Andrew Atroshenko What a Wonderful Life paintingAndrew Atroshenko Just for Love paintingEdward Hopper Sunday painting
guardian slave, a bar of gold, my witty uncle, and my girlish aunt: I have yet to know them well, but they and my father and my mother are all fond of each other, and I like them, and I know that they like me.
I hear the easy chiming of their talk and their laughter.
But before long now they too will leave and the house will become almost silent and before long the darkness, for all its leniency, will take my father and my mother and will bring them, even as I have been brought, to bed and to sleep.
You come to us once each day and never a day rises into brightness but you stand behind it; you are upon us, you overwhelm us, all of each night. It is you who release from work, who bring parted families and friends together, and people for a little while are calm and free, and all at ease together; but before long, before long, all
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Claude Monet Water Lilies painting
Claude Monet Water Lilies paintingVincent van Gogh Poppies 1886 paintingHenri Matisse Goldfish painting
The woman looked at him; after a moment the man, without moving his eyes, nodded.
“Didn’t hear yer holler.”
After a moment the man said, “I hollered.”
The ferryman put out his lantern. He turned to Jay. “Twarn’t rightly a dark crossing, mister. I can’t charge ye but the daytime toll.”
“All right,” Jay said, giving him fifteen cents. “And much obliged to you.” He put out his headlights and stooped to crank the car.
“Hold awn, bud,” the wagoner called. Jay looked up; the man took two quick strides and took control of the mule’s head. The wagoner nodded.
The engine was warm, and started easily; and though with every wrench of the crank a spasm of anguish wrenched the mule, once the engine leveled out the mule stood quietly, merely trembling. Jay put it violently into low to get up the steep mud bank, giving the mule
The woman looked at him; after a moment the man, without moving his eyes, nodded.
“Didn’t hear yer holler.”
After a moment the man said, “I hollered.”
The ferryman put out his lantern. He turned to Jay. “Twarn’t rightly a dark crossing, mister. I can’t charge ye but the daytime toll.”
“All right,” Jay said, giving him fifteen cents. “And much obliged to you.” He put out his headlights and stooped to crank the car.
“Hold awn, bud,” the wagoner called. Jay looked up; the man took two quick strides and took control of the mule’s head. The wagoner nodded.
The engine was warm, and started easily; and though with every wrench of the crank a spasm of anguish wrenched the mule, once the engine leveled out the mule stood quietly, merely trembling. Jay put it violently into low to get up the steep mud bank, giving the mule
Monday, October 6, 2008
Paul Cezanne Still Life with a Skull painting
Paul Cezanne Still Life with a Skull paintingPaul Cezanne Man Smoking a Pipe paintingPaul Cezanne Jas de Bouffan the Pool painting
Cara then interposed: ‘I think my nurse told me, someone did anyway, that if the priest got there before the body was cold it was all right. That’s so, isn’t it?’ The others turned to her.
‘No, Cara, it’s not.’
‘Of course not.’
‘You’ve got it all wrong, Cara.’
‘Well, I remember when Alphonse de Grenet died, Madame de Grenet had a priest hidden outside the door - he couldn’t bear the sight of a priest - and brought him in before the body was cold; she told me herself, and they had a full Requiem for him, and I went to it.’
‘Having a Requiem doesn’t mean you go to heaven necessarily.’
‘Madame de Grenet thought it did.’
Cara then interposed: ‘I think my nurse told me, someone did anyway, that if the priest got there before the body was cold it was all right. That’s so, isn’t it?’ The others turned to her.
‘No, Cara, it’s not.’
‘Of course not.’
‘You’ve got it all wrong, Cara.’
‘Well, I remember when Alphonse de Grenet died, Madame de Grenet had a priest hidden outside the door - he couldn’t bear the sight of a priest - and brought him in before the body was cold; she told me herself, and they had a full Requiem for him, and I went to it.’
‘Having a Requiem doesn’t mean you go to heaven necessarily.’
‘Madame de Grenet thought it did.’
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Thomas Kinkade Abundant Harvest painting
Thomas Kinkade Abundant Harvest paintingThomas Kinkade A Holiday Gathering paintingJohn Collier Horace and Lydia painting
IT was my wife’s idea to hold the private view on Friday. ‘We are out to catch the critics this time, I she She was up and down from the Old Rectory several times during the month of preparation, revising the list of invitations and helping with the hanging. On the morning of the private view I telephoned to Julia and said: ‘I’m sick of the pictures already and never want to see them again, but I suppose I shall have to put in an appearance.’ said. ‘It’s high time they began to take you seriously, and they know it. This is their chance. If you open on Monday, they’ll most of them have just come up from the country, and they’ll dash off a few paragraphs before dinner - I’m only worrying about the weeklies of course. If we give them the week-end to think about it, we shall have them in an urbane Sunday-in-the-country mood. They’ll settle down after a good luncheon, tuck up their cuffs, and turn out a nice, leisurely full-length essay, which they’ll reprint later in a nice little book. Nothing less will do this time.’
