my neighbor’s entrance
Bluesky
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making is it’s own reward
Mr. Wolf calls me a magical thinker. Because magical thinkers believe that thoughts can influence external events. But maybe I’m really a stoic like Marcus Aurelius who said that you are your thoughts. And this I truly believe. I also believe that memories can also be magical depending on how they’re remembered. Because the way something is remembered is what that something will become.
“Balcony Curtains” Via making huipiles on Paros
Many years ago, I put up balcony curtains to create intimacy and protection from curious neighbors. They were not particularly pretty—orange, brown, and beige stripes—but they did their job. Eventually we replaced the curtains with a trellis. The curtains were then recycled as part of the awning for the terrace pergola. But then the pergola came down and so did the awning. And the curtains became part of my fabric stash. A couple of years ago I came across the old curtains. I remembered how they looked hanging on the balcony and the vision filled me with a pleasant sensation. So, I thought, why not repurpose them and keep that pleasant sensation alive. Magical thinking?
“Terrace Awning” Via The Aesthetics of Transformation
Magical implies a relationship with magic which, according to the dictionary, is “the use of supernatural powers over natural forces”. And that’s what hand sewing is for me. Because, when I start working with my hands, the repetition of movement changes the rhythm of my heartbeat and the frequency of my brainwaves. And I start to flow. Focusing my attention on stitching helps distance me from the world around me. Sewing is magical as it gives me the power to reconnect with myself.
Current events have thrown my biorhythms out of whack and are imposing themselves on my psyche. It can be very debilitating. To return to my core, I sew.
Right before the Civil War, captives from Africa were brought to Alabama despite the ban on trans-Atlantic slave trade. These Africans were not only brutally deprived of their home and of their freedom, but their culture and traditions were mutilated by colonization and enslavement as well.
Southwest of Selma, Alabama, there’s an African-American community known as Gee’s Bend where, following the Civil War and emancipation, sharecropping was initiated. Landowners allowed previously enslaved farmers to continue to cultivate the land but the farmers only received a portion of the crops they harvested. This arrangement was disadvantageous for the farmers but they really had no other options.
Gee’s Bend was in Wilcox County that was c. 80% African American and c. 60% of these citizens were living below the poverty level. Although Gee’s Bend was isolated and economically depressed, there was a very strong community sustained by the local Baptist church. The church provided the opportunity to gather together and unite in spirit. Making music and singing was important for these gatherings as it’s a form of self-affirmation.
Quilt making is also a form of self-affirmation. And African-American women had a tradition of quilt making. But in the 1960s, quilt making had another importance for Gee’s Bend. In 1966, the ladies of Gee’s Bend created the “Freedom Quilting Bee” intended to help sustain local blacks who’d lost their jobs simply because they’d registered to vote during the 1960s civil rights struggle.
In 1967, Lee Krasner, abstract artist and wife of Jackson Pollock, was visiting Alabama where she was told about the magnificent quilts of Gee’s Bend that were part of the Freedom Quilting Bee. After seeing them, Lee was amazed by their beauty and their simple sophistication. Not only did she buy a few quilts, but, once back in NYC, she actively promoted them. Diana Vreeland was enthusiastic as well and saw them as high art as did designer Ray Eames.
For the ladies of Gee’s Bend, making quilts was a means of keeping their family warm at night and of earning an income. But, by working with their hands, making quilts was also a means of creating an inner sanctuary.
“When humans began walking upright, everything changed. It freed the hands so humans could now reach out and grab something and hold it. The capacity to pick something up increased our ability to closely observe the world around us. Hands helped the brain to evolve.
Hands permitted humans to touch one another and create intimacy. This helped emotions to evolve.
Hands help us accomplish things. They can help create new mental pathways because making things requires sequential thought and logic. Thus, hands help connect the mind with the body.
Making is a form of meditation because focused attention and repeated motion send our brainwave frequencies into theta, just like meditation. So why not make something?” Via In Praise of Hands
Creating something from nothing is the world’s primary survival strategy. “Learning to make a quilt for a girl meant becoming a woman as the quilt symbolized practicality and survival, an acquirred knowledge of recycling and reuse.”
