Halloween

We had a great chat with a pair of Hampshire representatives--one an alumni and the other, a Div 3 student (senior level). They allayed our fears and answered a lot of questions that we had been mulling over as a group. It was terrific to have our minds put to rest along with spending some time with two very confident, thoughtful, talkative, and assured people who were out of a similar mold as our Kitty. Kitty was equally so-- and it was interesting as a parent to see her within this context as confident, articulate, cute and funny with people who were very much oriented the same way. Our trip to Hampshire was well worth the visit.

We visited a small Farm store near the campus, Atkins Farms and were delighted by the offerings within walking distance from the campus. All fresh, and lots of local produce offered...all of them ready for the photoshoot in their pulchritude. I did take pictures (and a lot of them) of their iced cakes and cupcakes which were hilarious and very skillfully done (and affordable). Thank goodness I didnt shame anyone with my antics.

At a quarter of 11, we jumped into the Wonderbus to make a two o'clock tour and information session at SUNY New Paltz which was an interesting option for Kitty as their art facilities are very nice and in some aspects similar to that of Tyler..though not as extensive and as new. The dorms are nice, the student body seemed on the ball and Kitty seemed to identify with the program. Only hiccup is that the portfolio is submitted AFTER you are accepted, and then it is determined wheither you are in the art program or not. We were done around 4:30 and quickly drove by the stone Hugenot houses by the river (amazing)...and then jumped on the road home.

We got in by 9...and heads down on the pillow by 10. We got Alex to school by 6:45 for a Cross Country Meet in Marathon NY which we got on the road for. His form looked great and he is getting to be a better and better runner . He came in 37th in a large pack of well over 100 runners (Rob claims hundreds...) which delighted him to no end...mud bespattered nonethe less.

After the race, it was off to the local ski slope, Greek Peak for their annual ski sale and swap. New jackets all around. Pants, long underwear and gloves...so the home team is ready to hit the slopes this winter in great style and in new equipment. Up until now, they have been skiing with stuff we bought from, yes, antique stores or used sales...and they have never had skis and boots that actually fit and were tailored to them. After six years of skiing, we figure, now is the time.

We just bought candy and candle (and catfood) at Target. The blue lightbulbs are in the light fixtures on the front of the house. We have votives in bags filled with birdseed and a big bowl of wonka candies. So, if the rain and snow do not keep them away, we will have a little treat to hand out. Kitty is gathering with friends. Alex is in costume (as George Harrison on the Abbey Road Album) and the light is fading.

Tomorrow is fall back.
The long nights begin.

roadtrip

We got going early yesterday--easily making Kitty's portfolio showing at the Hartford Art School at 1:30.  It was a positive experience with the assistant dean, showing her work, her new survey and the charms she is creating for her friends for Christmas. There is hope there might be merit money if we submit a portfolio immediately (as jpgs) with HAS. We had a nice look at the student work from their trip to Sicily as well as poking our heads in the ceramics and sculpture studios. Hartford is a very viable option for her.

But then again, with the brilliant skies and blazing leaves we had yesterday, nothing seemed impossible. So, after Hartford, we jumped in the Wonderbus and drove north for about an hour and change to catch the end of the day at Hampshire. What a great experience. We had a chance to see the campus without the prospective students and their parents that the last adventure gave us during the spring Open House we attended. We visited the art sdudios and saw students hard at work on a variety of projects from paintings to a teahouse construction. 

We saw musicians playing in the practice rooms. Quiet dance studios and a film center (newly rennovated and funded by Ken Burns, a Hampshire graduate) were welcoming. We discovered the design/theatre area with a lovely performance space and truly noteworthy seventies architecture. However, the spaces did not strike me as wonderful as the spirit of "why not" that exists on this campus. The people are a buzz with their projects and passions. There are swings hanging from trees that surely were a "why not" moment--and someone going off to the shop to make one. Or the funny bicycles that have been stretched vertically and spray painted for a "why not"> These students seemed to be having a wonderful time doing what they enjoy and love...and it seems to make Hampshire spin. We sat in the first year quad and watched the students go off to the diningroom with a happiness we would want anyone to have. It was a wonderful visit.

