Bio for the WMS

 I have been voted in as a new board member for the William Morris Society in the United States, and my responsibilities will truly start up in about February. I'm humbled and surprised that I would be invited to join the board, especially since I don't consider myself any type of expert in William Morris at all. But I am a fan of his work, so if that is the only true marker for membership (or board participation), then I'm glad to belong. The people I have met have been very warm and welcoming, and I hope this is a place where I can learn and make contributions to a community.

As an incoming board member, I was asked to write a bio for the upcoming newsletter. This is what I wrote:

While I’m certain that I will never achieve as much as William Morris completed during his lifetime, I feel a kinship with him in that we both abhor “a disease called idleness” that is mentioned in News from Nowhere. I am a person who likes to be busy. Much of my time is spent teaching art history courses at Seattle University or engaged elsewhere in the community. In the pre-pandemic days, I sang in the chorale of the Seattle Symphony and I volunteered as the Permanent Collection Training Chair for docents at the Seattle Art Museum. I look forward to being able to fully participate in those activities again. Lately, in these quieter moments at home, I find meaningful work in writing projects, helping my daughter decorate her dollhouse, stitching up rips in doll clothes, and teaching my son how to play the piano. On the sunnier days in Seattle, I spend time gardening in my flower bed and studying the birds that fly into my yard. The more I learn about William Morris, I feel like he would appreciate and understand the ways that I choose to spend my time.

Due to my mother’s niche interest in interior design, I grew up in a house in which every room was decorated with wallpaper that evoked popular styles of the 18th and 19th centuries. When I was in college, my mother introduced me to the Pre-Raphaelites, specifically William Holman Hunt. My curiosity was piqued, and I spent some time studying the Pre-Raphaelites, their broader circle, and Victorian art as part of my undergraduate studies in art history. I have continued to do so since that point, as a way to feel connected with my mom after she passed away. But, like William Morris, I have focused my attention and energy on several areas of art and world history. My graduate work in art history focused on colonialism and representations of art that involved political statements against African slavery and racism.

In recent years, my interest in the paintings of Kehinde Wiley have connected my interests in politics, race, and Victorian art. As a contemporary painter, Wiley creates monumental portraits of Black figures who are juxtaposed against decorative backgrounds that often are inspired by the Morrisian designs. These paintings are intended to raise awareness of the inequality and inequity that Black people have experienced; Wiley chooses portraiture as a starting point since historically Black people have not been celebrated as primary figures in Western portraits. I am drawn to Wiley’s paintings because he adopts European compositions and expensive Arts & Crafts wallpaper designs for his paintings, which are relatable to me given my own background and studies. My hope is that these relatable elements also help me, as a White woman, to better understand Wiley’s statements about what the Black experience is like.

It is through my writings on Kehinde Wiley that I became familiar with the William Morris Society in the United States back in 2018. And since becoming associated with this group, I feel like this is a place where I am meant to be! I’m currently interested in exploring William Morris’s artistic production and political ideologies, as well as those of May Morris, within the 19th-century framework of class, race, and the suffrage movement.

"Reflections" Today and Reflections on Today

I haven't pulled up this blog for a long time. The past few months have been a whirlwind, and they aren't slowing down! I can see from my last post that I never got a chance to finish writing about my trip to Brazil or processing my thoughts from my trip. I'm sure I will revisit my photos, especially when I teach my class on Brazilian art again. I remember being so surprised at the large scale for some of the silver objects in the Museu da Arte Sacra. These were objects I had taught about for several quarters but didn't know the scale since they weren't included in my textbook.

But that's not why I sat down to write for a minute. Today has been so busy: I gave a final in one class this morning, finished grading finals and submitting grades for another class, and hosted the Reflections art celebration at Lucy's school this evening. J is out of town too, so there was more juggling that needed to happen with caring for Violet, school dropoff/pickup, and food prep. And in the midst of it all, I was able to squeeze in an hour to video chat with my family today, on the tenth anniversary of my mom's passing. But with so much going on today, I haven't had a chance to decompress or reflect on the significance of this anniversary until now. So I'm writing out my thoughts to help embrace and reflect on the melancholy I feel.

