Bruce Barone ~ Journal
May 2010
Monday, May 31, 2010.
Memorial Day.
Today I am reminded of an excerpt from a long poem which I wrote years ago:
- This history is not, as many people assume,
- a tale of slow progress,
- leading to greater diversity
- of kinds and numbers.
- It is, in important respects, a series of plateaus
- punctuated by rare and seminal events
- that shift systems from one level to another.
- From teenage innocence to loss of youth.
- Issues for older men and women.
- Memories of history. Oral histories
- provoked by images -- it is both fact and fiction,
- fiction and fact
a few pages later:
- With scarcely an interruption,
- pharoah succeeded pharoah
- and dynasty followed dynasty
- for nearly 3,000 years before Christ,
- a continuity of government unmatched by any other
- people. To appreciate the grandeur of that achievement
- one needs to imagine the American republic surviving
- until the year 4776.
- Therefore the mystic must rise above conceptual thought.
- Sudden and complete is the experience;
- of this absolute nothing whatever can be postulated
- and the objects become one
- again -- it is an intuitive realization
- and what you behold is your real self.
- To affirm or deny is to limit;
- to limit is to shut out the light of truth.
- It is a wonder
- that it is
- all connected
and later:
- I need a starting point.
- Onward Christian Soldiers
- marching on to war
- with the cross of Jesus
- (we sung this in school in sixth grade).
- If I write it all down maybe I'll find out.
- On the transmission of mind.
- They would toast birthdays and special ocassions.
- Being the teaching of Zen Master
- Huang Po as recorded by the scholar
- P'ei Hsiu of the Tang Dynasty.
- Enlightenment is a process which occurs
- in less time than it takes to blink an eye.
Saturday, May 30, 2010
Granville.
Friday, May 29, 2010
For Your Love.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
The Lower Mill Pond.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Song for Daryl.
"Who is the happy Warrior? Who is he
Whom every Man in arms should wish to be?
--It is the generous Spirit, who ....
--He who, though thus endued as with a sense
And faculty for storm and turbulence,
Is yet a Soul whose master bias leans
To home-felt pleasures and to gentle scenes;
Sweet images! which, wheresoe'er he be,
Are at his heart; and such fidelity
It is his darling passion to approve;
More brave for this, that he hath much to love ..."
Excerpt from Wordsworth's "Character of the Happy Warrior""
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Poem for Danielle.
Found on the web:
This site, from a photographer whose name is, if I am not mistaken, Bruce Barone, is amazing for the quality of its photos. You really have to check out the Famous People, Famous Places section first: black and white, a list of about 60 high quality photos (slow to load) of a considerable originality.
Then, if you check out the archives, you will find a trove of photos, spanning throughout several years, arranged by the dozens per month, where you can really spend hours and discover at times amazing pictures. It's like a dive into a coral reef.
Of course, good photographers are much more than we may suspect: and if you stick to the most famous ones, perhaps part of the metaphors that Barone's photo seem to suggest are metaphors you already found expressed elsewhere (some Diane Arbus, some Helmut Newton maybe).
But the fact is, it seems easier to be a great photographer -but not so famous- than a great painter: because if you browse the net you may find several great photographers. They are like the books of "minor" writers that Henry Miller talked about in Plexus: they are not minor in the least.
This Bruce Barone may easily become one of your favourties.
Monday, May 24, 2010
In an Octopus's Garden.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Mary on Main.
From my book, Famous People Famous Places
Luc Sante, writing in the book's introduction:
"Barone's portrait of the lost metropolis of twenty-five or thirty years ago is appropriately elegiac, like a slow passage for unaccompanied cello. It’s filled with pretty girls and bright-eyed kids, but they inhabit their city like birds of passage. Even the occasional crowd seems fugitive and half-formed."
Saturday, May 22, 2010
About Looking. "Eeny, meeny, miny, mo, missed a chipmunk cause you're slow," said Alvin the Chipmunk.