We  walked around downtown  Amherst and settled on having a beautiful dinner at Chez Albert. We talked about travel, about opportunities, about learning with Kitty. It was a perfect cap to the end of a very illuminating and exciting day. Today, we revisit Hampshire and head to a two o'clock tour at New Paltz.

More later>>

Wet.

Rained all day. Still without a car. Princess in the tower, week four. It was good having the mobility yesterday...and no mobility today was I had to whomp out a whole bunch of stuff in prep for the 2 days we are taking to see the University of Hartford (portfolio show), revisit Hampshire, and tour New Paltz and see their art setup. We will be back on Saturday post Alex's XC meet. I think the following weekend includes Kitty's play and Alex's last dinner for the team. So, having this jaunt (albeit quick) will start putting some bows on the schools for K.

Worked on a series of images for my client's internal program "Accelerate the Momentum"--going to Getty and making a little deck of 50 images collected and curated to communicate speed,motion, action that verges on abstraction. They turned out nicely...and less "Indy car" than the request...so perhaps we can move the literal expectation from some speeding letters with a spinning wheel...to something a bit more elegant and abstract. But, we will see. I asked for them to select a few images that speak to them...to direct where the type could go. The approach could work. Could is the watchword. We will see.

Was reading about Johannes Kelpius (1673-1708) yesterday. I think he is the key to better understanding Conrad Beissel and the Ephrata movement as he was Beissel's mentor and leader of the community Beissel was a member of, prior to splitting off to found the Community of the Solitary. Kelpius came from a moneyed and educated background. He was university educated (University of Altdorf) and became a follower of Philip Jacob Spener, the founder of the sect called Pietists. He became a follower of Johann Jakob Zimmerman, a Pietist leader and scholar. Pietism was a movement that grew within Lutheranism at a time when the state church emphasized the more formal aspects of worship and church life and tended to be aloof from the religious needs of individuals. Across Germany numerous informal groups developed, centering on prayer, singing, and encouragement in the spiritual life. While many of these groups were quite orthodox, others veered off into mysticism and occultism. Such was the group that gathered around Zimmerman, who wished to find a means of combining science (including astrology),alchemy, Kabbala, Christian theology, and mystical occultism.

When in London, Kelpius met Jane Leade, the head of another mystical sect, the Philadelphians. At 21 yrs. old, his mentor, Zimmerman died and left Kelpius to lead about 40 other followers to to the New World (6 months traveling) and upon stepping on the shores in Philadelphia, walked to Germantown and immediately established his community on the shores of the Wissahickon.

From
Sasche, Julius F. The German Pietists of Provincial Pennsylvania. Philadelphia, 1895.:

Kelpius secured land on Wissahikon Creek (now a park in Philadelphia), where they built a forty-foot cube, which became the all-male group's headquarters and home. Discovering the local children were without a school, he founded a school and became their teacher. He also set up an astrological laboratory where members of the chapter watched the heavens for astrological and other signs of Christ's coming. He developed tuberculosis in the harsh weather, but hoped for Christ to return before he died. Meanwhile, he and the brothers gained some income from providing various healing and occult services for the surrounding community.

When Christ did not appear, Kelpius grew increasingly disappointed, a condition not helped by his failing health. In bed during most of the winter of 1706-07, he composed his most substantive writing and the hymn "A Loving Moan of the Disconsolate Soul in the Morning Dawn." Kelpius finally succumbed to tuberculosis in 1708 at the age of 35. He was succeeded by Conrad Matthai. Because the hope for Christ's return was the only force that held the group together, as that hope died, the group disintegrated. Some of the men who stayed in the area continued as healers, astrologers, and occult practitioners and their presence gave rise to what became known as powwow, or hexing, the peculiar form of folk magic practiced in southeastern Pennsylvania.

Tuesday notes

Bless Chet the lawmowerman. Somehow, we managed to get the timing perfect as he got all those leaves to the side of Camp Street-- because the village leaf guys actually came today and sucked them all up. I think this is a first in five years! Yay! Looks like the White House lawn!

I am currently typing this blog on my phone at Satori, my land of beauty. I am drinking coffee and cooling my jets as the color develops and pretending I am not fascinated and listening to the Aveda color educator lead a class on color, color chemistry, formulations, processing time, progressive color et cetera. But I am. Do you think I could get my next masters degree in haircoloring?