Today I didn't always feel like the best mom. I wasn't terrible, but I did feel some stress and frustration with Lucy as I was trying to prep for this Reflections celebration. They weren't big things, but I got exasperated when she claimed she needed to go to the bathroom just one minute after driving away from our house, and then again expressing frustration at the two separate meltdowns she had right as we were trying to leave the door to set up the event. And my frustration made her cry even more. (At least in the moment I paused enough to notice the irony of how I wasn't feeling like a great mother, on a day when I'm inclined to think loving and grateful thoughts about my own mother. I tried to backtrack and make some loving comments to Lucy to compensate.)

How often did my mom get exasperated with her kids? How often was she frustrated by last-minute holdups or curve balls that threw off her plans? Did we annoy her at times? I remember her expressing frustration and raising her voice in order to catch our attention, but those don't really stand out to me as a big part of my childhood. And as I reflect on my childhood as a parent myself, I think my mom took a lot of the chaos of parenting in stride and didn't let small scheduling things bother her. I could be wrong, but that's how I perceived things as a kid. I can only hope that my kids will think of me in a forgiving light.

One of the other things that I have thought about tonight is sacrifice. My mom sacrificed a lot for her kids, and personal sacrifice was important to her in a religious and moral sense. I think that this is one way that I can feel connected to my mom in some ways, because I think that sacrifice is a way to build character and encourage you to think outside of yourself. Although I need to think more about the things that I do sacrifice (like my time, which is utterly precious to me) and the reasons why I make certain sacrifices. Even with this Reflections celebration today, I think that I sacrificed my limited free time to do it partially for Lucy (since she likes art), but moreover because I wanted to help contribute something to the community and support the arts. And I'm wondering if this is the right kind of sacrifice that I should be making (since it seems like less of a sacrifice if it is something I want to do), or if I should put my energy toward other things that might be more noble or character-building?

I am glad, though, that Lucy was pleased about getting her ribbon and participating in the both the contest and the ceremony tonight. She likes to feel like she is involved in the comings-and-goings of her school community. So maybe I can continue to think about my (continued?) involvement with this annual school event as something for her, if this ends up being important and very meaningful for her.

When looking at this picture earlier tonight, I thought about how my mom would have loved to meet this cute little granddaughter of hers. She would love Lucy's creativity and imaginative mind. She would admire Sam's maturity and continually-cheerful disposition. I wish they could have gotten to know her.

The "Mental Load"

My dearest friend Kelly just shared this article with me, which discusses gender roles and the "mental load" that women carry in relation to household and daily tasks. I do think that this article makes some broad generalizations about society's role in shaping gender and personality characteristics for each gender, but it raises some important points to consider. I feel very lucky to have married a helpful and proactive husband, but I think that both of us would agree that I still bear the majority of "mental load" necessary for running our household. This is partially due to circumstance (since I am at home more than J), but also because of my personality. J describes me as "fastidious" and I think I've become more fastidious since becoming a mother. I like to feel in control of my environment, which encourages me to have a heightened awareness of my surroundings and the tasks that need to be done. I also prefer to do smaller tasks on a regular basis, instead of having to focus on a pileup of tasks all at the same time. This is one way that J and I are different: he doesn't mind doing something at the last minute or waiting until a need is immediate. I also have a lower tolerance for clutter and dirt than J, so chores fill my "mental load" checklist on a more regular basis than they do for J.

That being said, I'm so glad that J knows how to help around the house and assume responsibilities without direction. Even though he isn't as bothered by clutter, he knows that it bothers me so he is  more sensitive to clutter on my behalf. I appreciate that he is a conscientious husband. And I want to make sure that I raise Sam in a way that naturally encourages him to avoid gender stereotypes and be prepared to assume the "mental load" for his adult life. And, if he chooses to share his life with someone or have a family, I want him to be prepared to equally share that "mental load" with another. So this article is prompting me to think about the way that Sam completes his chores. I typically assign him to a particular task, but I think I'm going to have him try to look around the house and determine where there is a genuine need for a chore to be performed.

My mom definitely was a person who assumed the "mental load" for our family. I think that this was part of her personality: she liked to assume control so that things would happen in the way that she wanted them to. I think a good portion of her "mental load" involved thinking about things that related to the health and physical well-being of herself and her family (particularly regarding food, cleaning products, or clothing with fabrics that didn't irritate her skin). My mom was busy during of her waking moments. I enjoyed seeing this picture that V showed me earlier this month, because it is a rare image of my mom sleeping (see below). I think I'm probably just a little bit younger than Sam in this photo. This picture is also appropriate, too, because my mom is sleeping on a brown silky pillowcase so that her skin wouldn't touch the cotton pillowcase.

