April Redux-2012-Eggs

easter-eggs-inspired-by-lichtenstein-from-artclubblog21

In 2012 I began a series called artratcafe CAFE. It was slow-food art with a dash of tasty humour, a pinch of the creative unusual and a seasoning of literature with a culinary twist. It was the Mad Hatter’s Tea Party every afternoon and Tom Waits on the wonky old bar piano every night.

I haven’t posted from artratcafe CAFE for a very long time. I’m thinking I might resurrect it, dust off the juke box, buy some new lumber-jack table cloths and refill all the candle holders with heavenly beeswax.

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This is a new series, revisiting posts from the pasts of each month. This April 2012 post was all about eggs and Easter:

“Because it’s almost Easter, eggs are on our mind and feature on our over easy-menu this week at artratcafe CAFE.

girl with eggs

Our fancy lightly turns to spring, sensual longing, fertility and well, yes, the sex life of plants, hens and rabbits.

The name ‘Easter’ derives from Eostre or Ostara, the Great Mother Goddess of the ancient Saxon people of Northern Europe. She was the fecundity of spring symbolized in carnal pleasure, pregnancy and birth. In pagan times an annual spring festival was held in her honour and continues to this day wearing a Christian mask. Ostara was a playful goddess whose reign over the earth began in the spring when the Sun King journeyed across the sky in his chariot, heralding the end of winter. Ostara descended to earth then, appearing as a beautiful maiden with a basket of bright and colourful eggs. Her magical companion was a rabbit who accompanied her as she brought new life to plants, flowers, and the earth by hiding her eggs in the fields.

405px-ostara_by_johannes_gehrts1

The egg serves as a representation of new life. It stands for the renewing power of nature and by extension the attraction between female and male that results in new life. And this shell lead us, scrambling, to the following eggstremely sensual eggstract from the book:

1933 Was A Bad Year by John Fante:

“Dorothy was at the sideboard, breaking eggs and spilling them into a bowl. Just watching the oval things crack in her white fingers and spill forth with a golden plop created a series of small explosions inside me. My calves shuddered as she scrambled them with a fork and they turned yellow like her hair. She poured a bit of cream into the mixture and the silken smoothness of the descending cream had me reeling. I wanted to say, ‘Dorothy Parrish, I love you’, to take her in my arms, to lift the bowl of scrambled eggs above our heads and pour it over our bodies, to roll on the red tiles with her, smeared with the conquest of eggs, squirming and slithering in the yellow of love”.

 smiley eggs

 

Image Credits from top in order:

Easter Eggs inspired by Lichtenstein – artclubblog21.

Ostara by Johannes Gehrts. 1884.

Victorian Woman with Eggs and Smiley Toast from Google Images. Origins unknown.

 

Eggs of Isis

Eggs of Isis 4

Isis

goddess

burning desire

fecund magic flames

igniting life’s passion

as over and over

 she conjures

surrender

wonder

love

we are

her eggs

her fruitful

full ripe bodies

 fertile  gardens of longing

surfaces penetrating sighing depths

parting hidden veils of loving

 exploring moist heat

soft caverns of fire

exiting

entering

closing

 opening

 opening more

 inviting us to dance

this waltz of birth and death and love

again and again and again

in blood and tears

and laughter

our shells

slowly

dissolving

into

rounded arcs

of light

 

acrylic mixed media painting and poem by clinock.

Redux – With The Sun In My Eyes (images from San Miguel De Allende, Mexico). More eggs….

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20120226-231257.jpg

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My first post from San Miguel De Allende, Mexico is about one of the most popular celebrations in Catholic countries and cities: the Easter Carnival. This is a tradition that is held every Sunday prior to Ash Wednesday before Lent. In San Miguel in the 1970s and before the tradition took place on the Jardin, the central plaza of the town and consisted of the women walking in the opposite direction to the men, who gave their chosen woman a flower or asked permission to sprinkle confetti from an empty eggshell on their heads – requesting them to be their girlfriend. The girls were always in the company of their mothers and sisters.

This the beginning of spring here, in San Miguel, and also the start of religious and secular activities leading up to Easter. Today on the Jardin my favorite local ritual took place, definitely derived from pagan origins. Male and female children and teens chased each other with bags full of painted eggs that were empty of the usual content and filled with confetti (although the young jokers in the crowd filled them with tempera paint powder or flour). Except for the little kids it is a blatant courting and fertility ritual and loosely continues the tradition from the 70s and before. Boys chased girls and visa versa and smashed eggs on each others heads, covering each other and the entire ground of the Jardin with inches thick multi coloured confetti. It was hilarious and joyful to watch and no one was exempt, I was just sitting on a bench taking photographs and I was egged three times and completely covered in confetti. I watched the kids running after each other around the outside of the Jardin, screaming, laughing and egging while the adults danced together around the central bandstand to mariachi music under blue skies and hot sun.

I know we have much to be thankful for in the north but I think so often, when I am here, that our northern culture is missing so much, we have so few gathering places or deeply traditional events like this on the Jardin – to dance, play music and connect with each other, and we have nothing to match this eggstatic ritual of joy in celebrating spring and courtship.

artratcafe CAFE – Eggs…Redux

Because it is spring here in Vancouver, and almost Easter, eggs are on my mind and featured on the Cafe’s menu this week.

Our fancies turn lightly to spring and sensual longing and fertility and well, yes, sex.