We are planning to spend Friday in Andover MA to revisit Hampshire and return visiting Oneonta. Just trying to relook at these first schools to see them now in context. Should be good to confirm our feelings with mire information. We will be back for Halloween and the candle pumpkin insanity that team C. Puts on. That reminds me... CANDY!

Gotta get to the sink. Later>>

Big show opening, "Pixel and Pen"a n exhibit of digital art and process. Works by Aesthetic Apparatus, Nicholas Blechman, Q Cassetti, Linda Gammell, John Hersey, JamesO'Brien, Ryan Peltier, Andy Powell, Anthony Russo, Nancy Stahl, Gordon Studer, Roman Verostko, and Mick Wiggins. Curated by James O'Brien at the Christensen Center Gallery, Augsburg, MN from Thursday night through January. James 'Brien is an extraordinary illustrator who works digitally put this show together. I am flattered to be in it (my portrait of Kitty is my entry) with some celebrated illustrators.Makes me want to keep at the portrait an hour program. I took some nice shots of Kitty this weekend along with that of Rob, our friend Steve, and of course, Peter H. So, I need to get on it. Plenty of work to do.

Am getting through a load of work...much of it in in the a.m. out by 1. Really more throwing than designing...but this is the expectation.

Must go for now as it is time to heat up dinner for the expectant crew.

Brilliant fall days. Yesterday and today. We got the dishwasher (after 3 weeks) fixed...the part finally came in. Chet the Lawnmower man came and manicured the grass along with dealing with the thick layer of sassafrass and walnut leaves that have dropped. Its funny, but all the walnut trees and walnuts have gone from being on the tree to suddenly all being on the ground. No middle ground for the walnuts.

Travelling with the Curmudegeon

From the culling of the apples, we then went off to Peggy who had a beautiful lunch spread out for us to eat and warm up (dry off) before the second chapter of our travels with Peter, who refers to himself in his business as the Curmudgeon. Peter is seen second from the top in the posted pictures. We went to his cider house and picked up all sorts of containers and milk carriers and put them in Steve's big white truck. Then, off we went to Sayre-- home of the Keystone Cider Mill-- a place that will press your cider and not pasturize it as the point of this besides delicious cider is the creation of Peter's hard cider. It was a beautiful drive. The weather had cleared up to give us a perfect fall afternoon--driving a new route for us through Danby and south through Spencer and VanEtten (two places we know of from the snow reports and school closings in the winter-- but never seen). The trees were blazing, the valleys beautiful and purple.

Turns out, the Keystone Cider Mill was more that what was promised. It was a moment in time. We learned a bit from one of the family members who own the complex...Apparently, the Keystone Cider Mill and the Keystone Rollerskating Rink were at the end of the train (trolley) line and these were built to be an attraction. The cidermill also boasts a stand with a fill your own jug operation along with every sort of apple, pumpkin, squash and gourd for fall. The rollerskating rink is back to basics...a little vertically sided building with windows that illuminate a small but well maintained rink--well worn--but very viable today. We looked around back and it appears that it is heated by its own woodfired/coal fired furnace with it's own building. The cider press is in the back and is a jewel. Apples are brought in and sent through a chute to a crushing process which dumps apples (cores and all) into large, wood framed layers of filtration material which is tidily wrapped up and another layer placed on top. After the layers have been filled, the whole operation pressses (from the bottom up) the apples and the juice streams down the sides (see the picture). This whole operation, a Rube Goldburgian contraption, is driven by all types of belts which are driven by a tractor to the back of the building. Pretty back to basics. So, we unloaded 30 bushels of apples (3 of them were pears), and ended up with 220 gallons of cider. Peter refuses to buy the fruit, but gather it from friends and acquaintances who might not otherwise do anything with their fruit.

While the crushing happened we all gabbed and had a nice social time until it was time to either unload more of the apples from the truck to feed the press or in the case of the strong people, load the final juice into the truck. We talked about our lives, about cider, about wine making, about food, about distilling, about those things we all had in common. There were artists, masons, biochemists, scientists, librarians, information technology people...a range of ideas and people. It was terrific.

We all carried and pushed and pulled and got the cider home to Peter and Peggy's house where Peggy had a wonderful dinner for all of us. What a treat. What fun. We are so lucky to have been included in this learning and tasting time.

