Summer and Freedom -- Day 3/109

Walk: Union Square, Sundance Kabuki (SF International Film Festival: Freedom Summer)*
Distance: 4 miles

We're having what we San Franciscans think might be what is known as summer.  Anyway, Ciwt deck and the rest of the city is hot and balmy, women are walking around in flowered dresses, bare legs and sandals, restaurant tables have been pulled to the sidewalks, and people are sitting at them sipping cool drinks, the whole pace of things is noticeably (a bit) slower/less intense/more free*. The benefits of freedom on display - which leads to a small seque into gratitude for that priceless condition.

*Whenever Ciwt does a gratitude list or a list of most important values, freedom is on them, often at the head.  This being said today after seeing a documentary on the Freedom Riders during the Freedom Summer of 1964.  My contemporaries know what I'm talking about, and we all hold that time in our hearts, minds, psyches in personal ways. So, enough said - except the movie is extremely informative.  You walk away with a great deal of information on many levels and from many points of view that is completely new (or was to Ciwt who thought she was pretty first hand knowledgeable about that deeply affecting time).

Meanwhile, we're surviving this summer experience just fine:
   Thank you for asking.

Here Come the Roses --- Day 3/108

Walk: Fillmore Street, Mindful Body, Fillmore Street
Distance: 3 miles and teach yoga class

Roses by George Eliot

You love the roses - so do I. I wish
The sky would rain down roses, as they rain
From off the shaken bush. Why will it not?
Then all the valley would be pink and white
And soft to tread on. They would fall as light
As feathers, smelling sweet; and it would be
Like sleeping and like waking, all at once!

The only way to go --- Day 3/107

Walk: Trader Joe's, UPS, Sundance Kabuki (SF International Film Festival: The Reconstruction)
          Benefit
Distance: 4+ miles and a couple of small home yoga practices

                                   The Reconstruction

By the seat of your pants...Ie, in a comfortable movie chair.  Today it was Patagonia, yesterday Bhutan and the day before the Australian Outback. With more countries ahead.

I've never had the time and/or inclination to follow the San Francisco International Film Festival so also have never understood its appeal.  That is now corrected.  I really feel richly informed about each country represented in their entry as well as the human condition there and universally.  This in a relaxed way, unconcerned about language, logistics, and that unnerving (for Ciwt) big metal bird.

Today was the Argentinian oil fields and then down further south to Patagonia, technically to Ushuaia, the world's southernmost city. The movie was The Reconstruction which I doubt will make our theaters/find a distributor.  Maybe a bit too 'small' but Gorgeous widescreen cinematography of the hugely vast barren terrain that echoes the desolate unforgiving nature of the main character's heart.  He's played by Diego Peretti, an actor, screenwriter and former psychiatrist and it is too bad his performance will probably be missed by those not attending the festivals screening The Reconstruction.  He has won several Best Actor awards for his performance at the festivals.  Ciwt will be on the lookout for his name in the future.

           
Diego Peretti as himself             Diego Peretti (unnamed?) character in The Reconstruction

Used Clothes/New Life --- Day 3/106

Walk: Sundance Kabuki (SF International Film Festival)
Distance: 2 miles and home yoga practice                            

                   HAPPINESS

On her way to today's International Film Festival movie, Ciwt got encouragement for her closet caper donations when she saw 'her' Prana jacket walk by in the other direction.  The girl looked cute in her red jeans and clearly was enjoying the jacket (which is grey).  She's small, and I'm sure was amazed the jacket fit her so well.  Only Ciwt knows it is because she had it tapered before giving it up to see if that would help.

