The Lovers’ Chronicle 1 July – towards – art by Rhoda Delaval & Willard Metcalf – birth of George Sand – premiere of Gentleman Prefer Blondes & North by Northwest

Dear Zazie,  Here is today’s Lovers’ Chronicle from Mac Tag.  Rhett

The Lovers’ Chronicle

Dear Muse,

could not find a song with today’s
word in the title, but i found a good one
with the word in a line, "What I Did for Love"
 from the musical A Chorus Line with music
by Marvin Hamlisch and lyrics by Edward Kleban;
‘’Kiss today goodbye
And point me toward tomorrow’’
’’That is a beautiful song’’
whose version is a fair topic
but Aretha recorded it, so
’’No one ever did it better’’
it fits well here as a statement
we could have said when we
decided to be us
’’Just point us towards tomorrow’’
and we will not forget what we did

© copyright 2023.2024 mac tag/cowboy coleridge all rights reserved

the answer is, these moments; or we could go with away from, from without, from a way that had no purpose, no direction, a way that had not enough beauty and little depth, a direction that could easily be changed, where conviction was wafer thin and could be sacrificed for a wink, where purpose was as shiftin’ as the desert sand, but now lets swing it back to what all of that was leadin’ towards, my two-fold destiny, writin’ this for you

© copyright 2022.2024 mac tag/cowboy coleridge all rights reserved

the purpose now,
ok, we can say it,
a passion

a long travail
that finally sleeps

for you
this i seek

all we are, culminates here, what we have become, in each other, so much about bein’, explorin’, creatin’ a vision

the beauty that speaks
is the only moment

© copyright 2021 mac tag/cowboy coleridge all rights reserved

Pale Love, Pale Rider

yes thought, no,
stronger, believed in
another purpose
but it was just
a fool fallin’

there can only be
one purpose
only ever should
have been one

life coulda been lived
without losin’ sight
of the real purpose

family, relationships, all of it
could have been had
as long as it happened
movin’ towards this purpose

© copyright 2020.2023 mac tag/cowboy coleridge all rights reserved

a purpose, shall we say
the word, a passion

this necessary vision

a long wound that rests,
never quite healin’

art, verse
for discovery
this is what we seek

we run towards
not so much
about leavin’
as it is about travelin’

do you hear

which of us does not have
some pain to distract
or some yoke to shake

© copyright 2019 mac tag/cowboy coleridge all rights reserved

live from Table Rock Lake, Missouri

on vacation with friends
a place never been before
coffee/cigar this mornin’
on the balcony
my favorite place
takin’ a boat out later
swimmin’, cliff jumpin’
plenty of cold beer
from Mexico;
better with you here
of course
if only there was a real you

© copyright 2018.2024 mac tag/cowboy coleridge all rights reserved

b’lieve the elusive,
never thought to be had
purpose has been found

the long drive has afforded
plenty of time for thinkin’
about the whys and whats

the wrong turns, the crashes
the broken trail left behind

i will say it,
though it reeks of cliché,
only by goin’ through the fire
can one emerge to move towards
who they were meant to be

that purpose is right here
creatin’ with you

© copyright 2017.2023 mac tag/cowboy coleridge all rights reserved

Give me somethin’
to write about
Give it to me!

Gimme somethin’
to write about,
nobody gits hurt

The lost still look
lost. The lonely
still look lonely
And still, always
still, no one looks
as fine as you

© copyright 2015 mac tag/cowboy coleridge all rights reserved

Today is the birthday of Rhoda Delaval (London 1 July 1725 – 1757 London); aristocrat and artist.  Lady Astley studied painting with Arthur Pond, who painted her portrait.  Seaton Delaval Hall passed from the Delaval family to the Astley family through her descendants.

On 23 May 1751, she married Edward Astley, who became the 4th Baronet of Melton Constable. They lived at 11 Downing Street when in London. Astley gave birth to four children, one daughter and three sons. Rhoda was born 14 April 1755 and died by 12 May, when she was brought to be buried.

She died following the birth of her son Francis and was buried 21 October 1757 at Widcombe, Bath with her son Edward and daughter Edith Rhoda at a church near the manor.

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Today is the birthday of George Sand (Amantine-Lucile-Aurore Dupin; Paris 1 July 1804 – 8 June 1876 Nohant-Vic, France); novelist and memoirist.  She is equally well known for her much publicized romantic affairs with a number of artists, including Polish-French composer and pianist Frédéric Chopin and the writer Alfred de Musset.

In 1822, at the age of eighteen, Sand married Casimir Dudevant (1795–1871; first name “François”).  She and Dudevant had two children.   In early 1831, she left her husband and entered upon a four- or five-year period of “romantic rebellion.”  In 1835, she was legally separated from Dudevant and took her children with her.

Sand conducted affairs of varying duration with Jules Sandeau (1831), Prosper Mérimée, de Musset (summer 1833 – March 1835), Louis-Chrysostome Michel, Pierre-François Bocage, Félicien Mallefille, Louis Blanc, and Chopin (1837–1847).  She engaged in an intimate friendship with actress Marie Dorval, which led to widespread but unconfirmed rumours of an affair.

In Majorca one can still visit the (then-abandoned) Carthusian monastery of Valldemossa, where Sand spent the winter of 1838–1839 with Chopin and her children.  This trip to Majorca was described by her in Un hiver à Majorque (A Winter in Majorca), first published in 1841.

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quotes

J’ai un but, une tâche, disons le mot, une passion. Le métier d’écrire en est une violente et presque indestructible.

La vie est une longue blessure qui s’endort rarement et ne se guérit jamais.

L’art pour l’art est un vain mot. L’art pour le vrai, l’art pour le beau et le bon, voilà la religion que je cherche….

Tous, quand nous avons un peu de loisir et d’argent, nous voyageons, ou plutôt nous fuyons, car il ne s’agit pas tant de voyager que de partir, entendez-vous? Quel est celui de nous qui n’a pas quelque douleur à distraire ou quelque joug à secouer?

La beauté qui parle aux yeux, reprit-elle, n’est que le prestige d’un moment; l’œuil du corps n’est pas toujours celui de l’âme.

Today is the birthday of Willard Metcalf (Willard Leroy Metcalf; Lowell, Massachusetts; July 1, 1858 – March 9, 1925 New York City); artist.  He studied at the School of the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, and later attended Académie Julian, Paris.  After early figure-painting and illustration, he became prominent as a landscape painter.  He was one of the Ten American Painters who in 1897 seceded from the Society of American Artists.  For some years he was an instructor in the Womans Art School, Cooper Union, New York, and in the Art Students League, New York.  In 1893 he became a member of the American Watercolor Society, New York.  Generally associated with American Impressionism, he is also remembered for his New England landscapes and involvement with the Old Lyme Art Colony at Old Lyme, Connecticut and his influential years at the Cornish Art Colony.In 1899 Metcalf joined his friends Robert Reid and Edward Simmons in painting murals for a New York courthouse. 

Metcalf’s model for the murals was Marguerite Beaufort Hailé, a stage performer twenty years his junior, whom the artist would marry in 1903.  In 1907 his marriage to Marguerite dissolved when she eloped from Old Lyme with one of Metcalf’s male students. His second wife was Henriette Alice McCrea, who would later become a partner of the artist Thelma Wood and be immortalized by Djuna Barnes in Nightwood. Metcalf and Henreitte divorced in 1920, which spurred a period of drinking and decreased productivity.  However, he rebounded and painted for a number of years in Vermont, possibly returning briefly to Cornish.

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 thanks for stoppin’ by y’all

^{Mac Tag}