The Emancipation Oak, on the grounds of Hampton University. The first reading of the Emancipation Proclamation was to former slaves gathered under this tree, sometime in early 1863—two years prior to reaching Galveston on June 19, 1865.
America goddam.
Hometown pride at the 0:41 mark.
The Confederate monument in Portsmouth, Virginia—my home town—covered in trash bags and blankets. This is one of the most satisfying images I have ever seen. Photo by Kiahnna Patterson/AP.
Past flowers.
Yesterday I returned to old photos of my kitchen garden back in Virginia. Today’s nostalgia is for flowers from the borders. All were taken over several growing seasons, in Portsmouth, Virginia.
Feeling a little nostalgic for my kitchen garden back in Virginia this morning. These are photos resurrected from the archives, and taken over several years. I do hope my old watering can is OK.
I’m currently reading House of Names by Colm Tóibín (2016), a retelling of the story of Clytemnestra, her revenge-killing of her husband Agamemnon
―who sacrificed their daughter Iphigenia to gain success in battle― and Clytemnestra’s eventual matricide by her son, Orestes. It’s all very Greek, and tragic. Don’t get excited about spoilers. I don’t see how I can spoil a story that’s been around since Aeschylus wrote it down in the fifth century BCE. It’s not my fault if you never read Bullfinch.
I’ve been fascinated with the story since I was a teenager, when I first saw this remarkable, ghastly painting based on the triply tragic end of the story. Walter P. Chrysler Jr. made a gift of his formidable private art collection to the Norfolk Museum of Art in my hometown, and this showed up on a gallery wall. His gift transformed a sad little local museum into an important regional institution, which was renamed in his honor. Seeing paintings like this for the first time was life altering. I’ve never been the same because I had access to that amazing place.
The painting, Orestes Pursued by the Furies, is by French painter Adolphe-William Bouguereau, completed in 1862. Its overblown romanticism and staged melodrama were already quaintly outmoded before the paint had dried, since the
au courant
impressionists were already re-inventing art. But I think it is marvelous. The furies, Tisiphone, Alecto, and Megaera harry Orestes, pointing accusing fingers at
Clytemnestra’s
bloody breast. Poor guilty Orestes covers his ears, but he can’t block out the Furies’ denunciations. They are already in his head. And if the subject and execution of the painting don’t get your attention, its scale is hard to ignore. It is huge, over 90 by 110 inches (about 230 by 280 cm).
The book has been a terrific read so far. Like all Greek tragedies, the audience takes up the story already knowing how and where it will end. The power of seeing the end from the beginning, while the characters struggle in ignorance, is really the point in these ancient morality tales. We see where they can amend and atone and alter the outcome, but they never do. I’m not done with the book yet. If Tóibín manages to slip in a surprise twist, you won’t hear about it from me.
Adult and juvenile brown pelicans (Pelecanus occidentalis), on Mill Creek in Hampton,Virginia. They may not be fair of face, but I think their plumage is marvelous.
When I was a boy brown pelicans were unknown in the Chesapeake Bay region. Their numbers were devastated by DDT use (banned in 1972), and they were deemed an endangered species in 1970. Today they are considered a species of least concern in regard to their conservation status. I saw my first pelicans in the early 1960s on Ocracoke Island in North Carolina, and even there they were rarities. Now they are year-round residents of Hampton Roads waters, and they have established breeding colonies as far north as Smith Island in Maryland. I suspect the dramatic range expansion is a result of their population rebound, coupled with a warming climate.
Adult and juvenile brown pelicans (Pelecanus occidentalis), on Mill Creek in Hampton,Virginia. They may not be fair of face, but I think their plumage is marvelous.
When I was a boy brown pelicans were unknown in the Chesapeake Bay region. Their numbers were devastated by DDT use (banned in 1972), and they were deemed an endangered species in 1970. Today they are considered a species of least concern in regard to their conservation status. I saw my first pelicans in the early 1960s on Ocracoke Island in North Carolina, and even there they were rarities. Now they are year-round residents of Hampton Roads waters, and they have established breeding colonies as far north as Smith Island in Maryland. I suspect the dramatic range expansion is a result of their population rebound, coupled with a warming climate.
Banded.
Juvenile brown pelican (Pelecanus occidentalis), on Mill Creek, at the ruins of the Water Street wharf in the Phoebus community of Hampton, Virginia.
Banded.
Juvenile brown pelican (Pelecanus occidentalis), on Mill Creek, at the ruins of the Water Street wharf in the Phoebus community of Hampton, Virginia.
Dithyramb 