telling myself, I was impressed, had to be some impression in it
Impressions of Sunrise over Hilton Head, 11/20/2205
Impression I was certain of it. I was just telling myself that, since I was impressed, there had to be some impression in it — and what freedom, what ease of workmanship! A preliminary drawing for a wallpaper pattern is more finished than this seascape.
Louis Leroy’s review of the painting, Impression, Sunrise, was printed in Le Charivari on 25 April 1874.
Claude Monet, Impression, Sunrise (1872)
According to Wikipedia, While the movement and the painting initially garnered controversy, Monet’s Impression, Sunrise gave rise to the name and recognition of the Impressionist movement, arguably exemplifying more than any other work or artist the Impressionist movement as a whole in style, subject, and influence.
Driving to work this morning I could see the sunrise.
I was just telling myself that, since I was impressed, there had to be some impression in it.
without wondering think about the sunrise and what sunrise would bring
Adapted from the line, “He thought that he would lie down and think about nothing. Sometimes he could do this. Sometimes he could think about the stars without wondering about them and the ocean without problems and the sunrise without what it would bring.”
From the book, Islands in the Stream by Ernest Hemingway, (Charles Scribner Sons: New York, 1970 – published posthumously).
sea-born Venus, when rose from out her cradle shell wind out-blows, ’tis blue
Venus in the Morning Sky over the Atlantic Coast – You will have to take it on faith that its there, but it is
That, when I think thereon, my spirit clings And plays about its fancy, till the stings Of human neighbourhood envenom all. Unto what awful power shall I call? To what high fane? — Ah! see her hovering feet, More bluely vein’d, more soft, more whitely sweet Than those of sea-born Venus, when she rose From out her cradle shell. The wind out-blows Her scarf into a fluttering pavilion; ’Tis blue, and over-spangled with a million Of little eyes, as though thou wert to shed, Over the darkest, lushest blue-bell bed,
Except from Endymion: a poetic romance by John Keats, John, 1795-1821 (Taylor and Hessey, 93, Fleet Street: London, 1918).
I cannot drive to work without looking to my left and see Venus bright in the pre dawn sky and not relax.
Since the moment of Creation, Venus has been there as the morning or evening Star.
No one in history, whether they made the history books or not, has not, at some point in their lives, seen Venus in the sky.
Maybe they didn’t know it was Venus but there it was.
My Dad had a way of pointing out Venus whenever he saw it.
Or if we pointed out that bright star, he would correct us and say, “That’s Venus … It’s a planet”.
I do the same thing with my kids and now, my many grand kids.
And when I do, I think of my Dad and I think of the how long people Dads and Grandfathers have been doing this.
A quick look at history shows that not only has Venus been around a long time, the name Venus for Venus goes back a ways in recorded history.
The Greeks had two names for Venus:
Phosphoros (Φωσφόρος, “Light-Bringer”) when seen as the Morning Star.
Hesperos (Ἓσπερος, “Evening”) when seen as the Evening Star.
Eventually, Greek astronomers (like Pythagoras) realized they were the same object.
Later Greek writers used the name Aphrodite for the planet in line with mythology.
The Babylonians called Venus Ishtar, their goddess of love and war—very similar to Aphrodite/Venus.
Venus was extremely important in Babylonian astronomy and astrology.
For Egyptians, Venus was associated with goddess Isis and also sometimes Hathor.
Egyptians noted its dual role in the sky and had separate names for its morning/evening appearances.
In Chinese cosmology, Venus is called “Taibai” (太白), meaning the “Great White” star, it is associated with metal in the Five Elements (Wuxing).
Hard to see in the photo I snapped as I drove over the Cross Island Bridge this morning, but there was Venus.
As C. S. Forester writes in Hornblower and the Hotspur, ” Over there was Venus, shining out in the evening sky. This sea air was stimulating, refreshing, delightful. Surely this was a better world than his drained nervous condition allowed him to believe.”
I see Venus.
I think of my Dad.
I think of my kids and grandkids.
And I think, surely this is a better world than my drained nervous condition allows me to believe.
splish, splash, splosh, slosh, spill end of the morning coffee last sip on the stairs
I had this four cup drip coffee maker in college.
The way it was built, when the coffee was done, the last bit of water in the maker would be blown in out in one big and loud cloud of steam.
‘Coffee’s Ready!’ my roommates would yell when they heard it even though no one else drank coffee.
My roommates could time there day by the sounds it made as I made a pot when I got up, an afternoon pot around lunch time if I was home or later when I got back from class and a third pot after dinner.
And I drank it all.
And maybe bought coffee when I was on campus.
3 or 4 pots of coffee and I still had that feeling of disappoint as I emptied the pot of its last drops and wondered if I should make another pot.
Coffee had to be at the top of my weekly expenses.
At the same time I remember having no problems napping or sleeping at any time (or conversely, staying up all night if I had too).
Now I am down to a pot of coffee in the morning.
It gurgles and gurgles as the timer starts it up before my alarm clock goes off.
Two cups start my day and I pour a third and sip at through the morning.
When I work from home, I work in the upstairs guest bedroom and I bring my cup along and set in front of me on my desk.
At some point I make the switch to ice water in a travel cup and I grab my half filled coffee cup and head downstairs.
Holding my cup I look fondly at the now cool brown liquid and I think of those days of 12 cups of coffee a day.
And I think one more sip.
I raise the cup to my lips and my head steady/
That I am going downstairs doesn’t enter my mind.
I take a step down, I raise my cup and maybe get a sip before the I sloash and splash coffee all over my face, shirt and the steps.
Here’s the point.
I DO THIS ALMOST EVERYDAY!
Why can’t I learn to stop on my way down?
Why can’t I learn to wait until I reach the kitchen?
Will I ever learn?
If I do, will I forget by tomorrow?
Notice my St Jude medallion – Any web developer worth his download speed keeps something handy in reference to the patron saint of lost causes.