
that the storm lights.

–Raymond Carver, “Aspens” from All of Us: Collected Poems (Alfred A. Knopf)
 

Northeastern University Course Catalog 1982-83 Detail Large
Northeastern University Course Catalog (1982-83)

“Listen, you can say anything you want now. Here is the instrument.”

Music—the world that might be,
and yet the world as it is. The heart
comes out of hiding, saying to us:
“Listen, you can say anything you want now.
Here is the instrument.”

–Robert Winner, The Instrument (excerpt) from The Sanity of Earth and Grass (Tilbury House)

 
Daughter of FSA (Farm Security Administration) rehabilitation borrower listening to phonograph Edit Large

John Vachon, Daughter of FSA rehabilitation borrower listening to phonograph (detail) (1940)

“…Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my soul.”

Thematic Apperception Test Image

A Noiseless patient spider,
I mark’d where on a little promontory it stood isolated,
Mark’d how to explore the vacant vast surrounding,
It launch’d forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself,
Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them.

And you O my soul where you stand,
Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space,
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to
connect them,
Till the bridge you will need be form’d, till the ductile anchor
hold,
Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my soul.

—Walt Whitman, A Noiseless Patient Spider

“Yet still I persevere, and find them where I may…”

Tom Hubbard, Strolling Among Pigeons at Fountain Square (1973)

He with a smile did then his words repeat;
And said that, gathering leeches, far and wide
He travelled; stirring thus about his feet
The waters of the pools where they abide.
“Once I could meet with them on every side;
But they have dwindled long by slow decay;
Yet still I persevere, and find them where I may…”

And soon with this he other matter blended,
Cheerfully uttered, with demeanour kind,
But stately in the main; and, when he ended,
I could have laughed myself to scorn to find
In that decrepit Man so firm a mind.
“God,” said I, “be my help and stay secure;
I’ll think of the Leech-gatherer on the lonely moor!”

—William Wordsworth, Resolution and Independence

Three days in the rain and I ain’t had no sleep
But I won’t break down now, I got a promise to keep
Showing my determination…

“I wonder if you ever read Dickens’ Christmas books?…”

Museum of Hartlepool, A Helping Hand

“I wonder if you ever read Dickens’ Christmas books?…I have only read two of them yet, and feel so good after them and would do anything, yes and shall do everything, to make it a little better for people. I wish I could lose no time; I want to go out and comfort some one…”

—Letter from Robert Louis Stevenson to Mrs. Sitwell (September, 1874)