Sometimes I wish I could ask my mom more about this topic of the "mental load" and gender roles now that I'm an adult: I wonder if she felt overwhelmed with the mental load or if she simply could prioritize and took the "mental load" all in stride. I also wish I could ask her what she why she opted for a more traditional division of gender roles when it came to household responsibilities. I have some good guesses as to what she would say, but I wonder if she would give me a more nuanced explanation to me, since I am now an adult with my own household.

I do know, though, that I could have been more aware of things that needed to be done around the house when I was growing up. I remember that I would spend time cleaning my room and organizing my own things (because that was an environment that I could easily control), but I typically would leave my dishes out and not put things away in the kitchen. And there were other small things that I wouldn't assume responsibility for, like replacing empty toilet paper rolls with a fresh roll. When I was growing up, it was common practice for everyone grab a new roll when necessary and simply leave it sitting upright on the back of the toilet (while usually just leaving the empty cardboard roll still in the hanger). When I was a newlywed, I remember J specifically had to ask me to start replacing the toilet paper by hanging the roll on the holder, and I was surprised to realize that I had acquired this quirk! Before that moment, it genuinely never crossed my mind that it was strange to leave the roll out until J pointed it out. It will be interesting to see what quirks (and, hopefully, good habits) Sam and Lucy develop as a product of their upbringing.

"CHA!" movie pics

When I was in Utah a few weeks ago, we sat down as a family and watched some old home movies. We happened to come across one that I made probably in 1998, with my high-school friends Julie and Heidi. The movie is probably about 20 minutes long. We named the movie "CHA!" after the Vancome Lady on MAD TV (who would say, "Tcha, you know what, uh-uh!").

The premise of the movie is that two unpopular, nerdy girls (who play "Hi Ho Cherry-O" for fun) walk into a magical closet and emerge as beautiful and popular girls. Julie and I played these girls.  

As soon as Julie emerged from the closet, a boy called her on the phone (to emphasize her popularity and desirability!). (Actually, it's funny because every time a character becomes popular, the phone rings and a boy is calling. This was funny to watch, because the boys who are on the line are always the names of the boys that we actually liked at the time.)

My line: "I need to go into the closet too. I want to be popular like Julie." 

As soon as we both become popular, Julie and I did a Michael Jackson dance (that Julie choreographed!) to "The Way You Make Me Feel"

After we became popular, Julie and I decided to throw a party. However, our nerdy friends Tootsie and Flootsie (played by my sister V and her friend Patricia) tried to crash our party and we had to get rid of them.  

After we got rid of the party, our popular friends (also played by V and Patricia) came over. 

Heidi played a mystical goddess who appeared to me and Julie. This is where the "Cha..." line to comes into the film. Heidi reprimands the popular girls for their mean behavior toward their nerdy friends. 

Julie and I resolve to be nice to the unpopular girls... 

...including Heidi, who came skipping down the road toward us. 

Heidi asks if we want to do some coloring in her coloring book (a nerdy activity!)... 

Julie and I decide to be kind to Heidi and stay friends with her. We pull her out of a tree (she is saying "Where's Heidi?" like the character Arnie in What's Eating Gilbert Grape) and decide to invite her to visit the magical closet.

And we all have become beautiful and popular, thanks to the CHA! closet. We end the movie by saying, "And we owe it all to CHA!"

It was fun to watch this movie so many years later, especially since I don't get to see Heidi and Julie very often. My family got a kick out of it, and we also noticed that a lot of my mom's clothes and accessories (like the bag Heidi carries) were used for the nerdy characters (although the Hawaiian shirt that I wore was mine). The yellow, polyester, faux-patchwork quilt shirt that Julie wears in the first scene is one shirt that particularly reminds me of my mom. I think this old shirt was thrown out a few years ago, so I'm glad that we have it captured on film.

Apple Gathering

My family received a bumper crop of fruit on their trees this year, and a few times this week we have gone out into the back yard in order to pick apples off of the trees (and also off of the ground). Lucy has loved gathering the apples and putting them into bushel baskets, and she particularly has liked sorting the "yucky" ones from the good ones.

I do think that this experience has affected (and perhaps tainted?) her thoughts about apples and picking apples. Tonight, my brother A pointed to a picture on our dining room wall, The Apple Gatherers (1880) by Frederick Morgan, and asked Lucy, "What are they doing?"

Lucy replied, "Picking apples...yuck!"

