This sculpture, by Arnaldo Pomodoro, stands in the Vatican Museum gardens. Entitled Sphere Within a Sphere, it is one of several versions that have been installed around the world from Des Moines to Tehran. The metaphor, to me, is that of an egg cracking open to release the life within.
The blue-gray sky you see behind the trees is actually full of storm clouds moving in. The tree was caught for a moment in one of those brilliant shafts of sunlight that sometimes finds its way to earth through a tiny gap in a stormy sky.
Soon the curtain will rise again. I'll be back in a Live in HD theatre seat, but when this curtain went up, I was there in person. Thank you, Jan and John.
Zahide (zah-hee-day) is the wife of my sister's "person of all trades" for her houses in Doganbey, Turkey. When Zahide's daughter was struggling with an English lesson at my sister's kitchen table - write an original sentence and translate it into English - I suggested "My mother has beautiful blue eyes."
April snow, eleven years ago, just back from Turkey to my brother's Chicago home.
I read my mother's copy of Gone With the Wind when I was about 13 and ever after wanted red hair and green eyes. I also wanted to be Catholic (we were fairly virtuous Lutherans), and went about exclaiming, "Oh, Mother of God!," as Scarlett was wont to do, for several weeks afterwards. If I have any religious thoughts concerning this election season, it might be, "Oh, Mother of God! What next?" And then, if fairy tales were really true, this scene over the archway of Our Lady of Perpetual Help in Boston might actually take place. Read more about Oh, Mother of God!
This spring my lilac burst into bloom at last. It is a descendant of Doc's gift to the Together people.
Meanwhile, in the back garden, the wisteria shouted for joy.
On my third trip to New York City, I went to see the opera featuring my favorite tenor. He cancelled. I wanted to walk in Central Park. It was too cold. I did have a wonderful afternoon and evening with an old friend and her husband, but I forgot to take the good camera. So as my doorman was opening the door for the taxi taking me to JFK on my way home, I spotted this beautiful piece of New York. I don't know what it is, but it sure is pretty.
In New York recently, the temperature hit zero degrees Fahrenheit, with 20 below windchills blowing through the canyons. My friends and I, needing a place to go, take our coats off, sit and drink and talk, decided on the Algonquin Hotel. It was the perfect place, with a seat in the window, and the shades of Dorothy Parker, et al. hovering nearby. My Manhattan was just the thing. Read more about Classy Classic