IT was my wife’s idea to hold the private view on Friday. ‘We are out to catch the critics this time, I she She was up and down from the Old Rectory several times during the month of preparation, revising the list of invitations and helping with the hanging. On the morning of the private view I telephoned to Julia and said: ‘I’m sick of the pictures already and never want to see them again, but I suppose I shall have to put in an appearance.’ said. ‘It’s high time they began to take you seriously, and they know it. This is their chance. If you open on Monday, they’ll most of them have just come up from the country, and they’ll dash off a few paragraphs before dinner - I’m only worrying about the weeklies of course. If we give them the week-end to think about it, we shall have them in an urbane Sunday-in-the-country mood. They’ll settle down after a good luncheon, tuck up their cuffs, and turn out a nice, leisurely full-length essay, which they’ll reprint later in a nice little book. Nothing less will do this time.’
Robert Duval The Last Dance painting
Robert Duval The Last Dance paintingRobert Duval Song for a Gentleman paintingRobert Duval Magic Moment painting
about it.’ ‘Julia who?’
‘Mottram. I haven’t seen her for years.’
Nor had I; not, in fact, since my wedding day, not to speak to for any time, since the private view of my exhibition where the four canvases of Marchmain House, lent by Brideshead, had hung together attracting much attention. Those pictures were my last contact with the Flytes; our lives, so close for a year or two, had drawn apart. Sebastian, I knew, was still abroad; Rex and Julia, I sometimes heard said, were unhappy together.
Rex was not prospering quite as well as had been predicted; he remained on the fringe of the Government, prominent but vaguely suspect. He lived among
about it.’ ‘Julia who?’
‘Mottram. I haven’t seen her for years.’
Nor had I; not, in fact, since my wedding day, not to speak to for any time, since the private view of my exhibition where the four canvases of Marchmain House, lent by Brideshead, had hung together attracting much attention. Those pictures were my last contact with the Flytes; our lives, so close for a year or two, had drawn apart. Sebastian, I knew, was still abroad; Rex and Julia, I sometimes heard said, were unhappy together.
Rex was not prospering quite as well as had been predicted; he remained on the fringe of the Government, prominent but vaguely suspect. He lived among
Henri Rousseau The Flamingos painting
Henri Rousseau The Flamingos paintingHenri Rousseau The Equatorial Jungle paintingHenri Rousseau The Boat in the Storm painting
had her ball I was allowed down for an hour, to sit in the corner with Aunt Fanny, and she said, “In six years’ time you’ll have all this.”...I hope I’ve got a vocation.’ ‘I don’t know what that means.’
‘It means you can be a nun. If you haven’t a vocation it’s no good however much you want to be; and if you have a vocation, you can’t get away from it, however much you hate it. Bridey thinks he has a vocation and hasn’t. I used to think Sebastian had and hated it - but I don’t know now. Everything has changed so much suddenly.’ But I had no patience with this convent chatter. I had felt the brush take life in my hand that afternoon; I had had my finger in the great, succulent pie of creation. I was a man of the Renaissance that evening - of Browning’s renaissance. I, who had walked the streets of Rome in Genoa velvet and had seen the stars through Galileo’s tube, spurned the friars, with their dusty tomes and their sunken, jealous eyes and their crabbed hairsplitting speech.
had her ball I was allowed down for an hour, to sit in the corner with Aunt Fanny, and she said, “In six years’ time you’ll have all this.”...I hope I’ve got a vocation.’ ‘I don’t know what that means.’
‘It means you can be a nun. If you haven’t a vocation it’s no good however much you want to be; and if you have a vocation, you can’t get away from it, however much you hate it. Bridey thinks he has a vocation and hasn’t. I used to think Sebastian had and hated it - but I don’t know now. Everything has changed so much suddenly.’ But I had no patience with this convent chatter. I had felt the brush take life in my hand that afternoon; I had had my finger in the great, succulent pie of creation. I was a man of the Renaissance that evening - of Browning’s renaissance. I, who had walked the streets of Rome in Genoa velvet and had seen the stars through Galileo’s tube, spurned the friars, with their dusty tomes and their sunken, jealous eyes and their crabbed hairsplitting speech.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Vincent van Gogh Field with Poppies painting
Vincent van Gogh Field with Poppies paintingVincent van Gogh field of poppies paintingHenri Matisse Blue Nude II painting
they came, in a profusion which at the time seemed to promise continuity to the line which, in the tragic event, ended abruptly with them.
The family history was typical of the Catholic squires of England; from Elizabeth’s reign till Victoria’s they lived sequestered lives, among their tenantry and kinsmen, sending their sons to school abroad, often marrying there, inter-marrying, if not, with a score of families like themselves, debarred from all preferment, and learning, in those lost generations, lessons which could still be read in the lives of the last three men of the house.
Mr Samgrass’s deft editorship had assembled and arranged a curiously homogeneous little body of writing - poetry, letters, scraps of a journal, an unpublished essay or two, which all exhaled the same high-spirited, serious
they came, in a profusion which at the time seemed to promise continuity to the line which, in the tragic event, ended abruptly with them.
The family history was typical of the Catholic squires of England; from Elizabeth’s reign till Victoria’s they lived sequestered lives, among their tenantry and kinsmen, sending their sons to school abroad, often marrying there, inter-marrying, if not, with a score of families like themselves, debarred from all preferment, and learning, in those lost generations, lessons which could still be read in the lives of the last three men of the house.
Mr Samgrass’s deft editorship had assembled and arranged a curiously homogeneous little body of writing - poetry, letters, scraps of a journal, an unpublished essay or two, which all exhaled the same high-spirited, serious
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)