Words + Images

She may be more famous for Mrs Dalloway and Orlando, but it is her Blue & Green that I love the most.  Imagine that.

BLUE & GREEN

GREEN
THE POINTED FINGERS of glass hang downwards. The light slides down the glass, and drops a pool of green. All day long the ten fingers of the lustre drop green upon the marble. The feathers of parakeets­their harsh cries­sharp blades of palm trees­green, too; green needles glittering in the sun. But the hard glass drips on to the marble; the pools hover above the desert sand; the camels lurch through them; the pools settle on the marble; rushes edge them; weeds clog them; here and there a white blossom; the frog flops over; at night the stars are set there unbroken. Evening comes, and the shadow sweeps the green over the mantlepiece; the ruffled surface of ocean. No ships come; the aimless waves sway beneath the empty sky. It’s night; the needles drip blots of blue. The green’s out.

BLUE
The snub-nosed monster rises to the surface and spouts through his blunt nostrils two columns of water, which, fiery-white in the centre, spray off into a fringe of blue beads. Strokes of blue line the black tarpaulin of his hide. Slushing the water through mouth and nostrils he sings, heavy with water, and the blue closes over him dowsing the polished pebbles of his eyes. Thrown upon the beach he lies, blunt, obtuse, shedding dry blue scales. Their metallic blue stains the rusty iron on the beach. Blue are the ribs of the wrecked rowing boat. A wave rolls beneath the blue bells. But the cathedral’s different, cold, incense laden, faint blue with the veils of madonnas.

I have a “thing” about the color blue.  As I have written in the past, growing up in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains has certainly shaped my color-love.  And, then there’s the fact that my mother loved all things blue.  One of the items she treasured most in life was a small cobalt blue candy dish that my father gave her.  Every now and then I tinker with a neverending essay about the color blue, and I usually start by searching the internet for images that will both inspire me and ground me.  A search for “blue butterflies” introduced me to the website of Peg Steunenberg.  A visual treat for sure.  http://www.pegsteunenberg.com/index.html

The Cats’ Arabian Nights was first published by D. Lothrop of Boston in 1881.  It was written by Abby Morton Diaz and illustrated by a number of artists.  I found the book in a small antiques shop while traveling through Virginia.  The images hooked me more so than the book’s  story which is a feline rendition of the classic Arabian Nights tale.  Since returning to Boston, I have begun to research the author (who had strong and important Boston connections) and the illustrators. It has been much easier to find information on Ms. Diaz, e.g. http://womenshistory.about.com/library/etext/bl_townsend_diaz.htm

Of all the illustrators listed in the book, Lizzie Lawson intrigues me most.  Her images moved me to buy the book.  I think because her drawings seem filled with such emotion.

I was browsing in the Curious George bookstore in Harvard Square when this book called out to me.  The story is sweet and simple, about a young child trying to find Mama.  The smoky hued illustrations depict a Korean town circa 1938.  Written in both Korean and English, I bought it as a gift for a young Korean American friend of mine but I think its quite suitable as a gift for anyone of any age who enjoys being transported by words and images to a different world.