Saturday Morning, February 8, 2025
I think that I shall never see, a poem as lovely as a tree
This man runs his hand across the surface. Beneath the bark a grain beckons. Locked inside is a table waiting creation. Another touches the tree and feels an energy; he then releases onto his canvas. Yet another eyes the tree from top to bottom while revving his chain saw. Same tree. Endless possibilities. It is so, well, human. One of our endearing qualities.
Nature Form & Spirit, signed by Mira Nakashima, 2003.
Beneath the bark a grain beckons.
In the 1950's movie, Twelve Angry Men, a jury must decide the fate of a young man charged with murder. The case is clear, the outcome obvious. Guilty as charged, except the first vote cast tallies eleven guilty, one innocent. There's one in every crowd, complains a juror bent on early decision.
Throughout the plot, as the dominoes fall, each juror realizes, in truth, the boy is innocent. Like a twelve-piece jigsaw puzzle, one-by-one, jurors view the boy beyond initial prejudice, culminating in separate epiphanies. The beauty in the story just this. All pieces fit, held together by consensus. Twelve jurors. Twelve independent perspectives. The underlying principle underscoring the jury system. A setting where individuality marries plurality. How human. How delicious. How classic.
Kunio Matsumoto, Japanese architect and jewelry designer
who affiliated with Trifari in the 1970's.
Auction includes a large selection of gold, silver, and designer costume jewelry from one closed home.
Artificial Intelligence
An oxymoron.
How engineers slave for the dream. Almost a touch from the hand of God. Frankenstein. And looked how that worked out. Bless you Mary Shelley. As humans we have the insatiable desire to build machines imaging us. These contraptions can drive a car, fly a plane, express our thoughts. With this gift, we are promised a brighter future, released from the mundane. Remember the day we were promised computers would allow more free time and save paper? Tell that to our tree. The best laid plans...
Christopher Willett, Sun Up. View from New Hope to Lambertville, NJ,
painted on Masonite, 5"x 5". One of three small landscape paintings.
Artificial intelligence is a marvel. With this tool we can achieve the unthinkable. No doubt. The results will be the stuff of science fiction. But how far will we go before we crush individuality? The question begs an answer. None offers one, including artificial intelligence. Do we really need every nook and cranny scouted for us? What's wrong with turning onto an unknown highway. Nothing, if you are human. Serendipity is the purest form of humanity. Coincidences. Chance meetings. They allow for surprises, fresh interpretations, satisfaction.
Ike-a-Doos
In the 1950's, there was a most unusual toy. Dating back to the 1920's, the game exploded with the baby boomers. Small figures could be constructed with pop-together joints. Humans with strange Ike-a-Doo heads, and so forth. Lazy-Ike. Dopey-Ike. Ike-a-Roo. There was a gameboard, complete with spinner. Expectancy in outcome. But where was the fun in that? The best part of the toy was making any conceivable figure you wanted. With all the game pieces laid out, five people could make five different creatures. I did it my way. Unpredictable zeal. How we loved doing this, and still do. A human trait bubbling with emotion and individuality. Differences strength character. It defines us all. Thankfully, our tree still grows in Brooklyn.
Poems are made by fools like me, but only God can make a tree.*
Doors open at 8 AM. Auction starts at 9 AM. PA AU 1265L [bb]
* Joyce Kilmer, Trees, first published in Poetry: A Magazine of Verse, 1913