The ladies of Gee’s Bend created in isolation and were not worried about an outsider’s opinion. Maybe that’s why their quilts are so beautiful and audacious. In an oppressive society, these women found freedom in their quilt making.
These photos are from the book “The Quilts of Gee’s Bend” listed in the bibliography below.
Within us all is the need for individual expression. We need it for our spiritual survival. Piecing the quilt was a quiltmaker’s only private time. One quilter said, “sewing at home gave me peace of mind and a challenge”. Another quilter said that sewing was a means of keeping the mind together. Many of the quilters worked in the fields and were worn out at the end of the day. But on the walk home, they had something to give them energy—thinking about new patterns for their quilts.
The trading and sharing of fabrics and patterns created even more synergy between the women. But the need to maintain a sense of self was important. The motto was “Piece by yourself. Quilt together.”
”In the quilting bee time, I started using patterns but I shouldn’t have. It broke the ideas I had in my head. I should have stayed with my own ideas.” Nettie Young
In my mom’s cluttered kitchen, was a decorative sign she probably got with S&H Green Stamps. It showed a cornucopia with fruit and a dove overhead with a ribbon in its mouth. Written on this ribbon was the phrase “Virtue is its own reward.” Although the sign had been hanging for several years, I didn’t take much notice of it. I understood the words but didn’t have a real grasp on their meaning. One day, many years later while I was living on the other side of the Atlantic, out of the blue I started thinking about this sign. Suddenly, it had a significance for me it hadn’t had before.
The quote has been attributed to Cicero (106 BC-43 BC), Roman statesman and orator. With this Cicero wanted to say that the value of virtuous behavior exists within the act itself. Because righteousness carries its own intrinsic satisfaction, you shouldn’t expect a reward for it.
After the assassination of Julius Caesar in 44 BC, Cicero led an attack against Mark Antony. Unfortunately, this led to Cicero’s execution. His hands and head were severed and then displayed to show everyone what the consequences were for going against Mark Antony. Nevertheless, Cicero’s body may have been destroyed but his ideas survived via his writings.
Not only is virtue its own reward but so is artmaking. As stated previously, the true value of Gee’s Bend quilts was the feeling the ladies had while making them. Although the quilts helped keep the family warm and their sales put food on the table, the real value of these quilts was how they helped their makers stay close to their core by giving them that private space they needed.
So inspired by these ladies, I tried transforming my old balcony curtain into what I will call A Memory Cloth as each scrap of cloth has its own story to tell.
view of balcony curtain leftover
Memory Cloth made from woven scraps pieced on an old curtain
Bibliography: Beardsley, John; Arnett, William; Arnett, Paul; Livingston, Jane; “The Quilt’s of Gee’s Bend”; Tinwood Books, Atlanta; 2002.
Related:
The Aesthetics of Transformation +
Pettway Family Quilters + 7 fascinating facts about the Gee’s Bend quilters + the 2026 Airing of the Quilts Festival +
“When It Was So Rough that You Couldn’t Make It”: Voting Rights in the Early 1960s + The Case For Working With Your Hands +
Japanese Boro + What is Boro? The Complete Guide to Japan’s Sustainable Textile Art +
Cornucopia wiki +
Women in Rome
The Feltrinelli’s at Piazza della Repubblica has an international section promoting Rome-related literature. That’s where I found Elizabeth Buchan’s “Two Women in Rome”. At the time, I was reading about fascism and Italian writers and felt the need to escape the heaviness this genre was making me feel. The book that really broke me was Alberto Moravia’s “La Ciociara”. In English, its title is “Two Women”. Was Buchan making a reference to Moravia’s book?
Buchan’s two women are Lottie and Nina. Newlywed Lottie moves to Rome, where her husband is already living, to work as an archivist. Her job is to find out who murdered Nina Lawrence. Although Nina presented herself as a professional gardener, she was actually a spy for the Brits who wanted to know more about Aldo Moro’s kidnapping. Moro (1916-1978), ex-premier of Italy, was in the hands of home-grown terrorists, the Red Brigade (Brigate Rosse). The Italian right and certain foreign powers (like USA) feared that the post WWII situation had given the Communists a political advantage in Italy and it needed to be stopped. There was a major tug of war between left and right creating an abundance of political turbulence. In Italy, this period is known as the “Years of Lead” (Anni di Piombo).