We all chuckled at the thought that she now things picking apples consists of yucky fruit, and even more that the S family's trees make (solely?) yucky fruit. Oh dear! Ha ha! Some of the apples are tart or have worms, but some of the fruit is quite good.

This painting by Frederick Morgan has been in our dining room for years and years, and it is something that I associated with my family's home (as well as my mom's aesthetic preferences). However, it just occurred to me this week that the painting is on the same wall that faces the fruit trees in the yard, which makes me wonder if my mom thought about the subject matter and the physical alignment with our miniature orchard when she placed the painting on the wall.

Ironically, this painting portrays a romanticized view of orchard workers gathering a bountiful harvest, but my two-year-old isn't old enough to think about the romanticized effort or the suggestions of fertility and bounty by having (mostly) women collect the fruit! Maybe one day she'll think more than "yuck" when she sees this painting.

She's Always a Woman to Me

Tonight I dashed into the grocery store to pick up something on my way home, and as I was searching the aisles, Billy Joel's song She's Always a Woman to Me came on over the sound system. I haven't thought about this song for a long time, but it actually is one that reminds me of my mom. She wasn't very interested in popular music, but I distinctly remember her singing the chorus of this song, particularly these lines (I can almost hear her voice sustaining the "oooooh" words):

Oh, she takes care of herself, she can wait if she wants
She's ahead of her time
Oh, she never gives out and she never gives in
She just changes her mind




I think we even had a conversation about these words, and she was asking me what I thought it meant that the girl was "ahead of her time." I don't remember exactly what we said in that conversation, but I remember coming away with the impression that I mom liked the maturity, independence and strong will of the woman described in this song. And I like those qualities too, probably because my own mother modeled those traits for me in her own character.

I always think about my mom when I hear this song (and my trip to the grocery store made me realize that I don't hear this song very often anymore). Even the line "she just changes her mind" is typical of my mom's approach to life and healthy living. I once remember hearing my mom describe herself as "an extremist" when she was talking to a friend on the phone  - she was referring to the extreme choices that she made in her healthy eating habits, and it really is an apropos description. But my mom also would change her mind often about whatever route of extremist behavior that she felt was the most appropriate, based on whatever she was currently reading or thinking about. So I always have a little smile when I hear that line about the woman who changes her mind, and because it seems like that trait also resonated with my mother. Perhaps, in some ways, it is a trait that I have as well.

For Mom: Gardens and Garden Quotes

Today is my mom's birthday. I've been thinking of her lately, not only because of her birthday, but since Mother's Day is this coming Sunday. A few days ago my older sister proposed the idea that my siblings help to clear out the garden bed in honor of my mom, which I thought was a good idea. I wish I could be there to help.

My mom liked to garden, but she also was practical in understanding how much time she could devote to yard work. For one thing, her allergies were bothered by certain weeds. I particularly remember her waging war against what she called ragweed - although in writing this post I realized that the plant that I remember her calling "ragweed" was actually kochia (ragweed looks very different). When we lived in Colorado, she pulled up lots of kochia from our huge, huge yard. She also would pour vinegar on weeds to kill them and stop them from growing back, which was her natural method of applying weed killer. I remember she also spread a black tarp ground cover and rocks around the area of the front of the yard in Colorado, to limit all of the weeding (our property was about 7/8 of an acre). Sometimes the kids would be enlisted to help pull out weeds, and would scout out these kochia weeds among the gray rocks:

For one or two years during our time in Colorado, we also planted a large vegetable garden in the backyard. I especially remember growing bush beans, probably because I thought those were the most fun to collect at harvest time. There also was a huge rhubarb plant in the garden, which I think was there before we bought our house. I remember we bought special hoses to help water all of the rows of vegetables. If I remember right, we could hook the hoses right up to the spigot of our well, because the garden was right next to the well house.

My mom was really thrilled to move into my family's current home, since the previous owner's late husband had planted a garden with different flowers that would bloom at different times of the season. My mom also planted some things in the yard which fit with her own particular interests and aesthetic, like the colonnade apple trees in our front yard. I think she planted a raspberry bush in the backyard after I moved away to college.

One of my mom's favorite quotes about gardens was one that I'm pretty sure was in her grandmother's garden, and her mom (my grandma) had a plaque with this same quote:  

The kiss of the sun for pardon, the song of the birds for mirth, one is nearer to God in a garden than anywhere else on earth.