Cider time

We got up early yesterday to gather at Peter and Peggy's house for the great annual cider day. We gathered with a very interesting and smart and fiunny group of people to go via caravan to several private residences to gather up all their remaining apples in their yards. One person had a long pole that he shook the branches with -- and the rest of us picked up, examined, pulled off the greenery, wiped off the mud and bagged them. The apples were then sorted again and tied in the regular one bushel coal sacks Peter brought. It was fun to be out with the big old trees in the steady rain and warm, cool humidity.

IF: Fast {colonial style}

Quiet day

The internet has been crawling—slowly, slowly—to finally just stop working today. Erich is on the phone trying to get some help—trouble shooting our connections and the viability of the line. It is amazing to discover how dependent we are on that link to the world, particularly that of mail, for our work, our deliverables, our communication with clients, friends, family, and suppliers. The world stops spinning a bit when the connection hiccups and we find ourselves out of focus for a bit. But, I guess the nice thing is is that these instances teach us that we cannot take this marvel for granted.

Oh look. Now we are back—connected!

We are clocking down the Annual Report for a non-profit research organization we are working with along with a holiday card. We are wrapping up a small mountain of tiny projects for the main client—from consulting on an e-card, to ads and a tradeshow unification between two disparate aspects of the business to presenting a series of colorways for a corporate “little red book” document that is annually issued. Nitty little projects that often have nitty little bits to tweak and change forever, but that is what we are paid for.

I guess we are now in the throes of the peak of the color. The deciduous trees have shed enough foliage to be able to see through the branches/leaves to the darker woods or evergreens behind. The gold color against the dark is breathtaking. And the glimmers of red is remarkable too. Halloweeen approaches, and with that the long winter is in sight.The chestnuts, horse chestnuts and apples are all out…as are the extraordinary number of deer that park themselves on the front lawn as if on contract for some photoshoot about living in the country.

A sad note. Don Ivan Punchatz passed away on Thursday. He leaves an extraordinary legacy as an illustrator, mentor, teacher and friend. Wikipedia says:

Don Ivan Punchatz (born 1936 - October 22, 2009) is an artist who has drawn illustrations for numerous publications including magazines, such as: Heavy Metal, National Geographic, Playboy, and Time. In 1993 id Software hired him to create the Doom video game package art and logo. The result was named the second best game box art of all time by GameSpy [1] His son, Gregor Punchatz, has worked on special effects for several movies, and also created monster sculptures for Doom.

Here is my post from visiting/meeting him in Texas>>

I sent him a note and one or both of My Memento Mori books which he called me about. We had a great chat about how he used his illustration to cope with having stomach cancer--and how interesting and dark work came out of that process. He was enthusiastic, positive and acting as a mentor even to an odd person he briefly met with the Hartford Program. Don was instrumental in putting together the inspiring panel of illustrators in the Dallas/ Fort Worth area for our visit, and had been engaged in that sharing and exchange since Murray and Carol were with the Syracuse ISDP program. He inspired and encouraged, embraced and enthused with his people, the illustrators, and for that, his friendship, strength and quiet humor we are thankful. Bless him.

Wednesday catchup

Rapid fire blog entry this morning. Interesting news. I have my work on Behance, a cool creative resource/social networking site...and I got an interesting job (albeit gratis) that came across the email. There is The Star of Bethnel, a pub in East London that has a poster program that they ask international artists/illustrators to submit art for. They have a good deisgn firm doing the branding--and they came across my work on Behance and want me to do the December poster...anything I want. How fun is that...Rob thinks I should go totally Memento Mori on it... I am thinking more a la valentines with Fraktur angels as it is December and the English don't really have an issue with Christmas as the December Holiday.

Work here has been from fire drill to fire drill...the quick, drop everything approach to no planning and trying amidst the chaos to not let anything slip through the cracks. I have been carless for well on to two weeks which is making me a bit of a princess in the tower--- with work, cooking and general house stuff keeping me land locked. Timmy, our painter, spent the better part of Monday getting a small cherry picker into the back yard to paint the roof trim of the house. As I hung up the phone with another rush completed, my mother in law came in to tell me " Timmy is up in the air". What? And I need to be the adult for this too? So, I went outside to see that yes, Timmy was up in the air--with the cherry picker somehow stuck--locked so the mechanism wouldn't work. Everybody was hanging back...and yes, I had to be the adult. So, Timmy and I talked it through...and I tried a few things and managed to get the up/down mechanism unlocked so that we could get him down. Then, it was back to the other emergencies...not as scary as that...but still scary for the two hour turn arounds/bailouts that keep coming.