“Two Women in Rome” is a pleasant but not a revolutionary read. However, there are many references to Rome, its people and places that are of interest. In particular, there are various references to paintings because Rome is full of them. Influenced by the Catholic Church, these paintings were meant to tell a story. One favorite theme was that of David and Bathsheba.
The story of Bathsheba and King David can be found in the Bible, (2 Samuel 11). One night in Jerusalem, King David was on his roof looking at the other roofs. That’s when he first saw Bathsheba. She was taking a bath and she was beautiful. She was so beautiful that David wanted to possess her. The problem was that Bathsheba was married to Uriah the Hittite, one of David’s most loyal soldiers. Unfortunately, although David was a king, he was not a noble one.
King David had Bathsheba summoned to his palace so she could spend the night with him. Later, when Bathsheba learned that she was pregnant, David freaked out. As Bathsheba had not been sleeping with her husband, her unfaithfulness would be discovered as would that of the king’s. To hide his sin, the king had Uriah sent to the front lines where he was intentionally exposed to enemy attack. With Uriah dead, David thought his crime had been permanently hidden. But God had seen everything and decided to punish David and Bathsheba by killing their baby. Adultery and murder—a tantalizing subject that artists picked up on.
“Bathsheba at her Bath” by Hans Memling c. 1485 via
“Bathsheba at her Bath” by Rembrandt, 1654
Another well used subject in painting was that of the Annunciation. Buchan gives special attention to Jean Pucelle’s “Annunciation”, and the exquisite tiny manuscript illumination from the “Hours of Jeanne d’Evreux”. It was made in the mid-1320s and is best known for its use of grisaille, a painting technique done in shades of grey.
“The Hours of Jeanne d’Evreux is an illuminated book of hours in the Gothic style. According to the usual account, it was created between 1324 and 1328 by Jean Pucelle for Jeanne d’Evreux, the third wife of Charles IV of France. It was sold in 1954 to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York where it is now part of the collection held at The Cloisters (accession number 54.1.2), and usually on display.” VIA
Buchan also mentions Charlotte Stuart, Duchess of Albany. She was the illegitimate daughter of Charles Edward Stuart who, in 1745, tried to take back the English crown. Charles, also known as “Bonnie Prince Charles”, was born in Rome at Palazzo Muti, home of the exiled Stuarts. In 1744, Charles decided to invade England and to restore the Stuart Monarchy. But that didn’t go well and Charles was subsequently forced to spend the rest of his life in exile. He had a number of mistresses and one wife. With his Scottish mistress, Clementina Walkinshaw, he had a daughter, Charlotte. But Charles had become a belligerent alcoholic so mother and daughter had to find a home elsewhere.
After his father’s death, Charles moved into his dad’s house, Palazzo Muti in Rome, where he led an animated social life and often visited the Pope. But his irregular lifestyle had gutted his health. His excessive drinking forced his wife to leave him. No one cared about Charles except for his daughter, Charlotte, who moved to Rome to take care of her ungrateful father. In 1788 at the age of 67, Charles died of a stroke. He’s buried in the Vatican crypt. Charlotte died a couple of years later.
Painting of “Bonnie Prince Charlie” aka Prince Charles Edward Stuart (1720-1788), oil on canvas by Louis Gabriel Blanchet, 1738
In Buchan’s book, Nina as a gardener, is writing an article on the narcissus (aka daffodil). The flower gets its name from the Greek “narkosi” meaning “numbness” or “stupor”.
Before Homer, these flowers were used by the Egyptians for their tombs. Whereas the Greek Furies wore narcissi in their matted hair, a look intended to stupefy their victims.
Even Caravaggio was mesmerized by Narcissus, the beautiful Greek youth who, according to Ovid in “Metamorphoses” fell in love with his own reflection and was subsequently turned into a flower bearing his name. His painting “Narcissus” (1590s) is on display at Rome’s Galleria Nazionale d’Arte Antica.
