Just around the time I was born in 1918 a great art teacher was inspiring
generations of artists in Philadelphia. His name was Robert Henri, and I was
to win the award of his classic book, THE ART SPIRIT, in my first year of
art school in Philadelphia, 18 years later. (The award was in Drawing)

Every now and then, I return to the philosophy hidden in this book of
his advice to young artists. Not so very ancient, I find:

“Art appears in many forms. To some degree every human being is
an artist, dependent on the quality of his growth. Art need not be
intended. It comes inevitably as the tree from the root, the branch
from the trunk, the blossom from the twig.

None of these forget the present in looking backward or forward.
they are occupied wholly with the fulfillment of their own existence.

The branch does not boast of the relation it bears to its great ancestor
the trunk, and does not claim attention to itself for this honor, nor does
it call your attention to the magnificent red apple it is about to bear.

Because it is fully engaged in the full play of its own existence,
because it is full in its own growth, its fruit is inevitable.”

………………….ROBERT HENRI, from his book, The Art Spirit.

I want to honor those of you who have children growing into adults,
and at the same time have parents who are moving out of the
so-called productive world, still needing to be of use and continuing

With all of your love and desire to assist both the next and previous
generations, there is room for you! You’re in the middle, certainly.
However, never lose sight of the time and space where you are
important and wonderful and fabulously interesting. Right now.

with love …


I am surrounded by stories of change in so many lives. It’s possible my recent bout with illness was such an experience, heralding the need for change.
When I found this poem, it gave me a place to stand in the midst of

“Stand still. The trees ahead and the bushes beside you

Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,

And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,

Must ask permission to know it and be known.

The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,

I have made this place around you.

If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here.

No two trees are the same to Raven.

No two branches are the same to Wren.

If what a tree or bush does is lost to you,

You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows

Where you are. You must let it find you.”


The beauty of this mysterious ‘here’ is met in that place called “pause”.

One breath, pause, and then the step to the next breath, like crossing a brook, not a river. Best to do this barefoot, allowing the moss to hold you upright.

with love, Mom/Mimi/Toni Antoinette


Well, 5 + 3 = 8, or 53, In this case, it’s 53, actually # 53, a poem.

“may my heart always be open to little
birds who are the secrets of living
whatever they sing is better than to know and if men should not hear them men are old

may my mind stroll about hungry
and fearless and thirsty and supple
and even if it’s sunday may i be wrong
for whenever men are right they are not young

and may myself do nothing usefully
and love yourself so more than truly
there’s never been quite such a fool who could fail pulling all the sky over him with one smile ”

……………….e e cummings
from 100 Selected Poems

This ode to my Libra son and grandsons, with birthdays one right after the other. I see each one of you, hungry, fearless, thirsty and supple. I know you hear the bird sing.

The sounds of birds and the traffic off I-95 come through my windows, open or closed. I have spent most of the past 3 weeks in bed, briefly up and back to bed. That “cold” thats around right now.
And I have rounded the corner to wellness, grazie dio.
Now, how to re-schedule all that was missed!

I started by saying hello this morning.

with love, Mom/Mimi/Toni/Antoinette


A HOLIDAY WEEKEND ! Perfect weather. A breather from all that crowds the headlines, and the most solemn day in the Jewish calendar.

Always contrast and balance.

I have been housebound for 10 days of illness, and look forward to feeling better any moment now. Maybe this quote will help:

“Do not wait for perfection

to be the continuous way

in which you live

before you celebrate.

Whenever there is a crack

in the shell of illusion, give a party.

When you catch the sun

streaming through the clouds,

buy yourself a dozen roses.

Whenever you feel

like waltzing down the street,

let nothing stop you.

You are not a beggar at the table of life.
You are the honored guest.”

…………………from Emmanuel’s Book Three, What Is an Angel Doing Here?,
chapter titled: The Transparency of Darkness. Compiled by Pat Rodegast
and Judith Stanton.

Well, that’ll do for starters.

with love, Mom/Mimi/Toni/Antoinette