Things I Learned This Week

The Central Texas Flood, Baez, Fierstein, Perry, Raquel, and Cape Fear

Summer is slipping by fast. I know everyone is out and about soaking up these days here in Texas that are not too too hot while the rest of the world cooks, but enjoy the air-conditioning on a couch somewhere and fall down these rabbit holes with me.

I found myself up the Guadalupe River yesterday, at the origin of so much sadness a year ago. It was amazing the amount of clean up that has been done, and how you can already see the landscape beginning to heal itself. I hope the same can be said of the people, though I imagine a good deal of them will, sadly, never be able to escape that moment. There was a hand-painted sign up as you drove into Hunt that said GRATEFUL, and it felt like such an amazing sentiment. It’s such a beautiful part of Texas, and one that I know has meant so much to so many people. It’s a reminder of how frail this life is, and how we should all take every opportunity to shine a light on the people and things we love rather than tear each other down. I’m working on that myself. We all should.

On our drive, we listened to a few podcasts in hopes of finding something to replace the breadth of my husband’s favorite, Slate’s Culture Gabfest, which ended this week after nearly two decades (RIP). We didn’t come across any one thing directly comparable (any ideas?) but we did listen to The New Yorker’s Critics At Large. One episode called “An American Playlist” asked listeners to leave voicemails about their favorite “American” songs. Someone offered a sing-along with Joan Baez recorded in 1963 of The Battle Hymn of the Republic. I’d never heard this version before, and it was quite extraordinary to listen while roaming the Texas Hill Country. I didn’t know it was written by the female abolitionist Julia Ward Howe during the Civil War; she was inspired to write it after meeting Abraham Lincoln in 1861. The song became the unofficial anthem of the Union Army and still holds the incredible ability to produce goosebumps. Have a listen and then Google Ms. Howe. Her life is worth a generous side quest of its own.

Someone who is inspiring me lately is Harvey Fierstein, the actor and playwright, who is now an incredible quilter. I’ve been following him for a few years, but something he posted for July Fourth really resonated with me. “This is MODIGLIANI’S BOYS which was inspired by a drawing Modigliani did of a hermaphrodite (central figure) and some other sketches of his. Free motion quilted and then I added Mexican macrame cording to outline the figures. When I first saw this fabric it reminded me of a green chalkboard so went with that. Looking at it now I’d love to turn this into wallpaper. That would make the gayest bedroom decor ever. HAPPY 4TH everyone.” I love the idea of fabric as chalkboard, and his execution is perfect. All of his quilts are incredible but this one was such a ray of hope in contrast to the Supreme Court decision this week. As usual, I am reminded that art is the most positive form of protest. All you creators out there, keep at it!

Speaking of amazing people who make stuff, sadly, today is the last day to see the Angelica Raquel show at The McNay Museum of Art. Doesn’t mean you still can’t get your online fill of her art — “fiber-based work inspired by a rich familial and regional cultural history rooted in folklore. Expanding upon her family’s oral storytelling traditions, Raquel conjures a mythical visual narrative, woven from childhood memories, dreams, urban legends, and ancestral lore.” I’m new to her stuff, but got-damn is she good. If I had another lifetime to be a full-time artist, Raquel’s work would be something to aspire to. I hope this local girl goes a long, long way.

As part of my indigo learnings, I started reading Black in Blues: How a Color Tells the Story of My People, Imani Perry’s incredible book tracing the color blue through Black history. Here she touches on so many fascinating threads from the West African indigo trade, the history of enslaved people throughout the world, and cobalt mining in the Congo to blues music, the meaning of God and the stars and the heavens, the myth of superior origins, and her own life as a Black woman in America. I love personal narrative that includes large swaths of world history, especially when they are steeped in the divine, the American story, and human understanding.

We’ve been down the Cape Fear rabbit hole over the past couple of weeks, keeping up with the current Apple + series as well as rewatching the 1990s Scorsese film, the 60s Robert Mitchum version, topping it off with Sideshow Bob’s spoof. Each has something different to offer. Javier Bardem’s Max Cady is anxiety-inducing in a thoroughly modern way, while the other two films are infused with so much child predator doom that it’s amazing how far we’ve come as a society. The current series avoids killing the family pet—as both earlier films do—yet has no hesitation about showing a man impaling a human head on a dumbbell or depicting the amputation of a main character’s toes. All that ick, and we had to do a soul cleanse by rewatching Bart and Bob’s delightful version of HMS Pinafore in The Simpsons “Cafe Feare” episode. I CAN NOT WAIT for the Boots Riley film version of the stage play Mr. Burns, a Post-Electric Play which—in a post apocalyptic world—remembers The Simpsons parody episode as a cultural touchstone and full-length opera, timestamped for the ages. The “best of” from all include Javier who is exciting to watch in anything, Juliette Lewis’s stunning performance as the daughter in Scorsese’s version, and seeing Gregory Peck as a doting father in something other than To Kill a Mockingbird. As for The Simpsons, that whole episode kills, so enjoy the highlights.

Quote of the week?

“People, especially elders, repeat stories over and over again with purpose. In the arrogance of youth, we often think they do I because they are absent-minded. Now I know they repeat themselves because they’ve whittled like down into observations that should not be forgotten. They are authoring scriptures of their own.” ― Imani Perry, from Black in Blues

‘Til Tuesday, friends. (Or whenever!)

Burgin

(An MFA grad student at 50+… follow along and read my story here.)