LIVING WITH ART BLOG

“Pathetic Fallacy” is a literary device that assigns human emotions to inanimate objects of nature. Writers use it to provide atmosphere and to enhance or reflect moods, much as musical and sound scores are used in films and stage performances. A couple of weeks ago, I mentioned a book I was reading by David Morrell entitled “The Fine Art of Murder.” The last couple of days I have been reading the last book in this trilogy. These novels feature Thomas DeQuincey and his daughter, Emily, as characters. Set in Victorian England, “The Fine Art of Murder,” “Inspector of the Dead,” and “Ruler of the Night.”are filled with pathetic fallacy. In fact, the unrelenting fog, cold, and smutty, smoke-filled air all compete to become yet other characters. While murders are being committed, investigated and solved, the weather perversely adapts to each situation by making each criminal action more ominous and horrendous. Experiencing the dramatic interplay and unusual plot line of these novels have provided me with some much needed psychological relief...

The headline in Wednesday’s Oklahoman got my attention, “Chesapeake Looks to Future.” The article presented a brief review of the origin and history of Chesapeake Energy, founded in the 1980’s by two young men, Aubrey McClendon and Tom Ward. The article mentioned that Chesapeake became a nationally recognized energy company and was a primary influence on the future growth and development of Oklahoma City. The complexity and diversity of Chesapeake’s business dealings were also covered, as well as the untimely death of Aubrey and the subsequent decline of the company. Through what appears to be thoughtful stewardship of the current president and administrative team, it was reported that the company has survived bankruptcy and subsequent restructuring, able to retain several core assets, and is moving forward as a much different company.

The most important fact I can remember learning in a sociology class decades ago was that the act of becoming “change skilled” is critical to survival. The study of history and evolution certainly reinforces that thought. Horrible things have happened to civilizations since the beginning of time. But people got through them usually with the support, help, and love of other people. During the last twelve months we have been called upon to rise to yet another survival challenge. This time it’s somewhat different because to be safe we must do it without the physical comfort of others and without participating in our usual supportive activities. Also, because we live in the age of technology we are bombarded with polarizing statistics, images, and commentaries 24/7. There doesn’t seem to be a respite from bad news. The stress is cumulative.

It was in 1979 that I had my first encounter with an art calendar. At that time Ben Pickard lived in Crown Heights. His gallery was in the basement of his home. I lived close by and would visit him at least once a month, enthralled by the stories he would tell me about his stable of artists and art. So naturally, I turned to him to help me find art to put in my office at the University of Oklahoma, where I had gotten my first job after receiving my Ph.D. Of course, Ben had several paintings and prints I loved, but could not begin to afford. Then he pulled out this large calendar of signed prints of contemporary artists. It was wonderful!...

If there is anyone out there who doubts the value of the arts in Education, they only had to experience Amanda Gorman, the youngest inaugural poet in U.S. history, read her poem “The Hill We Climb,” at the Inauguration of Joe Biden. Amanda walked to the podium dressed in bright yellow jacket with a red headband, the embodiment of purpose, energy, and creativity. When she began speaking, we learned how a creative, brilliant, and well-educated mind thinks and how it communicates. Amanda instantly became a media darling. One headline announced, “She stole the show.” She did indeed steal the show...

Today I received a handwritten note from a friend that said: “Happiness is 2020 in a rearview mirror.” While that may not be entirely true, I think most of us certainly breathed a sigh of relief as we welcomed 2021 with gratitude for our individual survival...

As I look around the Gallery this Christmas season, I am struck by all of the different shapes of art that are on display. Shape along with line, texture, form, space, color and value are the ways that artists communicate. In addition to being an aesthetic concept, shape can also be an identifying concept. For example, Christmas can be identified by shape(s). The shape of a Christmas Tree, a Wreath, a Candy Cane, a rotund Santa, an antlered Reindeer, or an Angel with a halo all speak to us in profound ways. 

The other day I got a text from Amanda, the Director of the Paseo Arts Association, reminding me that I had not yet sent my favorite recipes to be published in the upcoming Paseo Arts Cookbook. Initially, when invited to participate, I explained to her that I don’t cook very often anymore as all of my favorite meals can be found at Picasso’s, Paseo Grill, Frida’s, Soup Soup, Legends, the Red Rooster, The Prairie Gypsies, Cheevers and What’s Cooking. My mother had been an excellent cook and I promised to look through a box of her recipes and select a few for consideration. That evening I came home and began my search. “The Box” is stored in a special cabinet along with a stash of other memorabilia. While looking through the cabinet I found a handwritten note that my late husband, John, gave me for our 20th year wedding anniversary that brought tears to my eyes. There were also other special cards, photographs and newspaper clippings that I have been saving for years. When I finally opened “The Box,” I found not only my beloved mother's recipes, but a life-time of food related memories... just in time for Thanksgiving...