I decided to take two shots of this flower, one with a Leica called Monochrome *above) and one with a regular mirrorless window. See what you think.
29 February
Two Shades Of Flower.. Color, Black And White
by Jon Katz
Bedlam Farm Blog Journal by Jon Katz
29 February
I’d Call It A Photo. Mea Culpa. Two Steps Backward, Into The Label Disease. I Apologize. I’ll Never Be A Staint. But I Can Do Better
by Jon Katz
“Omg.. unbelievable waste of time! & such (Amherst) arrogance … no matter what label is used, it’s one of your most beautiful photos of beautiful Maria. A rose by any other name…..glad you’re a happy ass😘.” – Veronica G.
“We live in a world saturated with false glamour. In truth, the problem lies not with glamour itself but with the things we have collectively agreed to regard as glamorous. Progress wouldn’t be found in eradicating the whole idea of glamour from our lives.” – Johannes Vermeer.
___
Thanks, Veronica; you are much more intelligent and wiser than I am. And you are right.
I apologize to my readers for getting sucked into the great label and cultural wars that are plaguing our country. Even the best colleges do it.
We are a sick nation now; we are struggling for some psychological vaccination in a society that no longer trusts doctors, scientists, politicians, journalists, doctors, or vaccinations. We only trust people who are peddling hatred, fear, greed, and division. Even art gets sucked into the rudeness and cruelty and plain old bad manners sweeping the country.
But flaps like this are about nothing and mean nothing. They are a waste of everybody’s time. They please no one and make no one happy.
(Note: The above photo of Maria is not a portrait or a still life. It’s a photograph. Enough said.)
Veronica G., the author of that beautiful post above, woke me up this morning. She realized what I momentarily forgot: it doesn’t matter what label one puts on a photograph (sorry, professor). It matters if I took a good photo, and it matters that I am happy a happy ass (one of the Amherst culture warriors said I was an ass.This is an insult to donkeys).
This morning, Maria and I were still discussing how art has changed and its traditional labels and definitions. Art is quite debatable and always has been.
Maria and I have many good discussions like that, and she has taught me a lot about art as I begin creating some. My Amherst friends say what Maria says doesn’t matter because she only has a master’s degree, not a PhD. Maria has produced more good art in a month than I imagine Amherst College has in years).
Therefore, I was sold; her opinions don’t count, and she needs to be more educated. If you want to talk with me about art, it would be wiser to be less arrogant and elitist than to say something other than this to me. I now realize I learn more from a breakfast chat with Maria than I would guess in a decade studying art at Amherst College. Maria loves it when I think about something rather than rush ahead and do it.
It matters that I took a beautiful picture of beautiful Maria. Thanks, Veronica; I sometimes feel like an alcoholic who takes one or two drinks and justifies it as okay.
This is why I will never be a saint. But I can do better. I am better and will do more to be better. But I see that this work is never done.
I like the photo above; it’s also of Maria, but it captures (hopefully) the feeling of our living room on a suddenly bitter cold day. It isn’t a still life or a portrait but a picture. That’s good enough, although I’m sure someone will find some reason to question it.
Noah, yet another of my many amateur shrinks on social media, wrote me and said I was a narcissist who hates to be criticized or disagreed with. This could be true, although I’m afraid I have to disagree. I am challenged loudly and publicly every day. It’s not on my list of serious problems.
I learn something from everything. I trust Maria and my shrink more than Noah; she is trained and experienced in basket cases like me. And Maria knows me, unlike the untrained shrinks of social media. She likes where I am going these days, and so do I. Maria thinks I’m getting to a good place, and Maria never lies or says what people want to hear.
Amateur diagnoses for people and animals are increasingly common on social media, and I should be flattered that I am considered important enough to be diagnosed by people who know absolutely nothing about me and who are wrong just about every time. I find this strange. They should be kicked offline; I imagine they do a lot of harm to people who don’t know what actual therapy is about. I bet they kill a lot of dogs and other animals.
I can’t imagine sending my Ph.D. art professor or her devoted students the kinds of messages they send me.
My grandmother told me to mind my business, and her advice stuck. But she never got to tell the rest of the world to mind theirs.