The concept of old clothes/hand me downs continued on her mind as she watched Happiness, a France/Finland entry and a very spare, eloquent, thought-provoking film. Filmed in Bhutan, it concerns the moment of arrival of modernization (in the form of electricity, TV and internet) to a rural village. A quasi-documentary, the movie truly feels like a trip to Bhutan - probably better really because it immerses the viewer in the daily, ancient culture.  The scenery is spectacular but, for people who are used to stimulation and modernity (ie, the audience), the viewer begins almost immediately to champ at the bit at the stultifying Buddhist rituals, the homespun, hardworking, fundamental way of life. The main character is an 8 year old boy, and the juxtaposition between his universally youthful energies and the prescribed, self-contained, peace-insistent Bhutanese life, is obvious and palpable.  You want him to be able to enjoy/fulfill his utterly inexperienced exuberance, but with the arrival of television (and shows like wrestling) and the internet, you also worry what will be released.

Throughout the film there were glimpses of used Western clothing.  Branded sneakers, hiking boots, tee shirts, parkas, tents were worn and used by all the Bhutanese.  No comment or explanation but Ciwt remembered a friend going to Bhutan about eight years ago and purposely taking extra clothes and shoes as well as planning to leave behind most of what he would wear after the expedition.  I guess that's how the Bhutanese got these items, but Ciwt was surprised at the plethora of them.  Bhutan only opened to highly restricted and very expensive tourism in 1974, but clearly since then, there has been a dramatic increase in tourists as well as the items of used clothing left behind.

Bluff Called -- Day 3/105

Walk: Sundance Kabuki (Tracks at SF Film Festival)
Distance: 2 miles and home yoga

Being a walker, Ciwt has fantasized from time to time in her life about a walk (a very long) walk across parts of the U.S..  But she has never even fantasized about a 1,700 mile solo  (with 4 camels and her dog) walk across Australia conceived and actually taken by Robyn Davidson in 1977. (She was sponsored by National Geographic Magazine who did a feature story on her for those of you who might recall).

Her trek/odyssey has been made into a superior movie titled Tracks.  A must see for all who value feats in nature, solitude, animals, human psychology and spirit. Like a true long trek, it has moments of sheer beauty as well as stretches of boredom where the job is one foot in front of the other. And also like that long walk that calls to you in some indefinite way, there is no clear sense of why Ms. Davidson, at age 26, set out on this personal journey.  (Thirty years later she still is not clear; just that many young people - especially in the 60's and 70's - did these sorts of things).

Ciwt just saw it at the SF Film Festival and learned that it has distribution, so it may take a while to get to you.  When it does, and it calls to you, I'd say make tracks to the theater.

Here's the link with a write up and a trailer:
http://www.sffs.org/festival-home/attend/film-guide/tracks#.U1xW6fldWSo

The Other One --- Day 3/104

Walk: The Mindful Body
Distance: 10 blocks, take yoga class, small home practice
                                                            

•   Weir Here: Dead Co-Founder Rocks Tribeca Film Fest

There's a new (first and probably only) movie out about Bob Weir who, along with Jerry Garcia founded The Grateful Dead. CIWT readers know Ciwt missed the Dead days but is a fan of Furthur founded by Bob and another original Grateful Dead member, Phil Lesh.*  So has enjoyed reading about the movie which premiered at the Tribeca Film Festival on April 23 with Bob (actually called Bobby by virtually everyone) in attendance.

She particularly liked learning the following:

The Dead sometimes had mixed feelings about Deadheads.In the film, Weir expresses ambivalence about the fans who followed the band around: “If it rings those lofty bells for them, what’s wrong with that?” he says. “At the same time, if it takes your life down, that’s another story…if you’re a kid and you want to spend a summer on the road, that’s one thing. If you’re selling drugs, I have limited sympathy.” For (Director Mike) Fleiss, who attended over 200 shows himself, those comments came as a revelation. “There was an assumption that if you had seen 250 or 300 shows and never missed a show in three years, that was a badge of honor,” he says. “But the band saw that as a slippery slope and not necessarily a good thing. Bob talked about that. That was fascinating to me.”

