Some Art

The twins had asked me for some art for their birthday, so I took the opportunity last week to do some art with books. I got a book from the antique store and had fun doing things with the pages.

 First I tried different styles of "blackout poetry." I plan to do more interesting versions of these in the future. It's hard to choose the words, but looks pretty cool once it's finished.

For the twins I made quotes on the book pages, which I'd done a watercolor wash on first. I was really happy with how these turned out.

Dad's birthday!

Needless to day, May is a birthday-filled time in our house. Happy 55th birthday, Dad! Thanks for being my poetry teacher, essay-writing mentor, fellow-Bach-lover, world traveler, and an awesome dad!

In Morocco last summer. 

In Santa Fe giving a lecture.

When he was little. c:

With Mom about 25 years ago. 

With Patrick in Prague last year. 

With Ceal and Finn during poetry!

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

On Tuesday in poetry class we read a bunch of poems by Alfred, Lord Tennyson. (Read all about him here.) We discussed his style, themes, and life.
To me Tennyson is a very sensory poet. His writing conjures up images, makes you really see, feel, hear, smell, taste what's going on. As Dad said, he's really good at giving you a mood in his words. The meter, assonance and consonance, and onomatopoeia (among other things) help to set a tone and mood in his poems.
My personal favorite of the evening was part of a large collection of poems Tennyson dedicated to his very close friend, Arthur Hallam, who died of a brain hemorrhage at a young age. The death of this friend (who had also been engaged to Tennyson's sister) affected him greatly and inspired some of his best-known poems. The collection is called In Memoriam A.H.H. In our book Immortal Poems of the English Language there were nine selections from In Memoriam, and my favorite is called O Yet We Trust.

Oh yet we trust that somehow good

Will be the final goal of ill,

To pangs of nature, sins of will,

Defects of doubt, and taints of blood;

That nothing walks with aimless feet;

That not one life shall be destroyed,

Or cast as rubbish to the void,

When God hath made the pile complete;

That not a worm is cloven in vain;

That not a moth with vain desire

Is shrivelled in a fruitless fire,

Or but subserves another's gain.

Behold, we know not anything;

I can but trust that good shall fall

At last—far off—at last, to all,

And every winter change to spring.

So runs my dream: but what am I?

An infant crying in the night:

An infant crying for the light:

And with no language but a cry.

Poetry, and other things

In a couple weeks I'm going to participate in our homeschool group's Poetry Out Loud contest. You memorize two of the poems found in their anthology and recite them in front of a representative of the organization. Then she decides who did the best and whoever wins goes on to the state competition. Last year I got second.
The first poem I'm doing is by Seamus Heaney, who actually translated the version of Beowulf I read for literature this year. It's called "Blackberry-Picking."

Late August, given heavy rain and sun

For a full week, the blackberries would ripen.

At first, just one, a glossy purple clot

Among others, red, green, hard as a knot.

You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet

Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it

Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust for

Picking. Then red ones inked up and that hunger

Sent us out with milk cans, pea tins, jam-pots

Where briars scratched and wet grass bleached our boots.

Round hayfields, cornfields and potato-drills

We trekked and picked until the cans were full,

Until the tinkling bottom had been covered

With green ones, and on top big dark blobs burned

Like a plate of eyes. Our hands were peppered

With thorn pricks, our palms sticky as Bluebeard's.

We hoarded the fresh berries in the byre.

But when the bath was filled we found a fur,

A rat-grey fungus, glutting on our cache.

The juice was stinking too. Once off the bush

The fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour.

I always felt like crying. It wasn't fair

That all the lovely canfuls smelt of rot.

Each year I hoped they'd keep, knew they would not.

Isn't it sweet? I love the imagery in it.

My other poem is "Surprised By Joy" by William Wordsworth. (You may recognize this as the title of a book by C. S. Lewis--he took it from this poem.)

Surprised by joy—impatient as the Wind

I turned to share the transport—Oh! with whom

But Thee, long buried in the silent Tomb,

That spot which no vicissitude can find?

Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind—

But how could I forget thee?—Through what power,

Even for the least division of an hour,

Have I been so beguiled as to be blind

To my most grievous loss!—That thought’s return

Was the worst pang that sorrow ever bore,

Save one, one only, when I stood forlorn,

Knowing my heart’s best treasure was no more;

That neither present time, nor years unborn

Could to my sight that heavenly face restore.

It's got a very different tone. I like how he manages to get his sorrow across in a way that is melancholy but not desperate.
Now for the other things. 

We had an awesome Christ the King Sunday with great music. I'm so excited for Advent! I'm already singing "Creator of the Stars of Night" in my head. Advent is such a lovely time. It's so cozy and anticipatory yet solemn.
Also, after a brief two-day respite from the snow, it's started up again. It was literally snowing the ENTIRE week last week. But then a lot of it melted over the weekend. We had temperatures of a scorching 36°! T-shirt weather, for sure.
My writing class and I are Skyping weekly during our very long break between semesters. Our teacher purposefully made our break long so we could have more time to write! Isn't she nice? Oh, and while I'm talking about her, check out this news story on her son: http://www.ibtimes.com/blind-13-year-old-might-be-able-go-college-dance-thanks-google-glass-1726424 Pretty cool, eh?
Well, I think that's it for now. I've been knitting and crocheting a lot and soon I'll make a post about the projects I've done.
A bientot!