In honor of my mom, I started to decorate my yard today by getting a hanging flower basket. I've also gathered a couple of quotes about gardens that I think she'd enjoy. She also would probably be amused by this sign, since it fits with the way my family jokingly interacts with each other (which is best described as wit or sarcasm that is laced with oblique religious references or a slight air of puritanism). Here are some other quotes that I like and I think my mom would like, not only because of the content but because most of them are a little bit more old fashioned or historical in nature:

Where you tend a rose, my lad, a thistle cannot grow. - Francis Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden

If you look the right way, you can see that the whole world is a garden. - Francis Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden

To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow.  - Audrey Hepburn

If you want to be happy for a lifetime, be a gardener. - Chinese proverb

Nothing is more the child of art than a garden. - Sir Walter Scott

Adopt the pace of nature, her secret is patience. - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Earth laughs in flowers  - Ralph Waldo Emerson

We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses. - Abraham Lincoln

Happy birthday, Mom! You are loved and missed. It was fun to find these quotes today and make a new memory with you.

More Paintings of Women Reading

John Lavery, Girl in a Red Dress Reading by a Swimming Pool, 1922

I have found some more paintings that I like. I was particularly drawn to this one by Lavery, due to the orange and blue color combinations. I really like when complementary colors are used in tandem, since the colors visually reinforce each other and appear at their finest.

I saw this painting tonight and it made me immediately think of my mom. My mom wasn't really a fan of swimming, so I think she would connect with the woman who is reading in this painting. Plus, my mom also liked to read and would bring books with her when she knew that the activity wouldn't really interest her. She and my dad liked to tell the story of when my mom brought a book on a date with my dad. She wasn't interested in watching the basketball game, but she wanted to be with my dad, so she went and brought a book to read. My dad likes to explain how the whole crowd was on their feet, cheering for the players, except for my mom who was absorbed in her book.

I think my mom didn't really like swimming for two reasons. She didn't like getting exposed to the chemicals that were put in the pool, and and also didn't like wearing a swimsuit in front of other people. I can think of only one time that I saw my mom in a swimming suit, and it was a suit that had a skirt attached to it (so that she could cover up her body a little bit better).

 Albert Edelfelt, Woman and Parasol, 1886

My obsession with Albert Edelfelt continues. I got a Kindle book that has images of all of his paintings, which led me to discover this one. Since the blossoms have started to come out, I particularly like this painting with the white tree blossoms in the background. I also love that the blossoms have created a dappled light effect on the parasol.

Seymour Joseph Guy, Summer Issue, 1861

I don't like this painting as much as Winslow Homer's Morning Glories (which has similar composition and subject matter) but it is still very nice. I like the color of the dress and the use of light and shadow (especially the contrast of the shaded area with the trees to the more open meadow in the background).

My Recent Art Discoveries

There have been several paintings going around Twitter that I have liked recently, and I thought that I would share them here. It doesn't seem appropriate to share these paintings on my art history blog, because I don't have anything scholarly or noteworthy to say about them. And besides, I like these paintings for more personal reasons, so I'd rather explain myself here.

Albert Gustav Edelfelt, Idyll, 1878

I just was introduced to this painting tonight, and I love it for a lot of reasons. First of all, I want to wear a ruffly pink dress like that (complete with a parasol as an accessory!) while I sit outside in a garden and read a book. In fact, the sleeves of this dress remind me a bit of the sleeves that I had added to my wedding dress. I showed this painting to J tonight and said it would be nice to have him wear a handsome suit and join me in such a garden, and he jokingly responded (while looking at the male figure), "Yes, you'd want me to wear both a suit and a full head of hair!" Ha ha! (I only don't want J to be smoking a cigarette. Everything else in this picture is ideal. An ideal idyll.)
 

 Albert Edelfelt, Good Friends (Portrait of the Artist's Sister Bertha Edelfelt), 1881

This is another painting by the Finnish artist Albert Edelfelt. I've only recently begun to discover his art. This painting is so great on many levels, especially because of the girl's dress, reddish-orange stockings and shoes. I love the colors and textures of the silken pillows, too. Lately I've thought about getting a print of this painting and putting it in Lucy's room. Maybe it would encourage her to love reading (and cute little doggies) as she gets older. (Note: HERE is a higher resolution image of the painting. The coloring is a bit different, and I'm not quite sure which one is accurate. But I think I like the color scheme a bit better in the image I have posted.)