Read more: http://www.rollingstone.com/movies/news/8-things-we-learned-from-the-tribeca-film-festivals-bob-weir-doc-20140423#ixzz2zwUF1DnR 
Follow us: @rollingstone on Twitter | RollingStone on Facebook


But (Director Mike) Fleiss said the challenge of getting the legendary Weir to talk about his achievement was the hardest part of making the documentary. “He doesn’t like to talk about himself. He doesn’t trust pride and thinks it’s illegitimate. He’s the most humble rock superstar that has ever lived and will ever live.” ....*

It was in these early days of the Grateful Dead that Weir says he struggled to figure out his role in the band. “Usually, rhythm guitar was played by a guy who was singing who didn’t have time to play lead at the same time, so it was pretty simple stuff,” he says. Out of his desire to complicate the role came the unpredictable, improvised riffs in performances that became a hallmark of Grateful Dead concerts. “Every night, every song. I tried not to repeat myself. I had to keep improvising. It kept my mind real busy. Playing on stage was practicing and learning, as well as performing. You can always bring a sense of adventure. You can always make it more complicated, so that’s what I did.”....*

“Looking back, I guess I’ve lived an unusual life,” Weir says in the film.*

* http://www.thedailybeast.com/articles/2014/04/25/bob-weir-on-drugged-out-deadheads-and-living-in-jerry-garcia-s-shadow.html


The movie does not seem to be a probing biographical documentary. (He's a nice, extremely talented guitarist and man; what's to probe anyway?)  According to celebstoner.com, it "hails Weir as a psychedelic rock pioneer who deserves more respect and appreciation from those outside the Deadhead world (they, of course, adore Weir and affectionately call him 'Bobby')."

Ciwt too!  And she'll be in her seat when the film comes to San Francisco.

 The Other One: The Long, Strange Trip of Bob Weir.



For more on Ciwt and Furthur, see days:  6, 95, 96, 165, 172, 173, 283, 287, 327, 2/11, 2/35, 2/203

Another Word for Wind --- Day 3/103

Walk: Corte Madera
Distance: 1 mile and small home yoga



ALLERGIES!!!!

They Call the Wind Maria (and other things...) Day 3/102

Walk: St. Francis Yacht Club (later)
Distance: From parking lot and home yoga

Ciwt is no fan of the wind - particularly when it is off the ocean and icy (WNW as the pros might have it).  She loves to walk and hike (of course) and once rented a cute, sunny apartment in the beautiful Point Reyes area.  Her thought was to take gorgeous, long, daily hikes, commune with nature, that sort of thing.  This was before she learned first hand about the powerful, nearly incessant wind in that part of the world. On one hike out to Tomales Point, she was literally blown over. 

Another planned hike to the Point Reyes Lighthouse 

 didn't happen because she arrived to find the steep steps down to it were roped off due to winds.  (They do that when winds reach 40 mph; not an uncommon occurrence). On and on it went in this vein until Ciwt began to dread the idea of a hike and finally gave up her place.

Now she's back with the others in San Francisco who attempt to keep up appearances in our City winds. 

Dot-Dot- Dash, This Just In --- Day 3/101

Walk; Laurel Village, Mindful Body 
Distance: 2 miles and teach yoga class

Samuel F.B. Morse, Gallery of the Louvre, 1831-33,  6' x 9', oil on canvas

Were it not for this painting, there might not have been a telegraph or a Morse Code.  It was the masterpiece of Samuel F.B. Morse painted at the Louvre where he selected his favorite representatives of European painting, copied them in miniature and 'rehung' them in this personal gallery at the Louvre.  His miniature copies are exquisite, and difficult to achieve.  Technically he had a rolling scaffold built to place himself at the height of some of the paintings and became something of a famous spectacle at the Louvre for this apparatus.  (If you are curious about the titles/artists of the works he chose, go to http://faculty.washington.edu/dillon/Morse_Gallery/ .  It's fun and interesting).

