Marlene Cohen

Her breast is fit for pearls,

But I was not a "Diver.”

Her brow is fit for thrones –

But I had not a crest.

Her heart is fit for home—

I—a Sparrow—build there

Sweet of twigs and twine

My perennial nest.

Emily Dickinson

When in doubt, wear pearls.

Willoughby Blew

Ever since I was a little boy I have the memory of my mother and grandmother taking out a strong box from a hidden place. They would open it and inside, what was a treasure chest, I would gaze at jewels much like in the stories that my Uncle Tony would tell Wency and me, jewels that had ghosts with broad swords on the side.

My grandmother and mother would be dressing up for a party. In that treasure chest were jewels sent from Paris by my grandfather, Don Tirso de Irureta Goyena when he was wooing María de los Dolores Reyes.

A chest of sort is in our Kits home, but the more valuable of the jewels are at a safety deposit box. There are pearls at home and Rosemary wears them when she can.

The two photographs here of Marlene Cohen and a receptionist at Vancouver Magazine I took in the late70s. The latter (I have no memory of her name or how she communicated her request for me to photograph her with nothing on) may represent the first job I ever had of taking pictures for pay of a woman undraped. I really did not know what I was doing. I did not use lights but shot two rolls of b+w film. One of them was with Kodak B+W Infrared film.

Marlene Cohen wasn’t wearing much except for her pearls. By the look of this photograph I must have used either vaseline on a clear filter or some sort of softening device. It might have been a woman’s nylon stocking stretch out in the front of the lens.     


More Emily Dickinson
  
I would not paint a picture
November left then clambered up
You cannot make remembrance grow
November
the maple wears a gayer scarf 











                                 

 

Rosa sericea ssp. omeiensis f. pteracantha

 Passover

In the Book of Exodus, God helped the Israelites escape from slavery in ancient Egypt by inflicting ten plagues upon the Egyptians before the Pharaoh would release the Israelite slaves. The last of the plagues was the death of the Egyptian first-born. The Israelites were instructed to mark the doorposts of their homes with the blood of a slaughtered spring lamb and, upon seeing this, the spirit of the Lord knew to pass over the first-born in these homes, hence the English name of the holiday.

Wikipedia

I will never understand those who write in social media, “Happy Good Friday”.

One of the fundamental Roman Catholic sacraments, third in line in order of adoption (and even a jazz standard by Charlie Parker) after baptism and first communion is confirmation. This sacrament makes the confirmand (I am one) be responsible for being a defender of the faith. This does not imply that one must pick up a sword. What it means is that the confirmand must study Roman Catholic  doctrine in order to explain it to anybody who might enquire.

Passover is an important feast for those of the Jewish faith but if you understand its origin you will realize that it is not a happy one for would-be Egyptians of old. The dying of their firstborns was to be repeated in the account in the New Testament of King Herod being paranoid about a baby who was to become King of the Jews.

It is my point here not to proselytize or rant of this religion versus another. My purpose is to explain that within the questionable logic behind most religions (consider the Holy Trinity of one God with three distinct persons) is that if one studies them one is surely to become more tolerant of them all. 

My grandmother who was born in the 19^th century and was educated in Spain brought with her all sort of racist and religious views even though she was an avid Roman Catholic church goer. As a little boy I had to contrast her view that the Jews had killed Christ with that of a round-faced Capuchin monk who stopped my friend Mario Hertzberg and me on the street in Buenos Aires to ask us if we went to church. I told him that I did but that my friend didn’t because he was Jewish. The monk with a big smile on his face said, “You both worship the same God.”

That was a lesson I never forgot. To this day I keep my religious beliefs to myself as I consider them private.

But it is difficult for me to forget Brother Edwin Reggio, C.S.C.’s theology class in the late 50s in Austin, in which he told us of Aritstotle’s unmoved mover as one of the first philosophic definitions of god.

In this Good Friday, a silent one more than ever, I find it appropriate to reminisce and delve into my religious and spiritual past to help me bring an understanding and even order to the events that occupy us now to the point of obsession.

Kimberley Klass

Te amo por ceja – Julio Cortázar

Te amo por ceja, por cabello, te debato en corredores

blanquísimos donde se juegan las fuentes de la luz,

te discuto a cada nombre, te arranco con delicadeza de cicatriz,

voy poniéndote en el pelo cenizas de relámpago y cintas

que dormían en la lluvia.

No quiero que tengas una forma, que seas precisamente

lo que viene detrás de tu mano,

porque el agua, considera el agua, y los leones cuando

se disuelven en el azúcar de la fábula,

y los gestos, esa arquitectura de la nada,

encendiendo sus lámparas a mitad del encuentro.

Toda mañana es la pizarra donde te invento y te dibujo,

pronto a borrarte, así no eres, ni tampoco con ese pelo

lacio, esa sonrisa.

Busco tu suma, el borde de la copa donde el vino es

también la luna y el espejo,

busco esa línea que hace temblar a un hombre

en una galería de museo.

Además te quiero, y hace tiempo y frío.


 Más Cortázar

La casa tomada
Circe 
Como ojos que empezaban a abrirse más allá 
Los sillones de mi vida 
Julio Cortázar - una obsesión
El absurdo infinito 
Las líneas de la mano 
Milonga - la Cruz del Sur 
La diosa leontocéfala 
Veredas de Buenos Aires 
Instrucciones para subir una escalera al revés 
Instrucciones para subir una escalera 
Terminan siendo seis 
Estación de la mano 
Tu más profunda piel 
La verdadera cara de los ángeles 
Riesgos para vivir
En un vaso de agua fría o preferentemente tibia 
Orientación de los gatos 
Hidromurías
El beso
Pero el amor esa palabra
A un dios desconocido
Del colorado al amarillo 
Reunión con un círculo rojo 
La protección inútil
el tubo de dentífrico
Tu corazón desconcertado