...what has been best done in the world - the works of genius - cost nothing. There is no painful effort, but it is the spontaneous flowing of the thought. Shakespeare made his Hamlet as a bird weaves its nest."
~Emerson
Friday, May 21, 2010
Outside People are Clapping.
This is the day the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it. ~Psalm118:24
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Famous People Famous Places. In my book's introduction, Luc Sante writes:
Bruce Barone’s photographs are among other things annals of a former world, one which was documented so fleetingly and obscurely that I sometimes have felt as if it existed only in my imagination......Barone, unlike many photographers of the time, was not trying to make pictures of what he wished existed, or of what happened in protected spaces behind closed doors, but recorded what actually transpired when he walked down the street, in Midtown Manhattan or in Hoboken......Barone’s photographs catch the distinctive silence of the era, its somnolence, its vague menace--unspecified, sometimes, even after it had kicked you in the head and taken the six bucks in your pocket--and its weather...
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Susan's Haircut.
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Tuesday, May 18, 2010
The Lower Mill Pond. Stopped at The Lower Mill Pond today in Easthampton, Massachusetts. Beautiful. But sad to see so much garbage littering the shoreline.
Monday, May 17, 2010
The First Peony.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
The First Family BBQ. What a great BBQ we had today; the first time we got to sit outside around the picnic table, too.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
The Cora Bells.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Reading. Enjoying a few quiet moments this morning reading "Onward and Upward in the Garden" by Katharine S. White.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Nadine.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Lily of the Valley.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
A Surprise Gift. My friend, Alessaundra Suvet, emailed me a promotion piece she created for me today. It's to appear on Facebook, on my Fan page:
Monday, May 10, 2010
Bear Hole Still Life. A bit over-sharpened, but I almost like the way it hurts my eyes.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Mother's Day. In my mother's high school yearbook, I read: Shirley Lawson. Laughing Blond. Athletic. Talkative. English. Home Economics. Social Science. Commercial. Volleyball. Basketball. Ping Pong. Life Saving. Stage Crew. Nickname--Skipp.
Yes, my Mom, Shirley, aka Skipp, was "The Ideal."
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Sage. We found ourselves at Sage Books today, which turned out to be a delightful hour spent poring through volumes of books on the Middle Ages, Art, Nature, Religion, Travel, and, of course cookbooks.
We returned home with these:
Friday, May 7, 2010
Brides. For my new wedding promotion, an over-sized postcard, I am thinking of using this image, along with the headline "Brides Love Bruce:"
I am also planning to use this theme, "......... Loves Bruce" for other marketing efforts. For example, "Interior Designers Love Bruce..." "Art Collectors Love Bruce..." "Editors Love Bruce..."
Thursday, May 6, 2010
What Bloomed Today. The day after Miss Bateman bloomed, this purple clematis bloomed:
Wednesday, May 5, 2010.
Miss Bateman Clematis. Today, our Miss Bateman Clematis bloomed. Miss Bateman is an extremely early bloomer (She was the first large-flowered hybrid to flower for us this year; last year, though, she never did bloom.) and is in addition noteworthy for her overall excellence as a garden plant.
Miss Bateman is an heirloom clematis dating to 1869, developed by nurseryman Charles Noble of Surrey, England, from a Clematis patens cross of 'Fortunei' with 'Standishii.' Both of these were spotted by by Robert Fortune growing in Tokyo neighborhoods, who sent them to Charles Noble & John Standish's nursery in the early 1860s. Noble's hybrid was named for Catherine Bateman, the daughter of a famous orchid grower, James Bateman.
She is compact to 8’, with 4- 6" flowers of a creamy white with chocolate-red stamens. When the flowers first open in the cool days of early spring the mid-rib is frequently tinged pale-green but this quickly fades to pure white as the flower expands. Miss Bateman is naturally inclined to have multiple stems and proper pruning of young plants will ensure a full and robust specimen at maturity.