His intention was to display the painting in the United States where Americans would come in droves and pay an admission fee to take their own tour of his Louvre and see for themselves the wonders of European art (like these modern day visitors).   When
the exhibition of the painting was complete and crowds had dispersed, he planned to sell the painting to his friend, James Fennimore Cooper. (Morse actually included Cooper with his wife and daughter on the left of the painting as well as painting himself in the center).

But very few came to Morse's 'field of dreams,' and Cooper fell on financial hard times, so Morse sold the painting for a virtual pittance and turned his attentions to an idea which had begun to intrigue him while he was in Paris. That idea was the telegraph. Abandoning painting, he perfected the world changing device, invented a code for it and then went back to France to secure a French patent.  While there he met Louis Daguerre, who had invented photography - or the daguerreotype as it was then known.  And with Daguerre's permission, he brought photography back to the United States.

Such perhaps is the life of the true artist, inventor and visionary,  dot-dot-dot

Eugene Boudin, The Real Deal (not the bread) --- Day 3/100

Walk: JCCSF, Goodwill, Union Square
Distance: 2.8 miles and take yoga class

Several of the Legion's Impressionist shows have had early rooms filled with paintings by Eugene Boudin (Fr. 1824-1898)  but no particular signage.  Ciwt became curious and studied a bit on Boudin to learn that he was France's premiere painter of the sea in the years just before Impressionism.  He was also the first to work entirely outdoors (en plein air) and actually mentored the younger Monet in this method of painting. They were great friends, painting companions, and throughout his life Monet spoke of his appreciation for the effects Boudin had on his art.

Boudin was not/did not consider himself an Impressionist although he showed his work at the first Salon.  But looking at his brushstrokes you can see freedom, looseness, the essential elements of Impressionism.  You also though see a very completed painting.  Even though Boudin painted outdoors and in the moment, he believed each art work needed to be a complete and elegant product.  The impression of sketchiness that characterized many of the Impressionist paintings was antithetical to Boudin's aesthetic.

Boudin was first and foremost authentic.  His father had been a seaman as had he himself (with both eventually retiring from the sea to work as framers).  He knew the life of the sea.  He also knew and valued fashion, how people dressed and was an observer of behavior and mannerisms, particularly of the new French leisure class who traveled by the equally new railroad to beaches throughout France.  Although we don't see the faces of most of his subjects, their costume is absolutely authentic and their body language is utterly believable.


Eugene Boudin, Beach at Trouville, 1864/65, oil on board


Eugène Boudin, Scène de plage, Trouville, 1869, oil on canvas, 29x47cm 

  
Trouville, Beach Scene, 1869                             The Beach at Villerville, 1864, o/c


Boudin is known especially for his skies.  He owned them.  No excessive romanticism, just perfect capturing.




 
Berck, The Departure of the Boats

   
Le Havre, Sunset at Low Tide, 1884, o/c                  Fishing Boat, pastel




Ciwt personally likes how the seaman in him is always aware of the direction of the wind.  And the way he captured it with fluttering flags.


Sailing Boats, @ 1869, oil on canvas


Sailing Ships at Deauville, 1895/96, oil on canvas

Ukrainian Easter Eggs --- Day 3/99

Walk: Round and round, up and down ladders and steps (Deep storage clearing)
Distance: Psychic, maybe a small home yoga practice



For several months before Easter a woman of Eastern European origin offers her Ukrainian Easter eggs at one of our local Farmers Markets.  (Or used to; I didn't see her this year).  I cannot even imagine how much time, patience and work she puts into creating her elaborate, intricate - and charming! - designs on the tiny, hollowed out, fragile surfaces.

The decorated eggs come from a tradition thousands of years old.  It began in the Ukraine but the art form has branched out into (mainly Eastern European) countries where different techniques have evolved.

One technique is Pysanky, a wax-resistant method better known to those of us from the 60's as batik. A tool called a kitska is used to apply the wax to the shell's surface before it is submerged in a dye.  This process is repeated many times for extraordinarily ornate designs. 