 Albert Edelfelt, Chez L'Artiste (Les Graveurs), 1881
One last painting by Edelfelt. Some of the proportions of the woman's body are a wee bit funky, but I still like this painting quite a bit. This painting reminds me a little bit of other paintings from the 19th century that depict women in studio spaces. But I especially love this painting because of the dress.  The black and white details seem like something that Manet would love to paint. And that the woman is looking at art, of course.

Wilhelm Schutze (1840-1898), Best Friends, n.d.

The style of this genre painting reminds me a bit of Greuze and Chardin. Perhaps I am becoming drawn to depictions of little girls because I now have a daughter myself. The round cheeks and soft arms of this little girl make me think about Lucy and what she might look like in the next few years. Plus, I just think that this subject matter is very sweet. Another painting with a little girl that recently appealed to me is George Frederich Leighton's The Music Lesson (1884).

 Lawrence Alma Tadema, A Kiss, 1891
This is another painting with a darling little girl that makes me think of Lucy. I like to think that the woman on the right, who is kissing the little girl, is the girl's mother. Plus, the light blue color of the water is very striking. I also love the composition, with the high horizon line of the water and the strong receding line created by the stone parapet on the left.

 Winslow Homer, Morning Glories, 1873

I like this painting for a lot of reasons. First of all, I like that this painting takes me by surprise, because it doesn't really remind me of other paintings by Winslow Homer. The potted plants in the foreground remind me of RB and the old Bellevue house. I also like the outfit of this girl, and I like to think how the windows are a little reminiscent of the windows of my own house. Plus, I like the geometricity of the composition and the red hues of the house and plants. J likes the flatness of the painting, with a lot of straight lines and rows.

I also like this painting because it reminds me of my mom. On one hand, I think that my mom would have liked the subject matter, since she liked some paintings of young females that were outdoors or out in nature (like Bougureau's shepherdesses). But this painting's title also reminds me of a poem that my mom wrote when she was in elementary school. I think she wrote this poem when she was in first or second grade, if I remember right. My mom's teacher really praised her for this poem, and it is quite nice. My mom told us about getting recognized for this poem by her teacher, and I can tell that it really made a positive impression on her. I think it's a great example of how a teacher's sincere enthusiasm and encouragement is not easily forgotten by the student. I'm pretty sure that this is how my mom's poem went:

 The morning glory

Has come again

To wind around my roses. 

Claude Monet, The Magpie, 1869

I love the composition of this painting, as well as the long blue shadows that infiltrate into the foreground of this piece, creating a nice contrast with the white snow. This painting was made a few years before Impressionism really took off, and in some ways the whites and dark browns remind me a bit more of Manet's aesthetic (except Manet would have used black instead of brown, if he had made this painting). So, to me, this Monet is like a warm, outdoorsy Manet.

Alfred Stevens, Young Woman Reading, 1906

 I love the strong composition in this painting, in having the girl centrally placed and frontally oriented. I also love that she has one petite foot peeking out from her dress, and this foot helps to subtly emphasize the vertical axis of the painting. Plus, that dress! I need a frilly white dress for when I read. (In truth, the white tiered curtains in Lucy's room look very similar to this dress.) The gauzy fabric and flowing lines of the tiered skirt provide a nice contrast from the direct, frontal composition. Plus, this dress is awesome because tiered skirts remind me of the Minoans and the depiction of Shamash on the Stele of Hammurabi.

John White Alexander, An Idle Moment, 1885

 This lady has the auburn hair that Anne Shirley and I could only dream of owning. And did you notice the lovely curl that is coming out of her bun? I think that this painting's title fits with the subject matter, but the strong brushstrokes used to create the hair and the sleeve of this women suggest anything but an idle moment on part of the artist. What vigor and purpose are shown through these strokes! This painting is also great because the dark palette, combined with the fair skin of the woman's arm, remind me a little of Caravaggio's dark palette and tenebristic techniques.

George Elgar Hicks, On the Seashore, 1879

I love the sweet, fluid lines that are used to create the dainty facial features of this girl. Plus, I love the way that her tresses are lightly swept about by the wind. (J pointed out that the texture and color of this girl's hair is similar to that of my sister V.) This girl seems graceful to me for so many reasons, even in the manner that she lifts her hand up to her neckline. I'd love to carry myself and look as graceful as this figure.