Spring flowering is so heavy as to nearly obscure the foliage. If a good fall display is wanted, it is advised to remove the seedheads as soon as flowering is finished and fertilizing generously, first with an all-purpose fertilizer (20-20-20) and then a blossom-boosting fertilizer. Deadheading is not generally necessary for clematis that flower in spring and fall, but Miss Bateman expends so much energy in the initial flowering that she needs the extra "shot in the arm". Finally, to add to her virtues, Miss Bateman is not only beautiful but also thoroughly reliable. She’s an excellent candidate for the small garden and container culture.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Egg. Last week, a friend of mine, Rachel Wolfe (click Blog), who I love and admire for her curiosity, intelligence, humor, photography and writing, wrote:
I love this idea. Today, therefore, I am exploring the meaning of the word "egg."
My research begins and I soon find a poem, not so much about "the egg," but I quite like it:
Scrambled Eggs and Whiskey
Scrambled eggs and whiskeyin the false-dawn light. Chicago,a sweet town, bleak, God knows,but sweet. Sometimes. Andweren’t we fine tonight?When Hank set up that limpingtreble roll behind memy horn just growled and Ithought my heart would burst.And Brad M. pressing with thesoft stick, and Joe-Annesinging low. Here we are nowin the White Tower, leaningon one another, too tiredto go home. But don’t say a word,don’t tell a soul, they wouldn’tunderstand, they couldn’t, neverin a million years, how fine,how magnificent we werein that old club tonight.
I am thinking of the egg. I feel I need a rebirth and thus the egg seems a symbol of new prosperity, a new way of thinking, of action.
Here's another poem:
Birds all the summer day
Flutter and quarrel
Here in the arbour-like
Tent of the laurel.
Here in the fork
The brown nest is seated;
For little blue eggs
The mother keeps heated.
While we stand watching her
Staring like gabies,
Safe in each egg are the
Bird's little babies.
Soon the frail eggs they shall
Chip, and upspringing
Make all the April woods
Merry with singing.
Younger than we are,
O children, and frailer,
Soon in the blue air they'll be,
Singer and sailor.
We, so much older,
Taller and stronger,
We shall look down on the
Birdies no longer.
They shall go flying
With musical speeches
High overhead in the
Tops of the beeches.
In spite of our wisdom
And sensible talking,
We on our feet must go
Plodding and walking.
by Robert Louis Stevenson
Some people say one of my signature images is this one:
The egg. I am called to think of the egg today.
While researching the egg today I found this poem, which nicely sums up some of what I am thinking about "the egg." I like it:
One Egg = One Day
by Fran Crawford
I have a picture of an egg
Painted by a friend
It's what I see to start each day
Hanging there at my bed's endA day is like an egg, you know
Self-contained within its shell
Filled with energy and purpose
And yet remains so very frailTo free the many options here
A crack is all it takes
The shell turns loose potential
Like the dawn as each day breaksThe fate of either is our choice
The egg ...to hatch ...or boil ...or fry
The day ...to fill with worthwhile tasks
Or just enjoy as life goes byAll of our days, as all of our eggs
Are ours to use, but listen, folks
Beware of how you handle them
Some of them have double yolks!
Thank You, Rachel!
Monday, May 3, 2010
Factoids. A thoughtful message or two arrived in my email today. It was from Thomas Burr, a retired teacher from Ramsey High School, from where I graduated in 1970. Tom and I recently bumped into each other, so to speak, on Facebook. He is an accomplished nature photographer and also takes a keen interest in the former students of RHS. I asked him if he remembered my brother Dennis. He writes:
Of course I remember Dennis. And when you said "he has written a lot," you really meant it. Did an Amazon search--wow! Are any of his writings about Campgaw and such in his books? Always interested in such things because I'm a member of the Fyke Nature Association, which, when Campgaw was "Fyke Park," actually managed the tract, did nesting bird censuses, etc. When the county took it over and spoiled it with ski areas, the association left and now manages the Celery Farm Natural Area in Allendale, where I do the majority of my photography (still enjoy Campgaw, though, since it is right around the corner.)