Veronica’s message (which my grandmother might have sent if she spoke English) stuck in my consciousness. I thought about it when I woke up this morning.
I’m in a strange position here.
I never write intrusive, unsolicited, or nasty messages to people I don’t know or even those I know. And I don’t care whether everyone in our vast universe likes me or what I do. I’m sharing my life, not running for public office. Thank God I’m free of the need for other people’s approval.
I’ll never quite understand why people feast on other people’s life and work like digital vampires, but I’m not taking the bait much any more. This is a good sign. My therapist and I will continue to work on this. I’m really very close.
Noah says I’m narcissistic. It might be accurate, but Noah doesn’t know what he is talking about. I am better than that and worse than that sometimes; that’s the thing about analyzing someone else’s consciousness. You do have to think about it.
I know only two people who know me well enough to diagnose me – Maria and my long-time therapist, Peggy. Both of them approve of me, especially these days; my big ego is swelling again. I’m taking lovely photos and writing some nice things on my blog. I don’t know about narcissism, but I do have a big ego. You can only write as many books as I have with one. And with perspective, it’s a good thing to have, not bad.
After all of my progress ignoring or backing away from the conflicts raging outside my world, I slipped into one of those social media traps this week: needlessly defending myself from arrogant and rude strangers, stepping into the fray, defending myself as I have always had to do, but also wasting time and energy in the process. I spent most of my early life defending myself; it’s a tough habit to break. But I am very close to doing it. The still-life bullshit was a step back; I got suckered. Back to work.
I moved up here to the country to be free. I gave up book writing to be free. I got divorced to be free. I gave away all my money because I was stupid, but it did also help me to be free.
I am happy, and happiness is not possible without freedom. I fled upstate to escape people telling me what to write and think. I came here to be satisfied and find nature, quiet, and love, and I now have all those things. Maybe narcissism pays off.
For me, happiness is all about freedom. If I am free, I can be happy with the snap of my figures. Enslaved people can never be satisfied, and right now, many of us, including me, have fallen into the slavery of trying to defend ourselves in a sometimes hostile world filled with anger and selfishness.
Does it matter if something is called a still life or a portrait? Does it matter when mannerless strangers – even those with a Ph.D.- assume they can intrude in my life and judge me for my feelings or thoughts? It this worth a minute of my time or anyone else’s?
Honestly, I don’t care about labels. I refuse to label myself red or blue or progressive or conservative. Labels are a kind of slavery; I don’t know anyone who lives in labels who is happy. I like to toss ideas around in my head and see what survives. The Ph.D. professor who started all this foolishness says her opinions are not debatable. They are facts, not opinions.
I don’t want to be a student there or anywhere else; there is no chance of that anyway. My ideas are feelings and opinions; I don’t believe I have a lock on truth or “facts” or delusions about my wisdom.
If I were a slave to liberalism or conservatism, that means I am no longer free to think freely; it is a kind of slavery to be caught in the threads of someone else’s beliefs. To be happy, I need to be free of thought, even from my assumptions, conceptions, and ideas. It’s okay to change. It’s OK to be wrong. It’s OK to think.
Sometimes, I must let go of my ideas, even when abandoning them isn’t simple or easy. One idea I must shed is the need to defend myself from people telling me what to say, write, and think. I’ll never give in to that. They’ll never stop trying—it’s time for radical acceptance.
Veronica G is a longtime reader of the blog and someone whose views and challenges I respect and pay attention to. She has the gift of saying essential things clearly. Her direct message got me back on track.
She is so right about the foolish flap I fell into and joined the other day when a college professor criticized me for questioning whether a photo I took was a portrait or a still life. I was told it was not debatable. Silly me, I took it seriously and answered her, explaining myself or trying.
She fled. She probably did have better things to do. I sure did.
28 February
Color And Light: Powerful Rain And Wind Storms All Over The Country, Brighten Up
by Jon Katz
It’s pouring, and the wind is fierce right now. I’ll be happy when Maria gets home from her belly dancing; the driving through Vermont will be a bit sticky. These are howling severe winds. Maria knows what she is doing, but it always makes me uncomfortable when she is out in a storm. I’m the storm wussy, not her. This kind of love does take its own toll. I wanted to get these posts up before the wind gets any stronger and trees start falling.