Krapanky (really) is similar to pysanky but decorated with dots.

Malyovanky eggs get painted with watercolor or oil paints often dyed before being painted to achieve a deeper background color.  

Whatever the technique, Ciwt finds them utterly charming and wishes the woman who went to all this effort and took all this care a Happy Easter.

Name, Please --- Day 3/98

Walk: Mindful Body 
Distance: 1.5 miles and take yoga class




              Pierre Bonnard, Red Plums, 1892, oil on canvas


The title of this wonderful, small painting now hanging at the Legion's Intimate Impressionism show brings Ciwt to thoughts about how works of art are titled.  Immediately upon seeing the painting, the person next to her at the show remarked "Those plums are blue." "Some of the nasturtiums are red, but those plums are blue."  And he was right.

So, why red plums?  The skin of some red plums does get bluish, but the plum meat is visible oozing a bit from the bottom left plum - and it isn't red.  Impressionists played with color, and Bonnard consistently worked with enhanced colors.  Perhaps he playfully designated the plums red. Bonnard was no stranger to playfulness, and prolifically produced fabric and furniture designs, puppets for puppet shows, painted screens, stage sets and illustrated books.

Or maybe some dealer titled the painting. Many if not most works of art are untitled by the artist. This even includes Leonardo da Vinci's Mona Lisa which received its title 31 years after the artist's death. This happened when the Renaissance art historian, Giorgio Vasari, wrote in his 1550 biography of Leonardo, "Leonardo undertook to paint, for Francesco del Giocondo, the portrait of Mona Lisa, his wife."

Sometimes artists give works preposterous, obscure, detracting, 'unsalable' titles which are later changed by dealers or owners of the work.

But often, the artist just calls it as he/she sees the subject. If this is the case,  Bonnard's plums really were red ones.

Only 20% --- Day 3/97

Walk: Trader Joe's
Distance:  1 mile and teach yoga class

Unlike 'normal' women, Ciwt is not so good at picking out shoes.  But as the final touch of her spring closet caper she thought she'd try again.  And, oh boy, was she ever encouraged along the way.

Her shoe search day began on line checking out a pair she had seen a couple of days before downtown.  There they were -  at 75% off!  Sold!

Then she went to an actual department store and saw a pair she liked before turning them over to see the whopping price. The saleswoman came up while she was gaping at the number and said the store was out of the shoe in Ciwt's hand, but she would check in their computer to see if they were available in any other store.  Sure enough, 75% off again! Sold again!!  Even the saleswoman was shocked at the impossibly low price, and as Ciwt walked away from the counter, she was busy ordering a pair for herself.  (They are still listed at full price at the store and on all the on line sites that carry the brand, so we will see what actually arrives in the free shipment).

Concluding her shoe search day, Ciwt walked through Macy's on the way to her car.  There she spotted a (to her) cute pair.  The display shoe fit so she asked a salesman for the full pair.  He returned to report apologetically the display pair was the last one in stock.  Sheepishly he said, 'So they would be 20% off if you want them."  Only 20%! - but sold anyway.


Perfect for yoga, n'est pas?

A Literary Magician Passes --- Day 3/96

Walk: Corte Madera shoe search
Distance: 6 blocks and lots of personal closet try-ons

GABRIEL GARCÍA MÁRQUEZ | 1927-2014

Exuberant Master of Magic Realism

Time to re-read (and finish) 100 Years of Solitude.  Ciwt remembers stunning sentences that made her cry just for the pure beauty of them.  (Even if she didn't understand exactly what had transpired in them as they - one sentence - could cover several generations and multiple characters). Such lyrical writing - deeply human and soaringly spiritual all at once.  

Un Jour Francais --- Day 3/95

Walk: Legion of Honor (Intimate Impressionism),  Cafe Claude
Distance: 1 mile


French Art, French Food, Ciwt est Fatique.  A Demain....

