Seeking the Sublime in the Everyday

 Good Morning!  I am writing this post on Wednesday because I know that this Thursday, my usual day for writing my blog, I will be otherwise engaged. I hope you had a lovely day with friends and family, and found ample reason to give thanks.  And now the rush is on.  I remember when the days between Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve stretched on forever and now they fly by.  That reminds me of a line from that song from Gigi; Maurice Chevalier sings, "Am I getting older?"  And Hermione Gingold responds, "Oh, no, not you!" I'm probably dating myself just by mentioning that movie. Last month when we celebrated the life of our friend, Betty Van Zandt, I told this story to her many loving friends and  family. We were at a party when Betty said to my husband, "Arthur, do you know of an escort service in San Francisco?" Arthur replied, "Uh, Betty...?  What's going on?" She explained, "my daughter, Karen, is getting married in San Francisco an

  I'm sad to report that this Sunday, November 19, is the last day to view "The Seed," on view in the Great Hall Gallery at First Presbyterian Church, 12 West 12th Street at Fifth Avenue in New York City. The inspiration comes from a quote from Albert Camus; “One’s work is nothing but the long journey through life to recover, through the detours of art, the one or two great and simple images that first gained access to one’s heart .” I first heard that quote in a speech the great Robert Beverly Hale gave at an Art Students League dinner in __1975. It has stayed with me since then, inspiring me to reflect on the roots of my inspiration, and helping to clarify my thoughts about my work. Turns out I'm not the only one it resonated with. My friend Fran Beallor and I talked about it now and then as we pursued our separate practices in isolation. Under the pandemic we found new ways to reach out, learning various ways of communicating and finally we said, "Let's d

  I greeted the end of Daylight Savings Time this year with joy because as the days grew shorter, my first  morning walk with Russell was happening in the dark. I don't mind taking the bedtime walk in the dark  under the street lights because Russell has befriended all the doormen on the block and it's a social event,  and I don't mind the  sun going down early in the evening--it feels like a signal to settle in and get cozy.  When you're house-breaking a puppy you can't dawdle about getting out first thing and all the  walking means lots of exercise and fresh air but before it's even light out? C'mon.  But over the last couple of days as the sun  rose in the east at 6:30 instead of 7:30, it shone on the  buildings across the  river and made them glow like Xanadu !   I started to sing (to myself, of course) "Shall We Gather at the River" but then it came to me-- "Is it Granada I see or only Asbury Park?" Actually, it's Hoboken, ne

 What were you for Hallowe'en?  Molly was an angel... Theo eliminated the middle man--he was a Trick or Treat Bag. Sunny was going to be a pirate--at about noon she liked the eye patch, the spy glass and the sword;  by 5 she'd had it with the whole business, refused to put on her costume and blew off trick-or-treating. Sam wasn't sorry; he said to me, "Who ever thought it was a good idea to fill a kid full of sugar at bedtime?"  Funny, Sam, I remember when you thought that was a great idea. It's been a spooky week in the West Village with Hallowe'en AND a full moon. And look who visited Abingdon Square Park! Believe me, I am not walking there alone at night--it's way too scary. What's scary to you? What's the scariest movie you ever saw? My scariest movie is one I didn't even see.  When I was around 8 my friend Sally Hubbard's mother saw Diabolique, where this French woman murders her husband but he keeps reappearing.  Mrs. Hubbard tol