George Frederich Leighton, The Painter's Honeymoon, 1864

I love this painting, not only because of the composition and texture created by the woman's dress on the right, but also because of the subject matter. It reminds me of how I like to sit with J and look at his different creative projects (although his projects most often appear on a computer screen instead of a draftsman's board). But I think that the sentiment is the same. Here is a wife who is invested in and appreciative of the creativity of her spouse. Plus, I love the way that the figures are holding hands and leaning against each other, since it reminds me of how J and I like to express our mutual affection and love.

I suppose you can tell what type of subject matter and aesthetic has been appealing to me lately! I like depictions of women in period clothing who are reading books or lost in thought. (J sums it up by saying that I like paintings of women in "foofy dresses.") It's funny how much I am drawn to paintings of the 19th century. When I was an undergrad, I deliberately avoided taking an upper-level class on 19th century art, because of my childish dislike for Impressionism (a silly opinionated bias that I have overcome, except for my distaste for Renoir). But in truth, the 19th century is really where I am drawn. If I could go back in time, I would have focused more energy on learning about the 19th century when I was a student.

On Kindness

I have been thinking lately about kindness and the impact of kind words. I'm not sure why, but a couple of days ago I was thinking about how I can still remember some unkind things that were said to me years and years ago. The first was a comment that was made when I was in eighth grade, and the second was a passing remark someone made about nine years ago. And to be fair, I think that one of these people didn't even realize that their remark hurt my feelings. Both comments were about inconsequential things (my makeup and my striped yellow shirt), but they have been ingrained in my memory. Really, though, I'm glad that I remember these instances, because they remind me to be careful about the things that I say, especially when it comes to someone's appearance or fashion choices.

Whenever I'm reminded of these two instances, both of which I remember quite distinctly, I always wonder if there is someone who remembers unkind things that I said to them. Perhaps I have unintentionally said unkind things that someone remembers as distinctly as I remember the things that have been said to me. I hope not, but I can't be sure. I do remember needing to apologize to someone for saying something unkind when I was on a study abroad in college. This friend was very noble and has continued to be very kind to me over the past eleven (!) years. I can't even really remember exactly what I said that was unkind; I hope that this friend has forgotten whatever I said, too.

I've also been thinking about kindness over the past few months because of two books: Wonder by R. J. Palacio and The Kindness Book by Welleran Poltarnees. I received The Kindness Book for Christmas when I was younger (there is a dedication in my mom's handwriting from "Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus" on the inside cover), but I had forgotten about this book until my sister sent it to me several months ago. This book reminds me of my mom, not only because of the dedication but because it is full of turn-of-the-century illustrations that I'm sure she liked. For that reason, I keep this book on a side table in our bedroom. Sam has asked about the book several times and we've read some of the quotes together. Here are two of my favorites:

Life is short, and we never have too much time for gladdening the hearts of those who are travelling the dark journey with us. Oh, be swift to love, make haste to be kind! -Henri-Frédéric Amiel

Let us open up our natures, throw wide the doors of our hearts and let in the sunshine of good will and kindness. - O. S. Marden

The other book, Wonder, is one that I read several months ago. I think it is a great book for young teens to read, especially those in middle school. I especially love this quote that is given at the end of the book as part of a graduation speech:

[Be] kinder than is necessary. Because it's not enough to be kind. Be kinder than is needed.

I feel like there are ways that I could improve and be more kind. I've had a lot of kindnesses shown to me recently, especially since Lucy was born, and I want to extend similar kindnesses to others. I'm trying to not get frustrated with Sam when he doesn't quickly respond to my requests or instructions. (I feel like I've been getting after Sam a lot, lately.) I can extend myself more to people who need my love and support. I can be less protective of my routines and my space, especially if it means that I can be kind to others in the process. Maybe, one day, I will attain enough of a kind and loving heart that I won't even worry about myself or my selfish, silly concerns when I interact with people.

Summer Recap

We have been really spoiled this past summer, since J has been able to be home with us for over seven weeks! J had four weeks of paternity leave, and then was able to tack on his three and a half weeks of accrued vacation time after that point. This is the first week that he has had to go back to work.

So much has happened over the past few weeks, that I feel like it's too daunting (and time consuming) to put everything down in a long post right now. Instead, I want to write down some short memories and thoughts from what I will remember about this summer:

Lucy the Angel Baby: She is a good nurser, a good sleeper, and a happy baby. She smiles and coos often when she is a awake, or just happily chills in a swing or bouncey seat. She often is even cheerful when we make her do "tummy time" on the floor. We love to hold her and snuggle with her. 

