Napoleon

Mom called last night after driving around with Eric. He is working on his 50 hours of driving time with an adult for his driver's license. She asked what J.D. and I did Friday afternoon. I said, "We went to the Art Museum and saw an exhibit on Napoleon." Mom repeated, "Oh Napoleon." And in the background I heard Eric exclaim, "I love Napoleon!" At first, this verve surprised me, I'd never heard such enthusiasm from my cousin on the topic of short dictators. Then I realized, "Oh, he's thinking of Napoleon Dynamite."

The exhibit was "Symbols of Power Napoleon and the Art of the Empire Style: 1800-1815."

http://www.stlouis.art.museum/napoleon/Audio_Tour.htm

If you click on the link you can see some of the objects (and hopefully hear something about them too).

Overall, there were many impressive and beautiful things. I personally loved the plates Josephine received (a 100+ piece set) of botanical art. The plates had gold edging, slender crimson rings, and detailed paintings of different species of plants. They showed the whole plant, including roots and seeds. Josephine only had the set for a year before giving it to a relative for her wedding. (Royal Re-gifting!)

The exhibit also featured paintings, jewelry, clothing, furniture, clocks, candelabras, etc. Napoleon's coronation robes were there, along with Josephine's tiny coronation slippers.

Most of all the "Empire style" referenced classical myths. The story of Psyche and Eros was quite popular. For example, during this time they invented the first full-length mirror, called the "psyche." They decorated lamps with images of Psyche, in reference to her desire to see her sleeping lover, and butterflies fluttered everywhere: on furniture, cups, and clothing. Napoleon also utilized palms and oak leaves for symbols of his victory. To emphasize her femininity, Josephine was particularly found of swans ornamenting her furniture. Additionally, I learned that the bee preceded the fleur-de-lis as a symbol of France. And finally, I saw a "breast" cup, which now gives a whole new meaning to "cup size." If you click on the link for the audio tour, you can see the golden cup, which was cast from Napoleon's sister's breast. Anyway, it was a fun way to spend a Friday afternoon, although it didn't involve any funky dancing.

Hats

Trying on interesting hats in Memphis.

6th Anniversary

June 16, 2007 ~ Our day ~

For our anniversary this year J.D. and I went to a restaurant downtown called Savor.

http://www.saucemagazine.com/savor/

J.D. loved his meal, and I loved my dessert. J.D. enjoyed the roast beef so much that he had a difficult time not making appreciative noises while eating -- it was funny. I'd never had a Mediterranean Brownie before, served warm in a flaky crust (sort of like Baklava) with the brownie inside and ice cream on top, but it was very good. After a relaxing and romantic meal, we went to the Moolah Theatre.

http://www.stlouiscinemas.com/moolah/pictures/index.html

I highly recommend it. It was a very entertaining movie-going experience. Sitting on the leather couch just made me giddy... maybe I was just happy overall. Anyway, we had a great time. What a fun day. After the movie we just drove around a little, listening to music and enjoying the summer evening. When we came home, we bought some songs from itunes and danced together in our little apartment. J.D. sang to me. I love his singing voice, it reminds me of the first time we ever really talked (on the way back from a college debate tournament), and he sang to me then. He asked me what sort of music I liked. Then he just started singing lyrics from a song I always wanted someone to sing to me, and he asked me if I liked that song. Being my romantic self, I took this as a sign, but I simply said, "yes." J.D. has always said that his breaking into song that night was such an aberration in his behavior toward any female. I've always believed it was just meant to be. Sometimes the universe really knows what she's doing.

Security Guard Reminisces...

"I used to be Robert Frost, ya know."


--From Hobgoblins, MST3K version.

Today's film: Hobgoblins is an 1980s teenage terror flick. So were is the terror; well, the terror is all over the place, like an exploding can of cheese. What's not to be afraid of here? Can't you feel the suspense created by the gloomy old guy? Additional (more genuine) horror is provided by the "front yard, big-stick fight" where two teenagers spar off with a rake and a gardening hoe. If that doesn't scare you, then the scenes at "Club Scum" certainly will.

Mohawk Watching

For those with distinguished tastes, there's a new past time. This innovative hobby was created by a resident of the Loop area when she wandered out during an outbreak of Punk-rockyness. This hobby is called Mohawk watching, similar the concept of bird watching, but without the feathers. Instead, one will see mammals displaying their unnatural crops of hair. New specimens are constantly emerging. It's not known if they are actually dangerous, so proceed with caution when in the near vicinity of a Mohawk. In addition, try not to infringe too greatly on their natural habitats, which include: bars, concert stages, and illicit locations in general.



