Monthly Archives: February 2014

Ephemeral

Man in the Moon

Here in Lake Worth it’s our 20th Annual Street Painting Festival this weekend, and it is raining as I write this. Just a bit, a little shower with some lightning in the distance, just enough to keep us on our toes. But it always rains during the Street Painting Festival. God’s way, perhaps, of saying, Yep, that’s a pretty nifty trick you Lake Worthers have come up with: closing down the main streets downtown and creating exquisite artworks on the pavement, paintings made of chalk on asphalt… but I’m still in charge.

There is an old joke my grandfather used to tell about two guys at an outdoor concert. They’ve gone to hear the local orchestra, no doubt playing something by Puccini or Rossini, but suddenly there is a rumble of thunder and a burst of lightning and the sky opens up and the rain scatters everyone, orchestra and audience alike. The two friends are drenched. Under cover of a rooftop in the square, one friend says to the other, “Eh, se Dio non capisce di musica ….” That is, “If God doesn’t understand about music….” well then, what can you do?

So maybe God doesn’t understand about art. There are, nonetheless, great masterpieces created each year on the streets of Downtown Lake Worth, and it is a great lesson in letting go, for these artworks are as ephemeral as they get. They last only until the next rain, and even if is should stay dry for a few days, as soon as the traffic returns to town the artwork is under foot and under wheels and dust quickly returns to dust.

Last year’s Saturday night rain at the Street Painting Festival was a real gully-washer. This year, so far, it is just a light rain, a few passing showers. Nothing more than an annoyance, but still, a reminder. Meanwhile, the air tonight smells of rain, the smell of ozone carried on the wind. The smell is clean, fresh, and it is carried over the streets of Lake Worth, over the rooftops, through the palms and orange trees, across the lagoon, over the dunes and out onto the deep dark Atlantic.

Image by Convivio neighbor Guy Icangelo, who photographed this street painting on Lake Avenue. This year’s Street Painting Festival has an old movie theme, and this iconic image is from an early silent film. Do you recognize it?

 

 

Concordia

Pompeii_family_feast_painting_Naples

A simple post today, a reminder that tomorrow, the 22nd of February, is the Roman festival of the goddess Concordia. It is a feast of goodwill that was known also as Charistia. This is a day for folks to reconcile their differences, to make amends, and it was traditionally celebrated as a meal amongst family and friends, with one purpose: the settling of all disputes that cause discord. Harmony is the goal.

When I ponder all the people in my family lore, all the ancestors, all the folks in old sepia and black and white photographs, and when I think of all the stories that accompany the faces, I think about Concordia and this very special day set aside for the resolution of differences. I think about the people we remember who never had a pleasant or positive thing to say, and I think about the people we remember with kindness, and I know exactly into which camp I hope the people who come afterwards place me.

Image: “Convito,” a fresco painting from Pompeii, now in the Museo Archeologico Nazionale (Naples, Italy), before 79 AD, [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

 

Simple Pleasures

woman-baking-bread-1854

Think of the fragrance of baking bread wafting though the house on a cold February day, and there you have the essence of an ancient Roman festival called Fornacalia. It had no set dates but occurred each year in February by proclamation, and always was completed by the seventeenth day of the month, today. The festival honored bread, ovens, and the oven goddess, Fornax, and was celebrated to help insure that grain would be plentiful and that bread would emerge from ovens without being burnt.

A celebration based in simplicity. How basic and yet how pleasing a fresh baked loaf of bread is, no? Ponder this and bake a loaf yourself or stop at your local baker and pick up a crusty loaf for your supper. This, in fact, is probably more in keeping with the spirit of ancient times, when ovens were communal. A loaf of bread, a jug of wine, and thou. Our “ceremony of a day” concept, distilled to its purest essence.

The Romans had another February festival that you may like to ponder, as well, especially if there is any strife amongst friends or family members in your life: the feast of Concordia, which occurs on the 22nd of February, at which friends and family would gather for a meal to settle all disputes. Time is short and pride of little value. It is up to you to take the first step toward harmony.

Image: Une femme fair cuire le pain (Woman Baking Bread) by Jean-Francois Millet, oil on canvas, 1854, [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.