It’s a gloomy night all over the country. Stay try, stay warm, see you in the morning (if the power’s not out.)
28 February
I Have An Animal Support Team, I Just Didn’t Realize It. They Are Part Of My Spiritual Direction
by Jon Katz
We all need support in this world, and in my life, animals are essential. Recently, Zip has shaken my understanding of dogs and animals and support. Maria is, of course, my primary support system; no animal has come close to that. Still, my animals comfort, inspire, make me laugh, and teach me how to love.
They are essential to me and a key element in my spiritual direction. (photo above by Maria Wulf.)
Thomas Aquinas was one of my favorite philosophers who wrote about animals. He did not think animals are equal to humans, as so many people do now, but rather, he believed we needed to love and be kind to animals so that we could learn to love and be kind to people. I have tried to embrace this idea. Animals teach me every day, some more than others.
My animals have helped me to grow, love, listen, be patient, and learn; they have been around us for thousands of years and have a lot to tell us if only we can hear. They know me better than any human other than Maria and my daughter.
Animals have been a part of my spiritual direction from the beginning, from Julius and Stanley to Rose to my other dogs and now to Fanny, Zinnia, Zip, Fate, and Bud. Each dog has marked or opened something inside of me. I need to give them more credit.
To listen to animals, we have to live around them, which more and more of us are eager to do.
My animal support group keeps me grounded, peaceful, and patient. I am always learning something from them. So, I’ve listed my support group in order of importance because they are all vital to me. They are always with me, inside the house or out.
Right now, Zip is foremost in my animal consciousness, mainly because he is new and has taken me on as a project. We have bonded powerfully.
He has become my farm partner; he goes everywhere with me on the farm, and we are beginning (weather permitting) to meditate together every morning in the chairs by the pasture. He is into silence, cuddling, curling up on my shoulder, and eventually going to sleep purring. He is my farm pall, my new buddy. We are always looking for one another.
No animal in my life will compare to Zinnia, my companion, supporter, and good friend. She is a beautiful therapy dog and a sweet creature; she has helped me through various surgeries and other difficulties.
She is always there, whenever I go, with whoever I go with. She has brightened my life, the Mansion residents, the refugee kids. She is patient and sweet. Whenever I look around, she is right by me, waiting to love me when I need it, drive when I’m going somewhere, and meet the many friends she has won over in therapy work. She is my light and spirit dog; I smile and am warm whenever I see her. She is at my feet whenever I write and at my feet whenever I sleep. When I am sick, she never goes away.
Zinnia and Bud are close friends and companions. Very often, when I go anywhere (this is Maria’s studio), I see the two together. They are a central part of my animal support team. (Photo by Maria Wulf)
Bud is a complex creature. He is my resting companion; when I sit down to watch a mystery, nap, or read a book, he is in my lap, waiting to get his belly scratched or just wanting to sleep. He’s my buddy inside the house and a warrior outside, hunting relentlessly for mice, moles, and chipmunks. You can tell when he catches one. He farts long and loud. I’ ‘m very fond of Bud, a small dog with a huge personality. And a history of bravery and good nature. He has been through hell but has no anger or grievance.
Fanny (foreground) is my calm companion. She always comes to me for scratching and rubbing; her calm and wisdom calm, inspire and heal me.
Bud is getting older, as am I. We are getting older together. He loves sitting by the sun.
What can I say about Zip? He entered my life like a bomb and changed it. I love having him around; I appreciate his affection, devotion, and character. I know what it means when those ears go straight up. Something small is about to die. I love our meditation time; it’s a new thing that settles me. He has awakened something good in me. I am grateful for him.
Fate is more Maria’s dog than mine, but she is a fantastic dog full of energy and commitment to work the way she sees it. Fate never succumbs to human expectations; things have to be her idea, and she never quits her work. She inspires me to do the same.
28 February
Bedlam Farm Book Sales, Four Great Books For Sale At Very Modest Price
by Jon Katz
Today, we offer four used books for sale as part of the Bedlam Farm Book Sales Project. Maria read two of them, and I read the other three.
We liked our books very much; we don’t sell any of the books we thought were stinkers.