 

Sam the Angel Big Brother: Sam adores his little sister. He is really sweet and gentle with her. He loves to be around her and try and get her to smile. I feel like he's adjusted to this major change in our family really well. He also has been really helpful with grabbing diapers, giving Lucy her pacifier, etc. He also spontaneously makes little drawings and notes that say "I love Lusee" or "I love Lusy" (we're still working on spelling her name, but I love his phonetic attempt).

 The B family brothers came to visit with their families. Sam loved playing with his cousins at RB. Lucy was only two weeks old, so I spent quite a bit of time at home, but I did get to go out to RB and enjoy some lovely summer meals outside.

  My sisters' visit to Seattle: V,  C, and L came to help with baby Lucy. It was miserably hot that week, but it was still fun to be together. It was especially fun for Sam to have L with us, since they could play together all day long. They got to go a couple of places together, including the beach and the Family Fun Center. My "Ant Bee" and her son joined us for a two days too, and it was really fun to have them all here. It was especially helpful for my aunt to take Sam to the aquarium and market one day.

Sam played on his first t-ball team. He loved going to practice with his friend Grey, who was also on the team. It was fun to go to his t-ball games, especially since all of the outfielders would run in a herd (from wherever they were located in the field) to try and catch the ball. Lucy rooted for Sam from the sidelines for a few games, although most of her cheering took place with her sleepy eyes closed fast.

 Lucy and Soren cheered their siblings from the sidelines

We took Lucy on her first hike, to the Swamp Monster trail on Tiger Mountain.

 The Enchanted Forest! We took a quick trip to my favorite theme park one day. I was glad to show J this place, since he had never been before. I was glad that J found it as charming as I do. It was fun to see J and Sam go on all of the rides that I enjoyed as a kid, especially the log ride and the bobsled ride. Lucy was great on this trip. She slept the whole way to the park (3.5 hours!) and then slept while I carried her around in a Moby Wrap.

 

 We feel pretty lucky to live in a place where you can watch the Blue Angels practice cool stunts.

 We took a road trip to Utah last week, so we could go to the Weber and visit with family members. I hope to do a post or two exclusively dedicated to that trip, which I felt was a big success. Lucy even slept in a tent for four nights! When leaving for the trip and coming home, I was reminded of another way in which I am like my mom. Whenever we went on vacation, my mom tried to have the house completely clean before we left. Then, when we came home, there wasn't as much housework to do. As I vacuumed and scrubbed before our trip, and when I enjoyed the clean house as we walked in the door, I felt a fun connection with my mom.

Other thoughts:

• I read Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier for the first time. I loved the unexpected twists in the plot. I doubt this book would be as fun to read for a over and over, though, since there wouldn't be the same element of surprise. Plus, the protagonist leaves much wanting, especially through a feminist lens. She is a weak and uncertain creature, and her first name isn't even revealed to the reader! We only know her as Mrs. de Winter, which is fitting, since she seems to assume her identity and confidence through her husband. Nonetheless, I really liked the book, and I was especially interested to learn about how the novel was sparked by the author's own jealousy of her husband's first fiancée.
• J and I watched Hitchcock's Rebecca after I finished the novel. The movie was alright, but neither of us really liked Joan Fontaine or Lawrence Olivier in their roles. I thought that Joan Fontaine was too pretty to be Mrs. de Winter. And I also wished that the actress who played Mrs. Danvers would have looked a little bit more skeleton-like, to fit with the descriptions in the book.
• Rebecca was the first book that I read exclusively on my phone. It was really convenient to read while nursing, since I could hold the device in one hand. It also was convenient to read in the middle of the night, since I could keep the lights dim but have my phone illuminated.
• J and I watched the first season of Mr. Selfridge together. It was compelling enough, but both of us were a little unimpressed. I didn't feel like the characters were developed enough for me to genuinely care about them and their triumphs or problems. I would think that there are too many characters for the show to sufficiently focus on, but then again, I feel like Downton Abbey does a great job at developing many characters in depth. Anyhow, I think that I will stick with one more season before I write off the show altogether. Perhaps Harry Selfridge will be a little less annoying and a bit more redeeming in the second season?
• J watched several soccer games of the World Cup. We've never been big into watching sports, but it was fun to see a few games. Soccer is much more interesting to watch than other sports, I think.