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Autumn Leaves 2

Adrian Stokes was a visitor to St Ives, wrote poetry and was analysed by Melanie Klein, herself. Some lovely seasonal paintings here.

The Eclectic Light Company

In the first of these two articles yesterday, I showed a series of paintings of the changing colours and fall of leaves in the autumn/fall. This concludes my selection, starting from after about 1890. It’s time for even more leaf-peeping.

blaupraterlandscape Tina Blau (1845–1916), Prater Gardens (date not known), oil on wood, 25.5 x 32 cm, Private collection. Wikimedia Commons.

The Austrian Post-Impressionist landscape painter Tina Blau painted her favourite park, Vienna’s Prater Gardens, as its trees were just starting to change colour one autumn, probably around 1890.

Claude Monet, The Three Trees, Autumn (1891) W1308, oil on canvas, 92 x 73 cm, Private collection. WikiArt. Claude Monet (1840-1926), The Three Trees, Autumn (1891) W1308, oil on canvas, 92 x 73 cm, Private collection. WikiArt.

Several of Monet’s series of paintings include the colours of autumn – here, the distinctive poplars sweeping alongside the River Epte, a few kilometers from his home at Giverny.

chaseoctober William Merritt Chase (1849–1916), October (c 1893), oil on canvas, 101.6 x 101.6 cm, Private…

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The Trees – Philip Larkin – Analysis

Larkin is doubtless a great poet and a huge influence on successors. I think U.A. Fanthorpe is among these. His politics and attitudes are quite a different matter. There is an underlying sadness in this poem relieved in the final line.

my word in your ear

The Trees

The trees are coming into leaf
Like something almost being said;
The recent buds relax and spread,
Their greenness is a kind of grief.

Is it that they are born again
And we grow old? No, they die too.
Their yearly trick of looking new
Is written down in rings of grain.

Yet still the unresting castles thresh
In full grown thickness every May.
Last year is dead, they seem to say,
Begin afresh, afresh, afresh.

Philip Larkin (1922 – 1985)

It is spring in Canberra, so these words are very apt. And as it is now Australian spring so May translates to September.

S1 … I do like that second line of the first stanza – like something almost being said – it articulates that almost opening of buds and leaves and gives voice to the season; personifying. The last line of this stanza catches…

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WHEN YOU ARE OLD by W. B YEATS

Yeats, lovely Yeats

shshpoetry

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

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What are unconcious biases and why do they matter for sustainability?

I think these points are very useful especially in relation to current motivation for tackling, for example Climate Change. Prevailing cynicism and manic denial are playing a disturbing role in U.K. politics at present.

AnnJoest

A bias is something, that we believe to be true, but in reality it might not be. These biases can relate to our own perception – how we see ourselves and how we think to see ourselves. They can also relate to how we see the world around us in relation to ourselves and how we think to see it relation to ourselves.

Does our own reflection hold true to what we believe is true? Who we think we are , whether what we enjoy, follow or do holds as good or bad? And if not, would rather believe so?

Biases can be harmful, if they lead us to making false ideas or assumptions about ourselves and others, but also if they support prejudices or stereotypes. Think about not “looking young enough” to be a reporter, or too old to try out something that could bring joy to oneself. –…

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Calma malinconia / Still melancholy

Manuel Chiacchiararelli

“Non è questo un vero giorno d’autunno? Solo la calma malinconia che amo, che fa armonizzare la vita e la natura.”

“Is this not a true autumn day? Just the still melancholy that I love – that makes life and nature harmonise.”

(George Eliot)

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Castle Rampart, Brittany, France

Jacob Whitaker

Castle Rampart, Brittany, France

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Crimson Forest, Hungary

Looks amazing- I wonder whereabouts in Hungary that is.

Nicholas Koch

Crimson Forest, Hungary

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Penwith Poetry West Cornwall (and local history)

In memory of J.M.

A tall donnish schoolmaster enters the gate

only a little late, dismounts

with a certain characteristic style

steering between the other master’s cars

He holds both bars and stomps,

observed by some third form boys, behind

the staffroom, past the prefect’s den

and parks his velociped in the cycle shed.

Allons enfants! We foregather before him

in serried desks- pupils in pupitres.

and listen to his high voice entreating us

to sing a folk song about a peasant soup.

Pacing the long dias by the grand piano

he encouraged us to belt ’em out. Pronunciation

rather than grammar was his choice forte.

We embraced “Auprès de ma blonde

Qu’il fait bon, fait bon, fait bon.“, the

Marseillaise and Sous le pont d’avignon

The lyrics he swiftly chalked above

the staves on the board in the Music Room.

Thinking back, he may have been batered

by the War and tough times along

with the Chinese Inland Mission.

Appearing himself like a cross between Ho Chi Min

and Ezra Pound.

Even then I thought he may not

have fitted in with the other masters

being deemed eccentric he would not have minded

entirely blinded to such bourgeois mores.

“China Reconstructs” tucked under his arm

and head full of ideograms, I wonder

just what I might still learn from him now.

Humphry Davy School - Marnick Builders

https://studycli.org/chinese-characters/types-of-chinese-characters/

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The Palm Tree, E3

Brilliant sketches once again. Interesting and unusual colours used.

Jane Sketching

Here is “The Palm Tree” pub, seen from the south.

“The Palm Tree” 127 Grove Road, Mile End, London E3, 28th September 2021, 10″ x 7″ in Sketchbook 10

I have often puzzled about this pub. I pass it as I’m cycling or running on the Regent’s Canal towpath. It stands alone, in a field of green, strangely isolated. Has it always been like that?

The Palm Tree stands isolated by the Regents Canal.

The answer to that question is no. It was not always isolated. It used to be surrounded by houses.

Its Historic England entry (1427142) tells me that when this pub was built, in 1935, it was surrounded by terraces of houses, Palm Street, Lessada Street and Totty Street, which have since vanished. The entry says: “the pub is the final remnant of a once built-up, industrial part of London, destroyed in the Blitz and in subsequent…

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A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning – John Donne

Interesting – according to Melanie Klein mourning can be creative and reconstructing. Despite Donne’s injunction the poem seems to achieve this in a reconstruction of a sense of self; beginning over again.

my word in your ear

A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning

As virtuous men pass mildly away,
And whisper to their souls to go,
Whilst some of their sad friends do say
The breath goes now, and some say, No:

So let us melt, and make no noise,
No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests move;
'Twere profanation of our joys
To tell the laity our love.

Moving of th' earth brings harms and fears,
Men reckon what it did, and meant;
But trepidation of the spheres,
Though greater far, is innocent.

Dull sublunary lovers' love
(Whose soul is sense) cannot admit
Absence, because it doth remove
Those things which elemented it.

But we by a love so much refined,
That our selves know not what it is,
Inter-assured of the mind,
Care less, eyes, lips, and hands to miss.

Our two souls therefore, which are one, 
Though I must go, endure not yet
A breach, but an expansion,
Like…

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