Screened porch painter's fantasy

Whitney

"I know that woman," I thought approaching the large painting of people on a screened porch. The woman looking in from outside on the far right was the lady I'd met before, but where?

Sheldon

Hirshhorn

The Woolly Mammoth and I were celebrating Black Friday with ever so many New Yorkers. in the "Human Interest: Portraits from the Whitney's Collection" exhibit. The last time we'd seen the woman was at the Hirshhorn in D.C., but I knew her from way back at the Sheldon Art Museum in Lincoln where she was acquired in 1962.

All that time it never occurred to me the artist Fairfield Porter might be a man. The Sheldon's painting seemed a descendant of Mary Cassatt to me with my inaccurate assumption. Various online sources tonight explain Fairfield was the brother of photographer Eliot Porter. The Woolly Mammoth and I shared an amazing Eliot Porter exhibit at the Amon Carter. The sources cite Vuillard and Bonnard as influences on Fairfield Porter, two of my favorites. I also see some Diebenkorn. Life is good. Art is fine. I'm so grateful to have a son who likes to visit art museums with his mom. 

AND how cool would it be to paint family portraits on a screened porch after a breakfast of hashed browns, scrambled eggs, polish sausage, and strong coffee in the chilly morning?

© 2013-2016 Nancy L. Ruder

Potsherds, POTUS, and hash browns

"Niggling" has nothing to do with eels, That's the good news. Something has been niggling in my brain. It's a relief to know that eels, one of the few creatures that completely creep me out, are not involved. Can you imagine if you went to your precinct polling place at seven a.m. on November eighth  and it was full of eels?! Can this nightmare of a presidential campaign get any creepier?

"Sniggling" is a crossword puzzle answer for the clue "catching eels by hand." Banish that visual! Don't trap me in that weir! We are here to talk about politics, potshards, and hash brown potatoes. We are here to talk about casting ballots, not about smashing crockery against the kitchen walls.

In Mrs. Williams' Graeco-Roman history class we learned the backstory of ostracism. Yesterday's New Yorker Borowitz Report satire blog post said President Obama had signed an executive order requiring the loser of the presidential election to leave the country November ninth so healing could begin.  Niggle...niggle...

The ancient Athenians voted to banish persons deemed threats to their liberties, their democracy, their government. Voters scratched the names of those dangerous persons on bits of broken clay pots (reduce, reuse, recycle, remove!) and whoever received a significant pile of potsherds had to hit the road, Jack, for ten years.

Bits of broken pottery are called potshards or potsherds by archaeologists, and etymologically known as ostracons for the ancient Athenians. Being ostracized in Athens was more extreme than sitting alone in the dismal January noon junior high cafeteria while the popular kids were hurling canned peas at the frosty windows with spoon catapults. Ostracism was an ancient Athenian badge of popularity, persuasion, and power while being shown to the EXIT. That's why the junior high pea-catapulters gloated all the way to the principal's office!