Treasure House --- Day 3/94

Walk: Union Square, Mindful Body
Distance: 2 miles and teach yoga class

                                                            Nicholas Roerich, Himalayas, 1933, w/c


A student friend is just back in class from a trek high in the Nepal Himalayas.  At tea after class his recounting of the excursion put Ciwt in mind of the Russian artist-philosopher-mystic-anthopologist--archaeologist-artist Nicholas Roerich (1874-1947).  Roerich considered the Himalayas a symbol of humanity's hunger for transcendence through beauty and knowledge and called the range the 'Treasure House of the Spirit.'

Yoga Toes --- Day 3/93

Walk: Food, Inc., Mindful Body
Distance: 2 miles and take yoga class

Baring Vivian --- Day 3/92

Walk: Clay Theater (Finding Vivian Maier), Trader Joe's
Distance: 3 miles

Ciwt just returned from seeing a documentary about Vivian Maier, an exquisitely talented street photographer whose work was not found until after her death.  Hers was a perfect melding of eye, heart, soul, equipment.  And I might add interesting, photogenic times (basically the 50's and 60's in Chicago).  

It is a service to anyone who likes - or might come to like - photography to bring her images to the world.  One critic describes her work well:  Maier’s images are truly stunning—vivid documents of the working class that are off-the-cuff yet rigorously composed, always capturing that enigmatic bit of her subject’s soul that leaves you in spine-tingled awe. (Even her self-portraits have the feel of someone who knows the perfect moment to click the shutter.)

In this way the movie, Finding Vivian Maier is to be lauded.  It is also thought-provoking, interesting psychologically and historically among other areas.  But to Ciwt there are also disturbing questions:  the invasion of her life time of carefully guarded privacy not the least of them.

This seems to have been done in service of a (greedy) end run around the traditional art establishment.  Art that has exposure, a history is more valuable.  If it has been in museums, owned by famous people, included in art books, people and museums pay more for it.  Museums especially have to be sure they are investing their funds in established places.  A woman who died without anyone knowing anything about her or her photography, whose work was only found blindly by accident by someone bidding on unopened boxes certainly does not have that exposure. 

Except now that the person who bought those boxes has made a movie about her.  He and the gallery owners who are now selling her work and the collectors who have bought her work stand to gain enormous amounts. There are literally thousands and thousands (10,000+) of photographs, she has no heirs, etc.  

Yes, but her work truly is superior - on every level. Yes, the movie story is quite well told. Yes, but Vivian Maier was so consummately, deeply guarded and private that she insisted her door be padlocked wherever she worked as a nanny. Now - ultimately for commercial/monetary purposes - she is completely exposed.  Is this right? ethical? Ciwt is asking herself.

If readers don't go to the movie, it is worth a trip on line to Vivian Maier image sites. They are powerful, tender, soulful, beautifully composed and more.

  

  

Another Guest Contributor --- Day 3/91

Walk: Mindful Body
Distance: 10 blocks and take yoga class

Another quote that recently arrived in Ciwt's inbox is from A.A. Milne:

“Promise me you’ll always remember: You’re braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think”.  From Christopher Robin to  Winnie the Pooh.



This is particularly dear to Ciwt because her nickname growing up was...Pooh.

Moon Language -- Day 3/90

Walk: Ft. Mason/Friends of the Library Donation, Presdio P.O. (taxes), Mindful Body, UPS
Distance: 3 miles and take yoga class

Another (see 3/82) poem Ciwt was sent recently is this one.

With that Moon Language

Admit something:

Everyone you see, you say to them,

“Love me.”

 Of course you do not do this out loud;

Otherwise,

Someone would call the cops.

Still though, think about this,

This great pull in us

To connect.

Why not become the one

Who lives with a full moon in each eye

That is always saying,

With that sweet moon

Language,

What every other eye in this world

Is dying to

Hear?

~Hafiz  

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hafez

Stumped Magician --- Day 3/89

Walk: No
Distance: A few blocks




Can't get it out today.