The name Easter comes from Eostre or Ostara, the Great Mother Goddess of the Saxon people in Northern Europe. Ostara represented spring fecundity and the love and carnal pleasure that leads along that flower strewn path and in pagan times an annual spring festival was held in her honour. Ostara was a playful goddess whose reign over the earth began when the Sun King journeyed across the sky in his chariot, heralding the end of winter. Ostara appeared as a beautiful young woman carrying a basket of brightly coloured eggs. Her magical companion was a rabbit who accompanied her as she brought new life to dying plants and flowers by hiding her eggs in the fields.

The egg is a symbol of new life. It stands for the renewing power of nature and by extension the attraction between female and male that results in new growth and fertility. This segue shell lead us to the following eggstremely sensual extract from the book: 1933 Was A Bad Year by John Fante:

“Dorothy was at the sideboard, breaking eggs and spilling them into a bowl. Just watching the oval things crack in her white fingers and spill forth with a golden plop created a series of small explosions inside me. My calves shuddered as she scrambled them with a fork and they turned yellow like her hair. She poured a bit of cream into the mixture and the silken smoothness of the descending cream had me reeling. I wanted to say, ‘Dorothy Parrish, I love you’, to take her in my arms, to lift the bowl of scrambled eggs above our heads and pour it over our bodies, to roll on the red tiles with her, smeared with the conquest of eggs, squirming and slithering in the yellow of love”.

Image Credits from top in order:

Easter Eggs inspired by Lichtenstein – artclubblog21.

Ostara by Johannes Gehrts. 1884.

Victorian Woman with Eggs and Smiley Toast from Google Images. Origins unknown.

artratcafe CAFE – Eggs…

Because it is spring, and almost Easter, EGGS are on our mind and featured on our literary menu this week. Our fancy lightly  turns to spring and sensual longing and fertility and well, yes, sex.

The name Easter comes from Eostre or Ostara, the Great Mother Goddess of the Saxon people in Northern Europe. And she certainly represented spring fecundity, and the love and carnal pleasure that leads to fecundity. In pagan times an annual spring festival was held in her honour. Ostara was a playful goddess whose reign over the earth began in the spring when the Sun King journeyed across the sky in his chariot, heralding the end of winter. Ostara came down to earth then, appearing as a beautiful maiden with a basket of bright colourful eggs. Ostara’s magical companion was a rabbit who accompanied her as she brought new life to dying plants and flowers by hiding her eggs in the fields.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The egg serves as a representation of new life. It stands for the renewing power of nature and by extension the attraction between female and male that results in new life. Which shell lead us, of course, to the following eggstremely sensual extract from the book: 1933 Was A Bad Year by John Fante:

“Dorothy was at the sideboard, breaking eggs and spilling them into a bowl. Just watching the oval things crack in her white fingers and spill forth with a golden plop created a series of small explosions inside me. My calves shuddered as she scrambled them with a fork and they turned yellow like her hair. She poured a bit of cream into the mixture and the silken smoothness of the descending cream had me reeling. I wanted to say, ‘Dorothy Parrish, I love you’, to take her in my arms, to lift the bowl of scrambled eggs above our heads and pour it over our bodies, to roll on the red tiles with her, smeared with the conquest of eggs, squirming and slithering in the yellow of love”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Image Credits from top in order:

Easter Eggs inspired by Lichtenstein – artclubblog21.

Ostara by Johannes Gehrts. 1884.

Victorian Woman with Eggs and Smiley Toast from Google Images. Origins unknown.

With The Sun In My Eyes (images from San Miguel De Allende, Mexico)#1.

I have been away from Art Rat Cafe for awhile, traveling in Mexico and so full of experiencing every moment of heat and sun and the fascination of a different culture that, except for one poem from the coast I have rarely thought about blogging. However, I am settled into San Miguel for awhile and able to begin to sift through the daily and amazing sensual input of sounds, smells, colours, textures and sights that I encounter on every street and around every corner. So this is a good time to share again, and the simplest way I can share is through my third eye, my camera. I will begin these postings by publishing one or more images a day, sometimes with words of explanation and sometimes allowing the photos to speak for themselves.
My first post is about one of the most popular celebrations in Catholic countries and cities: the Carnival. This is a tradition that is held every Sunday prior to Ash Wednesday before Lent. In San Miguel in the 1970s the tradition took place on the Jardin, the central plaza of the town and consisted of the women walking in the opposite direction to the men, who used to give them a flower or ask them permission to sprinkle confetti from an empty eggshell on their heads and requested them to be their girlfriend. The girls were always in the company of their mothers and sisters. The photos and description of the modern equivalent to this tradition follow.

20120226-230036.jpg

20120226-230418.jpg

20120226-231257.jpg

20120226-231352.jpg
This the beginning of spring here and also the start of religious and secular activities leading up to Easter. Today on the Jardin my favorite local ritual took place, definitely derived from pagan origins. Children and teens chased each other with bags full of painted eggs that were empty of the usual content and filled with confetti (although the young jokers in the crowd filled them with tempera paint powder or flour). Except for the little kids it is a blatant courting and fertility ritual and loosely continues the tradition from the 70s. Boys chased girls and visa versa and smashed the eggs on each other’s heads, covering each other and the entire ground of the Jardin with multi coloured confetti. It was hilarious to watch and actually no one was exempt, I was egged three times and completely covered. I watched the kids running after each other around the outside of the Jardin, screaming and laughing while the adults dance together around the central bandstand to mariachi music under blue skies and hot sun. I know we have much to be thankfull for in the north but I think so often, when I am here, that our northern culture is missing so much, we have so few gathering places like the Jardin to dance, play music and connect with each other, and we have nothing to match this eggstatic ritual of joy in celebrating spring and courtship.