The four are different; each has been well and thoroughly reviewed if you wish to look the reviews up online. Maria is charging $10 plus $5 shipping. She is handling payment; please don’t send any money until she knows if the books are still for sale, and please don’t send any payments to me or in my name.
To purchase a book or get on the list, e-mail Maria at [email protected] to ask if the book you want is available.
This is her project; she does the work and gets the money. We love to read and are pleased to see these well-cared-for books go to our readers and friends at a meager price. All are hardcovers in good condition.
The first is a copy of the AKC’s famous “The Complete Dog Book.” This book is enormous, almost $900 pages, and cost me $35 when I bought it in 2007. It is the Bible of dog books, a complete top-to-bottom guide to finding a dog, understanding breeds, training, and caring for a dog, from birth or acquisition to death.
It’s long and thorough – about 900 pages.
This was my very reliable guide to caring for dogs. It’s the official publican of the American Kennel Club. The book on sale is the 20th edition, and it’s in great shape.
In one book, it can tell you everything you might need to know about finding, buying, choosing a breed, training, and health care. It is for serious dog lovers who want to know all there is to understand rather than getting a dog emotionally or on impulse. I highly recommend it and am happy it might go to a dog lover. It was one of my primary dog guidebooks. It’s heavy, and Maria may need to charge more than $5 for shipping. She’ll let you know.
The second book – Three Hours, is a gripping, best-selling story that is all too familiar to Americans. British writer Rosamund Lipton has written a novel about something most people don’t care to read about – school shootings. The story covers three hours (180 minutes) in the life of a British private school under siege by terrorists or sociopaths who wounded the headmaster by gunshot. They promise more deaths if their demands are not met, but they won’t say what their demands are.
A police psychologist has just a few hours to figure out who the invaders are before they kill some children trapped in the school auditorium.
It’s not a book I could put down easily, but it was in no way horrific.
The book is done skillfully; it is a gripping read, thoughtfully and delicately done. Still, it was tense, I felt the clock running out. It was never bloody, just tense and nail-biting. I was impressed; I never thought I would appreciate a book on that subject. This book is simple; it’s an important book.
The third book for sale is I Have Some Questions For You by award-winning Rebecca Makkaiwas.
Maria read this book and loved it. It’s a mystery and novel about Bodie Kane, a film professor and podcaster who returns to her New Hampshire Private school as a short-term lecturer. Twenty years earlier, her friend and roommate was murdered at the school, and she is not persuaded that they got the right killer. The book is 435 pages long, too long for me to take up at the time but an easy and good read for Maria. She recommends it highly.
I’d call it an unusual boarding school murder drama; Bodie has to confront herself and the natural killer.
The fourth book is How To Say Babylon, by Jamaican writer Safiya Sinclair, a Pulitzer Prize Winner. The New York Times hooked me on this book, and I didn’t regret it. How to Say Babylon, said the Times, is “a gripping tale of fundamentalism and the light of rebellion piercing through its cracks.” That is the truth.
Sinclair’s father was a violent and sometimes vicious reggae musician and a militant Rastafarian. He was obsessed with Sinclair’s purity and the corrupting influences of Western Culture, which was pulling her farther and farther away.
She was desperate to get out of Jamaica and to the U.S. Her father is determined to stop her.
I loved this book; it is a story of courage, determination, and a fantastic ending. Sinclair is a great writer and a powerful human being. I recommend this book highly. In one sense, it’s also a powerful feminist tale about freedom.
All of our books sell for $10 plus $5 shipping. They are all in first-rate shape; We care greatly for our books.
The AKC Dog Book is the first of my extensive library of dog and animal books. I’m sorry to see it go. I don’t need it anymore. Much to my astonishment, I have read it cover to cover, except for some of the breed descriptions I’m not interested in. I used it almost every day for some time.
If you are interested in these books, e-mail Maria at [email protected]. Please don’t send any payment until she e-mails back and confirms the book is still available. Please don’t send the payments to me or in my name. She accepts PayPal, Venmo, and checks and will review the payment details when she contacts you.
Thanks for your interest in this project. The farmhouse is stuffed to the ceiling with good books in good shape. We are delighted to sell them cheaply to our readers, who have supported us. Every book we put up for sale has sold almost instantly. It feels very good to be doing this.