That is why the star project seems so fun. No emergency there.

Kitty is crazed with her play practices. Alex with Cross Contry training and trying to make up the work he lost last week with his ill days. Rob has left every morning before seven and this morning at five to get to NYC and back today. Its pretty much everyone nose to the grindstone.

This weekend we have a celebrated apple picking/cider pressing event that we have been included in...which should be interesting and fun. But first, we need to get through this week.

The rose is perhaps the most mystical and beautiful of symbols to Rosicrucians. The rose possesses both beauty and pain; one can not have the fragrant blossom without the accompanying thorns. This concept of dual nature pervades the writings of both the Kelpius settlement of 1694 and the Eighteenth-Century Community of the Solitary at Ephrata. At both settlements Rosicrucian symbolism and concerns were part of the organized belief structures of the members. As with the rose, so too in life we must take the good with the bad, the cross with the crown, the dark with the light, the pain with the joy.

A most beautiful and symbolic poem on the rose was written in the mid-eighteenth-century by Conrad Beissel, known as Vater Friedsam, Father Peaceful.

The rose is perhaps the most mystical and beautiful of symbols to Rosicrucians. The rose possesses both beauty and pain; one can not have the fragrant blossom without the accompanying thorns. This concept of dual nature pervades the writings of both the Kelpius settlement of 1694 and the Eighteenth-Century Community of the Solitary at Ephrata. At both settlements Rosicrucian symbolism and concerns were part of the organized belief structures of the members. As with the rose, so too in life we must take the good with the bad, the cross with the crown, the dark with the light, the pain with the joy.

A most beautiful and symbolic poem on the rose was written in the mid-eighteenth-century by Conrad Beissel, known as Vater Friedsam, Father Peaceful.

From Lucy Carroll's article on the Symbolism in Conrad Beissel's hymn

from the sketchbook--color next.

Changing of the old guard?

“To say that ‘literate’ and ‘intelligent’ is elitist - that’s insane, the way people sling around ‘arugula’ to be synonymous with highfalutin,’’ says [Laura] Shapiro. “This is another nail in the coffin of literate journalism.’’ from The Mourning After (boston.com)
How sad. I thought with Ruth Reichl at the helm of Gourmet Magazine, there was a chance that this old school magazine could pull through the crash and burn that is going on in print media today. Reichl, an author and realistic food person is an inspiration in her energy and approach to her writing and passion for food, I thought would bring a spirit and splash to this tried and true publication. Granted, I thought that Gourmet was for "grown ups" until I had 6 weeks of being at home with my new baby daughter--sleepless and living in the moment. I found that I loved Gourmet and the New Yorker for their little mental vacations they took me on...and the recipes that I began to cook out of Gourmet were easy, delicious and inspiring me to go further, to crack open more books, to try the untried. It got me through the early days of mom hood and frankly was part of my evolution as a cook for a new little group of eaters.

Since then, Gourmet has been a monthly occasion in my life. Now, it won't be.

Interestingly, in looking around a bit about the demise of Gourmet, I ran into some interesting articles

Gourmet Editor Ruth Reichl: Print Magazines Are Toast by Henry Blodget on the Business Insider page
Ruthie in Wonderland: Ruth Reichl Reflects on Conde Nast by John Koblin from the New York Observer
Clearing the Table by Deborah Solomon, New York Times

From the Koblin article

“That kind of luxury that we all had [at Conde Nast] is probably a thing of the past. The new business realities have changed the life at Condé Nast. I think print magazines as we know them will cease to exist...”

“I do think that there is going to be something that will be very exciting and that will incorporate video, instant shopping,” she said. “I think that the rich experience that is in magazines will likely move to another platform. It won’t be online. It will be what magazines are now, tools for living and inspirational and intellectually rich. I think magazines in that sense won’t be going away.”