Species: Red Mohawk (Pilorubefacio)
Habitat: Blueberry Hill alley
Niche: Bass guitarist
Diet: Unknown



Species: Ratty Black Mohawk (Pilomusmurisfusco)
Habitat: Highly mobile, usually found near females
Niche: Lead Singer
Diet: Believed to be smaller mammals, perhaps squirrels

Ultimately, for any enthusiast, it's difficult to think of the ones that "got away." No one will ever believe the first-person accounts of these encounters, at least, not without photographic evidence. But they are reported to exist:

Species: Spiky Mohawk (Pilospiculum)

Species: Bleach Blond Mohawk (Pilobleach)

They were truly fantastic specimens, unfortunately no proof exists.

Spiritual Quest or Shag Carpet?

June 8-9th: J.D. and I took a quick weekend trip to Memphis. We ate fried green tomatoes on Beale Street. We bought a postcard with Elvis's recipe for peanut butter and banana sandwiches at Graceland. We rode in a horse-drawn carriage pulled by a beautiful horse named Cosmo. J.D. had grits for breakfast Saturday morning. I insisted we go see the Peabody ducks at 11:00 as they walked down their little red carpet. Children kept trying to poke the ducks, poor things. Cliff, an artist on Beale Street, drew a portrait of J.D. and I together for $60. J.D. doesn't have any wrinkles in the picture, and my hair makes me look like a fluffy lion. J.D. likes it though, and he went to have it framed today. A chubby little boy, about 7 years old at Graceland was wearing a skin-tight, spandex Elvis outfit; we thought his parents must be evil.

Overall, Graceland is tacky. I'm struck by the disparity now, between the Paul Simon song, describing it as a type of spiritual destination where "we all will be received" and the line of sweaty tourists having their picture taken in front of the fake mural of the front gate. Certainly, everyone is "received" who can pay the $50 to see Elvis's blue leisure suit, the fuzzy bed, and ceramic tiger. But I'm not sure the entrance fee and separate costs for different "exhibits" is really for "Poorboys." As for Pilgrims, that might be true, certainly there were people who traveled a great distance to see this Mecca of music. "Pilgrims" included the three individuals, two men and a woman from New Orleans, dressed in full Elvis costumes and 60's garb, who just "came up to see Graceland." I found it entertaining that Japanese tourists snapped pictures of them when they were not looking. Actually, the way people treat Graceland today reminds me of how they used to treat the "Holy Land." It reminded me of Clarel, when Melville describes the actual look and impression of the Holy Sepulchre and all the people that visit it. He describes the dust on the tomb, the artificial enclosures and edifices, the exotic clothing, the desire of merchants to make money off pilgrims. Is Elvis and Graceland the new Jesus and Jerusalem? (Swanky).

"Graceland" the name suggests a redemption of one's very soul. The reality is shag carpet on the walls and ceiling. It's a monument to the 1970s. I guess if one can be saved here, one could be saved anywhere. I hold out the potential for it to mean a great deal more to other people. However, I understand now why Paul Simon's song is about "going to" Graceland and not "going through" Graceland. How could he possibly sing about ghosts and lost love, along with stained-glass peacocks and three t.v. sets in a blue and yellow lounge?

The journey and the idea are far more poetic than the destination.

Shakespeare in the park

"Unconventional Director Sets Shakespeare Play In Time, Place Shakespeare Intended"

"I know when most people hear The Merchant Of Venice, they think 1960s Las Vegas, a high-powered Manhattan stock brokerage, or an 18th-century Georgia slave plantation, but I think it's high time to shake things up a bit," Hiles said. "The great thing about Shakespeare is that the themes in his plays are so universal that they can be adapted to just about any time and place."

From the Onion, June 2, 2007 Issue 43•22

Wednesday night we went to see the St. Louis Shakespeare in the park version of Much Ado about Nothing. It's definitely one of my favorite plays. They did an OK job. However, Beatrice was way over the top. She played Beatrice as "sassy" and loud, but I think of her character as more witty and subtle. Anyway, it was still fun. J.D. and I were worried about the "Western" setting of the play -- Shakespeare in the "Old West"? They even began with accents, but those faded out fairly quickly -- thank goodness.

Recreational reading

I just finished Amy Tan's Saving Fish from Drowning. A couple of days before that I read Snow Flower and the Secret Fan by Lisa See. I've been in a very Chinese literature mood. I enjoyed Snow Flower, since it's largely about Nu Shu, a writing invented and used only by women (well, not so much now after the Cultural Revolution). But the book was mainly about the sisterhoods that sustained women in their inner quarters. (I also have an affinity for books that make me cry). Saving Fish had an ending that seemed too cheesy to some extent. But it's difficult for me to not like a book. It was worth reading for the ghostly narrator and the concept of "nats" haunting everything -- all sorts of mischievous spirits that can be human, animal, rocks, trees, etc. Maybe I could use this somehow in my "real" reading, since Chinese literature has a great deal of texts with automatic or trance writing, and many, many ghosts, which might go with my ideas on textual production through mediums. For example, William Blake thought Milton's spirit entered his body through his left foot. Milton would have been a nat! I don't know, there isn't that strong of a connection... but it is an interesting cross-cultural phenomenon. Actually, it's just nice to enjoy reading again.