“Narcissus” by Caravaggio (1590s) at the Galleria Nazionale d’Arte Antica
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Posted in art, Fascist Italy, Rome/Italy
Tagged Anni di Piombo, Bathsheba, Bonnie Prince Charles, Brigate Rosse, Caravaggio, Charlotte Stuart, Duchess of Albany, Elizabeth Buchan, grisaille, Hours of Jeanne d'Evreux, King David, metamorphoses, Narcissus, Palazzo Muti in Rome, Two Women in Rome
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Strawberry Moon
Every morning, I open the balcony doors to change the air. The first thing I do is look at the sky. And that’s how I saw the Strawberry Moon. It’s known as the Strawberry Moon because it comes in June and June is traditionally the month for picking strawberries. Every year in Texas, for example, they have the Poteet, Texas Strawberry Festival.
In Italy, the Strawberry Moon will reach its exact peak of fullness on June 30th at 1:56 AM but the moon has already started to puff up. It’s the first full moon after the summer soltice and will hang low while travelling the sky.
I keep reading that, although the moon is called strawberry, it doesn’t turn pink. But who wrote this hasn’t seen the moon I saw this morning from my balcony. The moon I saw looked like a faded strawberry full of light. And, as it wasn’t fully round, it rather looked like a strawberry, too!
Desert Rose
Desert Rose (Little Prince continuation of “Love in the Heavens“)
The Vintage Princess continues her story:
The next morning when I woke up, Toño was already working on his plane. He said that we were running out of water so we needed to get out of the desert as soon as possible. I remembered the knapsack my alien friends had given me when they brought me here. Surprisingly, everything needed to make a suitable breakfast was inside of it. Toño was quite surprised when I handed him a cup of coffee and an éclair.
Most of the day was spent with plane reparations. It was terribly hot and difficult to work. But Toño was determined to get it fixed as soon as possible.
Finally, it was evening and the heat collected by the sand during the day was beginning to dissipate causing the temperature to drop. I threw a blanket on the sand for a picnic dinner then opened my knapsack. I don’t know what kind of technology those aliens used but what I was finding inside my knapsack was incredible. Cheese, cold cuts, bread, a bottle of Chateau Margaux and even a bowl of strawberries! Toño and I ate as we sat on the blanket looking up at the stars. I noticed that Toño had fixed his gaze on one particular star. He said he wondered if that was the home of the Little Prince. Curious to know more, I encouraged him to talk.
Despite all his macho manners, he’d been in the desert alone for too long and needed to externalize his feelings. Because the need to connect with another is basic to human life–Interrelating is how we homo sapiens were able to evolve.
With the assistance of some wine, Toño finally relaxed enough to talk. This is the story he told me:
One morning while Toño was working on his plane, he was shocked to see a young boy in the desert. But even more surprising was the young boy’s immediate request that Toño draw him a lamb. Toño tried but his drawings were always rejected by the young boy. Finally, Toño drew a box and told the young boy that his lamb was inside the box. This time the young boy was delighted with the drawing. After folding it and putting it in his pocket, he began bombarding Toño with questions. But Toño had a few questions he wanted to ask as well. Finally, he learned that the young boy, who’d introduced himself as the Little Prince, came from asteroid B-612. He lived there alone with his rose and three volcanoes (although one was inactive). The rose had appeared on his asteroid unexpectedly and immediately demanded attention. The Little Prince had fallen in love with the rose but her melodramatic nature irritated him. So much so that the Little Prince decided to leave his home and travel the universe. He got lucky and was able to hitch a ride with some wild birds migrating elsewhere.
He travelled to other planets and met other people. The more people he met, the more he believed that people were absurd. Nevertheless, the Little Prince learned something from every place he’d visited. He’d met a king, a businessman, an astronomer, a narcissist, a drunk, and a lamplighter.
The Little Prince also learned new things like the importance of eradicating baobab saplings before they could grow up and take over.
He also developed a passion for sunsets. His planet was so small that, unlike earth, he could see various sunsets a day simply by moving his chair.
But it was meeting the fox that radically changed him.