As an illustrator, the great publishing industry changes. The magazines and newspapers that were solid clients for articles, book reviews, Sunday supplements and all else are dying. So, where does that leave us, the great great grandchildren of Rockwell and Howard Pyle-- the great illustrators of their time? Where will the painters go? I guess, children's book and advertising, portraiture and gallery work. Holiday cards? A santa or a teddy bear as a client told me..."thats what their Chairman loves" (OY!).

Now, if we look at Will Bradley, he illustrated for publications and then some...Bradley might have made the jump to web design and imagery or even flash animation. There is work there. I mean, if you have the wits and imagination that illustration training should hone, this new media beyond paint, beyond ink on paper has room.

I had the opportunity to work with a client and a consulting company of the development of an e-card for the Holidays. These guys gave us story boards which we didnt approve and immediately launched into a direction we had never even seen...fully developing it in flash with this easy listening "fashion show music box music"--so middle of the road and tacky. I had to pull it back and talk about Tiffany and Company, the "little black dress with pearls" positioning (which in the old days might be associated with class..and today, no one gets it...so the whole "its like this and this and this" gets you there in a less abbreviated way). These guys are computer jocks--not problem solvers.For really good designers or illustrators thinking about the problems, thinking about transitions and messages, about the story and the impresssion is part of their training, their make up , their MO. It was illuminating to work with these functionaries that we essentially had to "move their hands with our own" to get the changes to move it towards good...not even great. But back to the premise...There is work...it just might not be the tradtional "old school" venues that many of us hoped would bloom and blossom for us, but new trees, new orchards where the fruit has yet to be discovered. And picked.

whirl

I am in a miasma of ideas, things to do, things not to do, packages to send, people to call, chores to do, clothes to fold, leftovers to reconfigure. The sublime and the ordinary and somehow I am stuck dead in the middle. A bit stunned, but in the middle. The ideas that are whirling vacillate between the biography I am reading in Julia Child and the informal research I am doing on the German Pietist in Pennsylvania -- their life, their lifestyle, their art, their healing practices, their philosophy...so the middle is an odd place to be. The only similarity that these topics have is that it about people who have strong beliefs and are committed to doing the right thing with those beliefs.

Julia Child was someone who pursued her love of eating to that of cooking to translating that discipline of French cooking for the layman to experience. She introduced measuring and repetition to the processes that were art to the French. She was always drilling down and asking herself if the newly wed wife who was cooking from her book could follow her writing. She refused to dumb down her roast chicken to a mere 24 words (as her competition did)--simplifying but not compromising her beliefs and not giving the editors a "ladies magazine" approach to the cooking she loved and believed in.

The Pietist....No compromise, all passion...afterall, they were Germans. Everything exuded their belief from their art, to the healing invoking the Virgin or Jesus, to the blessings on their houses. They were not dour in those beliefs. Conrad Beissel (1690-1768), the founder of the Seventh Day Dunkers (another name for the German Baptist Brethren),a hermit and then founder of the semi- monsastic community at Ephrata, wrote hymns galore. (I have found there was a real flourishing of hymn writing in Pennsylvania during this period with the Quakers, Moravians etc. to name a few groups)). His hymns were then embellished and designed within the community and either hand done in a scriptorium at Ephrata (one of the tasks the sisters did) or printed (Ephrata had one of the most significant presses/printing operations at the time...working alongside Ben Franklin who also printed some of Beissel's philosophy tracts). These hymns were embellished with flowers, crowns, birds, angels/spirit guides, hex marks, little faces, sometimes unicorns, sometimes lions. All in brilliant red, yellow, blue, brown and black. The same color palette and spirit we see, not in the spaces at Ephrata, but in the Peter Wentz Farmstead with the brilliant yellow walls and bright blue built in cabinetry. And the enormous black polkadots adorming those bright yellow walls. Nothing dour there.
---
Alex has pink eye and at the doctors as we speak. Kitty still sleeps (I am going to wake her up as there is work to be done). Rob and I are making lists of things to be done in town and here from bulb planting to spackling and sanding walls. I think th ere is lots of work to be done...and my time here is needed elsewhere.

ps. The images of Penelope and the Gorgon I posted yesterday are sketches for a theatre poster for a future Hangar production....

Society of Woman in the Wilderness.

