Surviving the Fires in California — The Good Men Project

Although I was born in New York City, I’ve lived in California all my life. I grew up in the San Fernando Valley at a time when California seemed like an ideal place to be with orange groves as far as the eye could see, crystal clear air, and safe communities. But times have changed…

via Surviving the Fires in California — The Good Men Project

Gentileschi, Judith Slaying Holofernes

by Dr. Esperança Camara .

The story of Judith

Artemisia Gentileschi, Judith and Holofernes, 1620-21, oil on canvas, 162.5 x 199 cm (Uffizi Gallery, Florence)
Artemisia Gentileschi, Judith and Holofernes, 1620-21, oil on canvas, 162.5 x 199 cm (Uffizi Gallery, Florence)
Rivulets of blood run down the white sheets, as Judith, a pious young widow from the Jewish city of Bethulia, beheads Holofernes, general of the Assyrian army that had besieged her city. Moved by the plight of her people and filled with trust in God, Judith took matters into her own hands. She coiffed her hair, donned her finest garments and entered the enemy camp under the pretense of bringing Holofernes information that would ensure his victory. Struck by her beauty, he invited her to dine, planning later to seduce her. As the biblical text recounts, “Holofernes was so enchanted with her that he drank far more wine than he had drunk on any other day in his life” (Judith 12:20). Judith saw her opportunity; with a prayer on her lips and a sword in her hand, she saved her people from destruction.
The story of Judith and Holofernes is recounted in the Book of Judith, a 2nd century text deemed apocryphal by the Jewish and Protestant traditions, but included in Catholic editions of the Bible. Like the story of David and Goliath, it was a popular subject of art in the Renaissance and Baroque periods.

Artemisia, Caravaggio, and a composition perfected

This particular painting, executed by Artemisia Gentileschi in Florence c. 1620 and now in the Uffizi, is one of the bloodiest and most vivid depictions of the scene, surpassing the version by Caravaggio, arch-realist of Baroque Rome, in its immediacy and shocking realism. Artemisia was certainly familiar with Caravaggio’s painting of the subject; her father Orazio, who was responsible for her artistic training, was Caravaggio’s friend and artistic follower. Caravaggio’s painting inspired, and perhaps even challenged, the young Artemisia.
A comparison between the two reveals not only her debt to the older artist, but also a series of pointed modifications that heighten the intensity of the physical struggle, the quantity of blood spilled, and the physical and psychological strength of Judith and her maidservant, Abra. In Artemisia’s painting (below, right) the bloody sheets are in the immediate foreground, close to the viewer’s space. Holofernes’s muscular body projects dynamically into the depicted space as bold areas of light and dark draw attention to his powerful limbs.

Left: Caravaggio, Judith beheading Holofernes, 1598-99, oil on canvas, 145 x 195 cm (Palazzo Barberini, Rome); and right: Artemisia Gentileschi, Judith and Holofernes, 1620-21, oil on canvas, 162.5 x 199 cm (Uffizi Gallery, Florence)
Left: Caravaggio, Judith beheading Holofernes, 1598-99, oil on canvas, 145 x 195 cm (Palazzo Barberini, Rome); and right: Artemisia Gentileschi, Judith and Holoferne s, 1620-21, oil on canvas, 162.5 x 199 cm (Uffizi Gallery, Florence)https://www.khanacademy.org/humanities/monarchy-enlightenment/baroque-art1/baroque-italy/a/gentileschi-judith-slaying-holofernes

(Timeline)

  • Alive. _____________________

and: sentient.

{1} dying; steering committee

{2} drying out; stainlesscrop_circles.jpg ly __ __that one look.

{3} {saving} and steel toe boot.  – bas in dirt. Reut a Caskat ; it is cheaper.                              Than words and actions.                                               love-and-fake-antiques-19864           THANKS.

Know Notes Aloud

 

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Maybe or not
nothing, keyed
but a breath taken
anchored to create
seatbelts denied
smoked grass, poured gas
rear view backseat driven ride

base guitar, black bass
four strings uncooked and cast
re-keyed, the tiger swam at last
by darned maps, medicine token chips
drumsticks feather fields,
wild deer ticks
running lights and a pedal
steel guitar lick

beautiful chess boards fell
soon pieces meet neatly with love
playing muttered muddy water songs
a music sees the ebony cartel
dances become plays, plays become dances
with the turning of an allen wrench

blues crowds faded, creeks begin croaking
fenced, the dazed and hoaxed
despair dated, the fretboard floating,
blanched, the neck bowed, straightened on rosewood, coaxed
tuning proclaims know notes aloud

wolves blinked, eyes break opened
bluer than Utah’s salt lake
a world understood, stood understood, vinyl swill,
sweat pouring, pouring piano rained
water pelting like bullets kill
tickled ivory keys looking arranged
pictures hang, stretched on buffalo skin
promised like lines in pools
a dive so deep, one polish kiss

pride changed the rules
the sun re-aligned, flared and poached
winning ways, cymbols snare, united states lease
high hats, and luminous dates, a golden roach
guns lifted, marching marshell, swollen peace
a market place, large fruit, top of mantel
money tucked in the wallet of time, nothing urned
bongos banged, fired by candles, the war burned
c clef that says know notes aloud

a flight ticketed, flirting contained,
a baby’s handprint due,a tailored garden, a reading road
calender’s re-printed, a press word key ,labor day cue
weekend goodbyes, memories sent abroad susustained
a foreclosed site, autumn maple ray, paved, slowed
grass marquee played, the bees harbored, john deer shoed
from a to z,uncharted paper bundled, ride
laminated, cut, pasted, then pathed
highway ridden, Kentucky skinned, Louisianna and lathed

one new fishing rod, pinned, our fate, basted word press
our black grandmother’s address,
Gerry Mandered, us again split in two
walking in silver, slandered, shoes
a crooked clap, again at the cape
a four track, trading tape
a clapping preamble
a horn’s blow, geese honk
the majority whip
the tambourine trembles
are unheard, redress
we are the singers
sounding
the siren
know notes aloud

Poem by Heather Whitley Gibson

Pinned Between

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She walked that kaleidoscope scene
pinned between that flat
cooled glass, chewed edges dated,
colored raised and faded.
Without a trace the scar
was the perfect mark.
The unbroken embrace,
wearing an odd dress.

Pairs of sorrowed shoes,
tied necklaces.
The letters lettered gold,
raised and braised.
There were wars to retrace,
prayer to be spoken.
Hands to raise, collar bones broken,
cold coals turned over.

Open grace, spines of books,
the scar, still the unbroken embrace.

She saw the forgiving, the setting,
a rock sliced.
For a ring sliced in guillotine time
harnessed like chalk words.
Slapped together, erased,
shifted the sugar.
Then flour floating down
the ashed snow.

A rolling stone gown reminisce,
kaleidoscope address.
The fading scar, the bird’s recall
a Siamese cat’s fall.
The wired coo coo clock,
outside the held phone call.
One lonely sigh, a forgiven stay,
a tomorrow sing along.

Will-owing the age of sight.
Younger roots bearing to the right.

A rolling stone gown reminisce,
kaleidoscope address.
The fading scar, the bird’s recall
a Siamese cat’s fall.
The wired coo coo clock,
outside the held phone call.
One lonely sigh, a forgiven stay,
a tomorrow sing along.

Woven deed made, a baked chicken.
Tobacco leaves, the tucked skin

Poem By Heather Whitley Gibson