Life for the Little Prince on earth was very lonely. One morning, under the apple tree, he met a fox. The Little Prince was elated because finally, he believed, he had someone to play with. But no, said the fox. They couldn’t play together because he, the fox, wasn’t tamed. As the little prince had no idea what “tamed “ meant, the fox explained that “tame” meant to establish ties. Because ties make you unique. If you’ve no ties with anyone, you’re no one. “Take me, for example”, said the fox. “For you I’m just like thousands of other foxes. I don’t need you and you don’t need me. But if you tame me”, continued the fox, “a reciprocal need is created. You will become unique for me as I will for you.” And who doesn’t want to be unique to someone?
The conversation with the fox made the Little Prince think about his rose.
The fox complained that his life was monotonous. He hunted chickens and men hunted him. All the chickens were alike and all the men were alike. As a consequence, the fox had become quite bored. But, he said, if the Little Prince would tame him, the sun would finally shine on his life. The fox would be able to distinguish the sound of the Little Prince’s footsteps that would be different from the others. The fox would even see the golden grain of fields differently because the color would remind him of the Little Prince’s curls.
The fox fixed his gaze on the Little Prince with intensity and pleaded: Please tame me.
The Little Prince told the fox that he would like to tame him only he couldn’t because he had things to do. Things like discovering new friends and understanding new things. But the fox responded that one only understands those things that one tames. Men no longer take the time to understand anything making it difficult to create friendships.
Convinced, the Little Prince asked what he had to do to tame the fox. “You must be very patient”, said the fox. “In the beginning, we shall sit some distance from one another and look at each other only from the corner of an eye. We will not talk because words are the source of misunderstanding.”
So, little by little, the Little Prince tamed the fox. But when it was time for the Little Prince to go back home, the fox said “Now I shall cry”. The Little Prince couldn’t understand why the fox had wanted to be tamed knowing that it would cause him sadness. “Whenever I see the golden wheat fields, I’ll think of you,” said the fox.,
“For you to better understand me, you need to go to the Rose Garden and look at all the roses. When you see them altogether, you will understand how unique your rose is.”
The Little Prince went to the Rose Garden as the fox had asked. After much observation, the Little Prince began to understand what the fox was talking about. He stood in front of all the roses and said, “you’re beautiful but empty and no one would be willing to die for you.” This made the roses cry.
Nevertheless, the Little Prince continued: “a passerby could think that my rose is just like you but she’s not. Because she belongs to me. I’ve watered her and sheltered her and have even killed for her. To protect her, I killed caterpillars depriving them of the chance of becoming beautiful butterflies. And because she’s my rose, I’ve listened to her grumble and boast. I’ve listened to her complain just as I’ve listened to her silence.”
Now, fully understanding that he was responsible for his rose, the Little Prince felt an urgency to get home. He went to say goodbye to the fox who’d been waiting for him to return. Because the fox had a fundamental secret to share with him: “It’s only with the heart that one can see rightly; what’s essential is invisible to the eye.”
On their 8th day in the desert, Toño said that they needed to find a well otherwise they’d die of thirst. So Toño and the Little Prince started walking and, despite the immensity of the desert, looked for a well. They walked hours without finding a well. Once it was dark, they sat down to rest. The Little Prince immediately fell asleep. Toño looked at him and felt strong emotions rambling inside of him.
Suddenly Toño, too, felt an urgency to get back to his own rose, back to Carmella. He reflected on the little Prince’s loyalty to his rose and felt ashamed when he compared the little prince’s commitment to his rose with his own lack of commitment to Carmella.
With that thought anchored in his head now, he found the well. It had a pulley, a bucket, and a rope waiting to be used. Although the pulley moaned in its efforts to move, the bucket went straight down and returned full of water. Finally, Toño and the Little Prince drank the water and life started all over again.
The Little Prince and Toño agreed that the Little Prince would return to the place where he landed while Toño finished repairing the plane. But Toño would return the following evening.
The next evening, when he returned, Toño could see the Little Prince sitting on an old stone wall near the well. His legs were dangling above a poisonous snake. Fearing for the Little Prince’s safety, Toño took his pistol and fired. But the snake slid across the sand and disappeared.
