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Sunday, July 25, 2021

retrying essay stuff

 how nice seeing faces which appeal! although Boyce (my husband, for anyone who MIGHT be reading this and not know, and also for anyone who does) says it doesn't matter if the person is competent -- as in dentists and chefs and so on-- to me it always matters, 

I am looking at an In Memoriam for Mary Beth Edelson, a feminist artist I am reaidng about in the news of Women in the Arts  and greatl like her face.  I will take photo of the piece and see if I can attach it with some skill I hope to acquire!

whoops, couldn't do it, well anyway, she did a Last Supper with all women, and I found that very impressive


 an effort sending blogs, but with hilary helping I CAN DO IT!

Friday, July 23, 2021

meeting friends

 and all those friends i meet and try to keep up with i could also send them this if I knew how , do you just do it with email and hope some readers of some books me or someone else wrote will join as readers!

will phone my sister who is a young 96 and then go.out and meet a second cousin of boyce's who travers a lot and loves it and most recently at the District (where,when they have it, they have the best union sous ever)

ok now to thinking about talk to give in France where kindly they pay my way and hôtel and all!

 So today, which seems to be the 31, e.g. halloween, I zoomed to visit the crypt of the St. John the Divine Cathedral, to which I actually belong, and have visited for years -- first, with my friend Patrick Cullen, to see and hear Philippe Petit climbing a wire far above the main altar to the ceiling of the cathedral, as I think I remember, to the music of Bach's Art of the Fugue, which felt wonderfully appropriate. We marveled at the rubato pauses he made on his way up, and then today heard, in a message before we plunged into the crypt,  about his traversing the road on a wire to give a crown to Dean Morton: the safest way to cross over, and we all agreed.

And now, anxiously (yes, the Age of Anxiety, the United States of Anxiety indeed), as we peruse the paper, in between what we are doing: my husband on the hardest challenge of the mathematical games he plays and myself trying to get in shape the last two essays on my selected essays for a book yet again with Reaktion Books: From Symbolism to Surrealism... I find in the always grand New York Times for Sunday November 1(MB 9) a piece on "The Console", run by Brandon Woolf,  a professor at NYU who sits at a small table in Brooklyn, writing letters on a 1940's vintage portable Royal typewriter. The piece,  by Deborah L.  Jacobs, is called "Taking Time to Write to People Who Feel Blue", and there he is, a professor and performance artist, doing just what to me seems just right, right now He is wearing a navy blue T.-shirt emblazoned with the Postal Service Logo, to which no one objects. He teaches two courses on Zoom and directs the Program in Dramatic Literature for undergraduates. I love it. 

I teach on zoom also, of course, in my mini-seminar which is really a Reading Group at the commons of the Graduate School of CUNY, where I have been for a remarkably long time, happily. We were reading John Berger and Thomas Bernhard and Wittgenstein and then Bruce Chatwin, and all of us would bring in whatever we felt like discussing --- actually, I am reading Hope Mirrlees, the partner of the great Jane Harrison at Cambridge, for her astounding 1920 poem about Paris, and trying to share it. 

Big question, as always: how do we share and what and for how long can you. hold the participants' interest on a zoom: I. think about an hour and half is right....And recently, I have been following Parker Ramsay, who has had a two night a week class on Bach and the way in which he moved from early to the Art of the Fugue and the Musical Offering (my favorites from always, although Glenn Gould and the Goldbergs impassioned me from the start), and I shall follow his class on music and Five Great writers (Nietsche and Thomas Mann, etc.) in January.

That is looking forward and tonight I am thinking a bit backwardly,  having seen Obama speaking of Biden and Harris and wishing we had such a president again... All my crossable fingers and eyes are crossed, hoping..

what is next?

 how do you reconnect with former readers of a blog you used to write???????

starting over

 today is july 23, 2021, and i haven't written a blog for AGES, since I never seem to have time to write anything other than whatever pièce I. am writing! I know it is about MAKING time, and for years and years I have said to students and friends this boring by now répétition:


at my now advanced âge, and who remembres to read blogs? my daughter is participation right now in a panel about blogs , how ironic can you get?

so if anyone rends this, hello or hello again, I cannot seem to keep upbut now, having given up teaching and running conversation groups after (what what?) 55 years, i will write blogs again! 

warmly to anyone reading this 

mary ann caws

Wednesday, October 7, 2020

What we can do NOW?

 So today, October 6, was an odd day, like all these other days these days... I don't expect much of anyone to read this blog, because I put it aside, given there are So MAny Other Things do do and to Zoom into, and I get swept away and on.

So these days I am, and in the last few minutes,  trying to finish talking about John Berger's'Shape of a Pocket, and his About Looking,  yes, maybe, but in the meantime I have to get back to him and to his generosity, and I really never loved Dali....

My husband, when he says "What a Life!" he must be quoting, and my rabid enjoyment of our supper: hamburger and spinach and (what what?) mint curry because about 2 years when I had 23 minutes before meeting a friend at the Turkish Kitchen, I ventured into an Indian grocery and succumbed to all sorts of curries...

And we are about to see the DEBATE, this one, and yesterday I loved getting together with the group we call Poets Together (thanks to Jojo Carlin, DR. Carlin), and we spoke about the John Berger's books and Wittgenstein's Zettel,, and Thomas Bernhard's The Loser, about Glenn Gould and another friend, resembling, so says the introduction  Wittgenstein... All seems to merge, and each things we read leads to any other thing... Next time I want to introduce Bruce Chatwin's Song Lines to give us a bit of music...