Showing posts with label Muse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Muse. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Hemingway: Running From Crazy

Plenty of reasons not to like Hemingway: womanizer, booze, gambling.  Especially being a little girl growing up during the feminist era of the 60's.  His Key West, FL, bedroom, below.

After beloved Miss Louise & Aunt Tillie died I somehow ended up, in my 40's, with a copy of Hemingway's, A Moveable Feast.

It's repulsive how much I like Hemingway's writing.  Hemingway's, Pilar, above.

Running From Crazy, Barbara Kopple's new documentary about Hemingway's 'mental illness' doesn't mention 'addiction' in promotional materials.  Odd, yes?  (Hemingway's pool, above, "“ . . .The swimming pool is wonderful -it is very large and the water, from away under the reef, is fairly salt. Also it lights up at night -I find that each underwater bulb is five times the voltage of the one bulb in the light house across the street, so the pool must be visible to Mars -it is wonderful to swim around in a sort of green fire, one’s friends look like luminous frogs . . .”, Elizabeth Bishop.)

(Had to include Hemingway's treasure box, above.  A past client had one & it was loaded with heirloom silver pieces, more than Jack Sparrow could imagine.)

Hemingway's home now, above.

Ca. 1933, above, Hemingway's garden as he knew it, Jane Austen 'rustic'.  Much better than the 'neat' garden tourists demand.
Garden & Be Well,       XO Tara
Pics via Hemingway Home.
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Wednesday, July 8, 2009


Designing landscapes is science & poetry. After college I thought science would be enough. Ha. Science is easy. It's the poetry I'm after. When the Muse is not fed what remains is science.
Feeding the Muse? Books, music, travel, pets, movies, friends, collage, gardening, spirit & serendipity.
A shortcut, 3-4 seconds by car. This stern building, below, variously abandoned or occupied thru the years, feeds the Muse. Building, meadow, trees, all delight. Its current incarnation redolent of its caretakers.

Many years pass with debris & unkempt trees/bushes. Not now. The motivation is a belief in God.

The delight, in a city of millions, of trees-mosses-broomsedge-more caressing the side of my car at road's edge. This is the extent of the woodland & road.
Taking me back to Europe, each time I travel the road, of the many church's I've seen maintained with sweat equity vs. money.

There are no graves at the Flat Rock Primitive Baptist Church, what a name, but there are sacraments in the ground, below. Perfect atonement of roots-soil-moss-lichens-more.

Taking these pictures and seeing for the 1st time lace curtains. Hung with love.

Someone keeps the grounds clear as has been done in Europe for centuries. Seeing human spirit, not lack of landscape or architecture. Its very lack creating richness.

Seeing, above, in this side of the church another church and its side, below.

Flat Rock Primitive Baptist Church hasn't the provenance of the church, above, but it does.

At its base, a crown of lichens. Atonement: building-man-earth-spirit.
Exactly the job of a landscape design, atonement of home-garden-earth-life.
Garden & Be Well, XO T