Toño ran towards the wall and saw the Little Prince falling off it. He reached the wall just in time to catch the Little Prince. The Little Prince put his arms around Toño who then loosened his scarf, moistened his temples, and gave him some water. But said nothing. Because he could feel the Little Prince’s heart beating like that of a dying bird.
Toño had arrived too late. He froze knowing that something irreparable had happened. He knew now that he would never hear the Little Prince laugh again and this realization was devastating.
There’s something about the vastness of a desert sky that makes you want to fill it up.
The Little Prince told Toño some people just see stars as little lights in the sky but one of those stars was his home. So, in the future when Toño looked at the stars, he will feel the Little Prince’s laughter and this will smooth his sorrows.
Then the Little Prince told Toño not to return to him that evening because he would, at a certain time, seem to be dying. And it would only make Toño suffer.
The Little Prince began to cry. He said he was responsible for his rose who was naïve and, with only four thorns, couldn’t protect herself against the world.
Feeling weak, Toño sat down next to the prince. But the prince got up abruptly. A flash of yellow attacked his ankle. Then the Little Prince remained motionless for awhile before gently falling on the sand.
After Toño finished telling me the story of the Little Prince, he began sobbing incessantly. At first I thought it was because of the Little Prince. But then Toño started saying that the Little Prince’s rose was just like Carmella. The story of the rose and of Carmella became so entangled that the two became one.
Initially, I didn’t understand who this Carmella was then I understood that it was Toño’s wife. Both Toño and Carmella, it seemed, had animated personalities and often tended to clash. And just like the Little Prince who’d left his planet to liberate himself from the presence of the rose, Toño had also left his home to escape from Carmella.
Enough had been said for one day so Toño and I went back to the plane and our makeshift bed and slept the night away.
The next morning when we woke up, Toño was somewhat distant. Maybe he was embarrassed by having exposed so much emotion the night before. But that’s a weird thing about men. They don’t like to talk about their feelings.
The plane was fixed and we had to prepare for departure. The flight took hours but finally we were free of the desert sand. Toño had to go to Paris, which was as good as any place for me to create a new life on Earth.
In Paris, Toño and I said goodbye without much ceremony and I never saw him again.
P. S. on July of 1944, Antoine de Saint-Exupéry disappeared during a reconnaissance mission near Corsica. No plane wreckage or a body were found leaving his disappearance a mystery for years.
“The Little Prince” draws on Saint-Exupéry’s crash in the Sahara in 1935. Here Saint-Exupéry and his pilot miraculously survived the crash. But they risked death due to dehydration. They started hallucinating and would have died had it not be for a Bedouin on a camel passing by who offered them a native rehydration treatment.
“The Little Prince” was written in the U.S. and initially published in English instead of Saint-Exupéry’s native French.
General Charles de Gaulle and Saint-Exupéry didn’t like one another. Although, theoretically, they were both on the same side during the war, they were opposites in terms of priorities. De Gaulle made it impossible for Saint-Exupéry to publish in France. Why was de Gaulle so adamant about blocking Saint-Exupéry ‘s book? Maybe because de Gaulle also like to write? De Gaulle began writing in his early teens. He was particularly into poetry and wanted to be a writer but, instead, joined the army to please his father.
More than political differences, de Gaulle and Saint-Exupéry had a problem of competing egos.
In the spring of 2000, a diver found wreckage from Saint-Exupéry’s plane near the coast of Marseille. Initially, it was believed that Saint-Exupéry had been shot down. But on the pieces found, there were no bullet holes. Some experts say that from tests made of these remains, its believed that his plane made a vertical dive into the sea indicating that Saint-Exupéry deliberately crashed.
Because of its existential vibe, some speculate that “The Little Prince” was a kind of suicide note. Saint-Exupéry was very depressed about having been accused of treason. He also had problems with his health and well as with his wife, Consuelo. The search for meaning in an absurd world could have been too overwhelming for him.
Appropriations for AI will be jinxed.
Related:
Read “The Little Prince” in English online HERE.
The Little Prince Haunts New York, Following Antoine de Saint-Exupéry from the Ritz to the East River +