Give my best to Dennis! Oh, thank you for Googling your brother. Very interesting story--so I ordered the book. I have a small collection of works by old RHS students, so I'll enjoy having a Barone in my library.Here are a couple of historical factoids for you. One of the autographed books I have in my library is called "Waterfalls of the Mid-Atlantic Region" by your classmate Gary Letcher. He's an environmental lawyer in Maryland, but he loves exploring waterfalls. (He did a book signing in Ramsey a few years back.)
Factoid 2 (Somewhat related to Dennis' police story): His classmate Jim Batelli is the Mahwah Police Chief.
In my Ramsey High School Yearbook, he wrote:
To a fine young man who took a lot of gruff at various time from a grouchy old science teacher. Best wishes for a successful collage career.
Note: science was not my best subject.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Bear Hole. What remains of the once-popular resort known as home to a 3-legged bear and the source of a popular spring water is beauty and vision; heavenliness, quiet, a crumbling chimney, a waterfall, a bear-den. After walking a mile or so through the woods, where we heard the songs of cardinals, blue jays, woodpeckers, and hawks, we came upon this:
Our hike began at the stone "gates" to Bear Hole. Our town historian writes:
"Around 1870 people became more interested in sightseeing then they had previously been and “resorts” of all kinds began to spring up throughout the northeast. The Summit Houses on Mt. Tom and Mt. Holyoke are two local examples. West Springfield, not to be outdone by its neighbors, had its own resort, too. "
"As was true with most of the early resorts, the one at Bear Hole was short lived, lasting only from 1890 to 1906 when the town took over the property, by eminent domain, for use as a town water supply."
"Around 1890 West Springfield businessman M.L Tourtelotte and his partners built their Bear Hole Family Resort on Paucatuck Brook in a spectacular glen, which included a waterfall and the locally famous, Massasoit Spring, a source of water of unusual purity. In fact, water bottled at the spring was sold from a wagon, which featured paintings, on its sides, of a man wrestling with a bear. The slogan on the side of the wagon read, I’ve got you and you’ve got me."
"Books and newspapers of the time described the resort in glowing terms. It included, they said, a caretaker’s house and sheds where people could stable their teams of horses or, a few years later, park their automobiles, while visiting the resort. They also referred to a pond for fishing and boating and a pavilion with a dance floor built over the brook, which featured a restaurant serving such items as soup, fish, clams, lobster, chicken, and steak. And, of course, there was always the pure water of nearby Massasoit Spring. But, best of all, the resort had a cave in the rocky hillside with a real live bear restricted by a lattice of strong iron bars."
Here is a photo of what remains of the 3-legged bear's home:
Further along on our hike at Bear Hole, downstream from the cascading waterfall, where the water seemed to stop for the the dappled light to play a song on its clear surface, I paused to see this image below. I paused for I was reminded of a day when I was a little boy out walking in the woods with my Dad. We had come upon a similar scene, perfect in its beauty, its heavenliness, a place where, for me, time seemed to stand still. My Dad saw me bending close to the water's surface, as if I was waiting to hear it speak to me. I turned and looked up at my Dad, my heart almost aching from the beauty I beheld. I am, to this day, quite sure the water did speak; for to this day it is in nature where I find God. The woods are where I find a great peace. A stillness. My spirit and soul come to rest and find a wonderful joy, baptized in the beauty of Nature.
Thoreau said "Heaven is under our feet as well as over our heads."
And here below is a wall constructed at Bear Hole Family Resort. Maybe Carl Sandburg was wrong when he wrote: "I CRIED over beautiful things knowing no beautiful thing lasts." For the rocks in this wall each tell a story if only we could hear.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Elizabeth Avedon Postcard. A new friend, Elizabeth Avedon, posted an Ebay listing today of the Elizabeth Avedon Postcard (photo by Richard Avedon). I have that card, I wrote to her. And to prove it, I took this self-portrait.