From Ephrata, Hotbed of Religion>>

Quite as curious as the experiment at Ephrata was the earlier colony on the Wissahickon, the Contented of the God-Loving Soul. This was better known as the Society of the Woman in the Wilderness because of its belief that the Woman in the Wilderness, mentioned in Revelation 12:14- 17 , foretold the second coming of Christ. Led by Johannes Kelpius, a mystic of the University of Altdorf, the Contented of the God-Loving Soul reached Bohemia Landing on the Chesapeake on the 12th of June, 1694. Clothed in coarse pilgrim garb or in the dress of German university students, they struck out for Philadelphia, arriving there the 23rd. That night, only a short way out of Penn's new city, they built a bonfire on a hill to celebrate Midsummer Night's Eve and scattered the burning brands down the hillside. The next morning they went on to Germantown, there to await the millennium. On the Ridge, a wooded hill above the Wissahickon, they built a log structure forty feet square, with a large room to serve as a chapel and small cells as bedrooms for the brethren. On the top of the building was an observatory equipped with a telescope or perspective glass. There each night one of the brethren watched the heavens for some celestial sign of the Bridegroom's coming "that their lamps might be trimmed and burning." Near-by, in a small cave to which he could retire and meditate, Kelpius set up his hermitage. In a small clearing by the monastery they planted a garden of medicinal herbs, possibly the first botanical garden in America.

Theirs was a monastic settlement; the brethren took vows of celibacy. Many of the votaries were learned men who had been driven from the German universities because of their unorthodox religious views. A smell of alchemy hung about this colony in which horoscopes were cast and the use of the divining rod was not unknown. When the year 1700 came and went, and the millennium on which they had counted did not take place, some of the brethren lost heart. Yet the following year they felt for a short time that their hopes were about to be realized. In this particular year they attached great importance to their celebration of Midsummer Night's Eve because it was their seventh Midsummer Night's Eve in America. According to a legend recorded later at Ephrata, the brethren saw a vague white moving figure in the air just as they were about to light their fire. As it came closer to them they saw that it was an angel, gloriously fair. Receding for a moment into the deep shadows of the hemlocks that towered above, it reappeared so that again they were able to see that it was an angel, "the fairest of the lovely," before it melted away into the forest. The enthralled votaries fell to their knees, feeling certain that the Heavenly Bridegroom was about to appear. Prayers were held until midnight, when the fires were lighted. Then with incantations the brethren flung the fiery embers down the hill. Throughout the rest of the night the brethren prayed. On the third night the apparition was seen once more and then it vanished forever. After this the brethren lost hope, and the community began to diminish until Kelpius's death in 1708 at the early age of thirty-five brought it to an end. Kelpius was buried in the garden at sunset to the chanting of De Profundis. As his body was lowered into the grave there was let loose a white dove that flew to the heavens and vanished over the hemlocks. Within a few years the abandoned monastery fell into ruins. Today the Society of the Woman in the Wilderness is only a memory.

WPA posters from Katherine Milhous courtesy of WPA Posters which links to the Library of Congress WPA Archive (!)

To Win at Every Game One Engages In
Tie the heart of a bat with a red silken string to the right arm, and you will win every game at cards you play.
Long Lost Friend,(Der Lange Verborgene Freund)by Johann Georg Hohman,
published first in Pennsylvania in 1820

We have bats behind the shutters of the Camp House-- so the temptation to wear them on my arm is huge as Pat the Bugman (our exterminator) says there is no way to get the bats when they are happily hiding there. No way to trap them, no way to shoo them away.
So, in the tradition of the Pennsylvania Germans, we can tie their hearts to our arms with a red string. Just like the Kabala, the Powwowers love red string.

I was reading a bit on Conrad Beissel and his poetry, particularly the hymn about roses linking a year of a rose to the year of the Solitary within the Ephrata Cloister and am working out a little rosy picture to go with it. However after reading this very detailled description of Ephrata, it's traditions and lifestyles: Ephrata, Hotbed of Religion>> it is far more severe and less rosy than my fantasy picture I drew today...However, the reality is far more severe and interesting than I could have ever imagined. Fabulous...and worth our talking about tomorrow. Its late and the day has gotten away from me.
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Alex is on day two of the flu--but is better. Kitty is busy with plays and work. Rob is busy with the Ennion Society meeting/dinner and the Seminar on Glass this week...and I am just slugging away.

work in progress....