The Great Escape

Last Wednesday, I took advantage of a day off and wandered through some colorful little communities on my way to Princeton. Although I thought it would be a day away from turning pages, I was wrong...and happily so. I guess it's just who I am one way or another.

Have you been to Poy Sippi? The first thought that popped upon seeing the modest clapboard houses, perfectly tailored old fashioned white churches - with honest-to-goodness Norman Rockwell steeples! - was "I have found Lake Woebegone!" Remember, it was Wednesday, and the good peopleof Poy Sippi were working, so things were quiet. None of the stores I visited were air conditioned, and the owners, each and every one, were found in a corner, in a rocking chair, fanning themselves with a paper plate. Each was anxious to chat, and equally as anxious to lower prices to meet my needs. Nice folks.

Finally I made it to "Georgie's", in Princeton. the picture at the top is from the main showroom. Owner, Robyn Mockus, has a warm collection of home gods, featuring the fanciful work of her artist/writer sister, Tracy Porter. Porter designs furniture, accessories, and clothing. She is frequently on Oprah's favorites list...and she is from Wisconsin...about an hour and half away from Manitowoc.

I also checked out Green Lake, about three miles from Princeton. Green Lake hosts writing conferences throughout the year. A little research when I got home told me that I missed a whopper of an opportunity; but now I have a reason to return. Hidden somewhere on highway K in Markesan, which is in Green Lake county, is Happy Tales Bookshop owned by Roy and Lenore Dickmann. Their used bookstore was features some years ago on "Sunday Morning". The Dickmanns love books; they estimate having over 1 million in barns and other buildings on their farm property. She arranges them on tables in a very unorthodox categories... books everyone should read...books that have been banned....books to read once and then give away...books with blue covers! I can't wait to get back there. Apparently, Roy and Lenore aren't too anxious to part with their collection, since they are only open on Saturdays!

***Last week I had one of those "you never know..." moments. A former student stopped in with here infant daughter to thank me for being her teacher. That was humbling, and just the gentle reminder I needed that we never know how our words and actions will affect others.

Claire is one of those perpetually happy people, the kind of person others envy. Claire should bottle whatever that magic is...that's what I often thought. A few years ago, I had the privilege of meeting Jen, who turned up to audition for Heart-A-Rama. Jen has the same contagious spirit as Claire, and guess what? Their mom's are sisters!

***If you're looking for a rental flick that is a bit out of the ordinary, try "Paperclips." This documentary shows how several groups of junior high students worked in a small town, to teach their homogeneous community about diversity. They set out to collect six million paperclips, one for each person who was murdered during the holocaust. In the process, they met concentration camp survivors, received letters from relatives of those who died, and created a permanent memorial. Amazing and emotional. A two or three tissue movie.

"Grizzly Man"....another documentary. Timothy Treadwell's passion took him to the Alaskan wilderness where he lived among bears off and on for over ten years. He filmed himself interacting with the bears, and commenting on society's lack of compassion and understanding of these animals. As his involvement with the bears progressed, his video essays turned to rants, and he appeared to be losing touch with reality. I don't know what to make of him, or of his friends who surely saw the downward spiral. Fascinating and terrifying film.

Heart-a-Rama 2011 kicks off tonight with a directors' meeting. Hopefully, we'll come up with a theme tonight and can start writing!

Thanks for stopping by!

Still Thinking About Artemisia

Our book group discussed The Passion of Artemisia on Friday night, and with one exception, we all enjoyed the book. The more we talked, the more I wondered why I had never heard of Artemisia Gentileschi before discovering this book. She was a contemporary of Caravaggio, and appeared to have known him personally. Art history classes cover Caravaggio Titian, and Michelangelo ad nauseum, but women artists are seldom celebrated. Heck, the first female artist I recall being referenced in a Humanities class was Frida Kahlo, and even that included a comment about her uni-brow!

I went to the library to get a book of works by Gentileschi but came up with next to nothing...just a few mentions of her in some books on "influential" women artists. Not the big, coffee table books I found on other artists. Her suffering - her passion - is evident in her character's faces. Artemisia was tortured because she accused a fellow artist of rape. When she would not admit the act was consentual, her fingers were laced with rope which was incrementally tightened until the flesh between her fingers cracked and bled. She was subject to a life of ridicule and scorn, not the least of which was her father's continued partnership with her rapist.

I know I have to move on, but I am hoping that perhaps one or two of you will pick up this book and be as moved as I was. The painting at the top is one her many renditions of Judith Slaying Holofernes.

What am I reading? Kitchen Confidential by Anthony Bourdain, host of the Travel Channel's "No Reservations." Each week, Bourdain takes us travelling - sometimes to places quite exotic, other times, to rather mundane locations. But no matter where he goes, he fills his hour with history and color. And, there is always the ceremonial tasting of a local gastronomic delight. Now, that could mean something quite posh and unpronounceable to plebeians like me, or it could be something most of us would never even consider food. In "Kitchen," Bourdain writes with crude honestly about what he has experienced as a career chef . Much of what he shares isn't pretty, or appetizing, but the culinary warnings are softened by his acerbic wit.

Did you all get to AcousticFest on Saturday?

John the Revelator and his Irish Friends

My experiment has ended. I have determined that I cannot go back and read the types of books that filled my bookshelves in high school, college and early 20's. There's something sad about that finding, though. Perhaps I was just so burnt from dissecting classics, that Victoria Holt and her many pseudonyms became a source of solace. No symbols to interpret. Some obvious foreshadowing so I didn't have to worry too much about the ultimate fate of the heroine, and of course, the proper colored horse to differentiate the good from the bad...and no papers to write extolling the virtues (or lack of)! They were books and days of total escape. I guess any time you leave something behind, there is sadness...even if it is a pile of questionably valuable books.

So, now, back to reading the good stuff! An ARC of John the Revelator made it to the top of the pile. Honestly, I decided to read it for two reason. First, it is by an Irish author. I enjoy those working class characters with dirt under their nails, holes in the jeans, and a lilting tune for every occasion. Reason #2...the author's picture. He just looks like a writer should. Dark. Brooding.

This book grabbed me from page one, and pulled me screaming, laughing, and shaking my head in empathy, wonder, shock, and annoyance to the very end. It's a coming of age story, but John is no rich, whiny Holden Caulfield. Nope. This kid has a terrifying life beginning with a zealot, chain-smoking mother and a nosy neighbor who looks for any opportunity to instruct John and his mother on the eventual repercussions of their evil ways. John, himself, has a fascination with intestinal parasites, a symbol that did not slip past me.

Enter Jamie Corboy, a worldly bloke dedicated to Rimbaud's poetry, and John's life changes dramatically. I haven't decided if the changes were for the better, but he did find his spirit in the process.

Murphy's clean, no frills style reminded me of J.P. Donleavy, another Irish writer - sort of. Donleavy was born to Irish immigrants in New York, sharing his April 23rd birth date with William Shakespeare and Shirley Temple. What a combo. He now lives in Ireland, raising chickens. When I was in college, a friend serving in VietNam wrote, with great enthusiasm, saying he had finally read a book and was sure I would like it. It was Donleavy's The Beastly Beatitudes of Balthazar B. - quite a daunting read for someone who claimed to have maneuvered through school without cracking a single novel. But, he was right - that I would enjoy it, that is. Like "John" it has shades of The Catcher in the Rye, but with deeper characters who have more legit issues than Holden. Are you getting the feeling here that I have little sympathy for American lit's most revered anti-hero?

Balthazar, a fancy pants French boy, is sent off to a British boarding school, where he meets Beefy. The name says it all, doesn't it? Beefy reminds me of Larry Mondello with a bit of Ozzy thrown in to add some danger. He knows his way around, and amuses himself by playing the mentor to his porcelain French friend. Before the novel ends, Balthazar has learned far too much, I laughed way too loudly. Donleavy is a naughty writer, whose first attempts at publishing were rejected. He was labeled a "risky" author. The lusty "Beatitudes" brilliantly lives up to that standard.

I guess that's the closest I'll get to Irish writers...those two lads, and Maeve Binchy. James Joyce is just too cerebral for me, and except for a few stories in The Dubliners, I can't understand a darn work he writes. I will leave him and Faulkner to the Mensa members among you.

My book group is reading The Passion of Artemesia by Susan Vreeland. Artemesia, a post-Renaissance artist, was sold out by her father, raped by her tutor, and betrayed by her husband. Her talent aroused jealously among the leading male artists, vying for commissions throughout Florence. Her suffering spills onto her canvases in the faces of her women characters. There's a Golden Globe nominated film about about this artist called "Artemisia." French subtitles.

Vreeland sweeps me away with her lush prose. Her vivid descriptions of the landscape, the sights, the smells, the textures of everyday life make be think she lived side by side with Artemesia. He knowledge and love of the masters is evident as she references them throughout - both the major and the minor artists, with minute, carefully painted verbal portraits of their works. At times she get heavy handed with the metaphors, bogging down the flow, and surly not needed with a prose style as lyrical as hers.

The heart, mind and soul of the artist become the themes driving the plot of this book, and, let me tell you, with each page turn, I have marveled at and envied both the inner and outer worlds of the artist. How I would love to have a single talent, no matter how meagre. Oh well, if I can't write, I will read. If I can't sing, I will listen, and if I can't paint, I will look. That's still a pretty good deal, right?

The past week, I caught up on some movie watching. Catch "The Duchess" if you can. Beware - I enjoy costume dramas, so if you're into contemporary pieces, skip this one. Kira Knightly is awesome.

I also saw a documentary called "Carnies." This was powerful stuff. The filmmaker followed four carnival workers through a year of set ups and tear downs. The nomadic life was painfully unappealing to me, but as individual stories unfolded, I saw how this life of unexpected turns, and mix and match faces, became not only a constant source of excitement, but also - in a way I could never fully understand or appreciate - a stability. On one level. it's not so different from the theatre work we do around here. We periodically pull together a group of clowns, set up our tent, do a couple tricks, and the move on. It's a nice life. What we do for fun, the carnies do for real. I hope the carnies are as happy as they say they are.

We've got "Rumplestiltskin" coming up in August at UW-Manitowoc. I'll keep you posted.

Thanks for stopping by.

July 5,2010

Close on Monday! Check back next week!

I have finally settled in with a book worth reading...more next week.