Matthew Monday: Matthew's Drawing

On Mondays I intend to post a story or picture of my little son, Matthew.  Here's a short conversation that just happened a few minutes ago before I put him to bed.

Matthew is standing against his children's drawing board with a piece of blank paper clipped in for him to draw on.  I'm sitting on the floor beside him.  He puts his hand under my chin and holds my head steady.

"Stay still Daddy, I'm going to draw you."

Alright, that had me laughing.  He had never attempted to draw a person before, at least that I'm aware, and him putting his hand under my chin kind of reverses the roll of father and son.

"OK, draw me."

"Can I use green Daddy?  Can I?"

"You sure can.  Let's see you draw me."  Now I was curious.  His drawings have been mostly scribbled lines so far.  So he draws two vertical lines down the page, roughly what would be the margins of a page.  That's different, I'm thinking.  That could be a sort of tall person.

"Here are your eyes Daddy."  And he draws roughly round two circles, offset from the center, but still it wasn't scribble and they were passable eyes.

"Not bad Matthew."

"Here's your mouth Daddy."  And he draws a jagged line underneath the eyes in a sort of smile shape.

"Hey, that's pretty good."  I'm getting impressed.  How did he just learn how to do that?  He stands back and looks at his work.  "Now how about a nose," I say.  Well he draws a straight vertical line where the chin would be, and I giggle.  "That's not where it goes."

"Yes, it does," he says, sort of contemplating his artwork.  "Now I'm going to draw your boobie."

"WHAT!  What did you say?"

"I'm going to draw your boobie."  And he scribbles a sequence of short lines, nothing resembling anything recognizable, but about the place a chest would be.

"Where did you learn that?"  I say, laughing hysterically.

"And here's your other boobie."  And he draws similar scribble on the other side of the chest.  I'm now laughing so that tears are forming, completely shocked, and he's laughing pretty hard himself.  It was a moment to remember.

Here's what might be my favorite picture.  It was taken on our first full Father's Day together back in June 2011.

The First Blog: Introduction

Ash on an old man's sleeve
Is all the ash the burnt roses leave.
Dust in the air suspended
Marks the place where a story ended.
Dust inbreathed was a house-
The walls, the wainscot and the mouse,
The death of hope and despair,
This is the death of air.

T.S. Eliot, from "Little Gilding."

 

This is my literary blog, reflecting my reads and thoughts on literature, novels, short stories, poetry, plays, even literary criticism. I'll also comment on writing style, especially the use of the English language. My name is Manny. I have an advanced degree in English Literature, but that's relatively meaningless. The love of high literature is the only criteria that really matters. Literature is the ultimate art form, abstract yet tangible, rhythmic yet static, didactic yet aesthetic. Literature as art form has had hold on me for over thirty years. Since I talk about it elsewhere, since I read continuously and ponder the artistry behind the works, since I dilly-dally with creative writing myself, and have built up some store of knowledge, I thought it high time to share my thoughts with those that may want to hear them, create a dialogue on shared readings to reach some sort of conclusion, and just kibitz on literary topics in a way that would occur if we dear reader were sitting at a cafe with a coffee or tea and a Limoncello or Sambuca.

 

I take the name for this blog, "Ashes From Burnt Roses" from T.S. Eliot's poem cited above. Set aside what Eliot might actually mean by the phrase, what the rose symbolizes here for me is the highest artistic perfection from nature. And yet, in our discussion as we dissect and break literature down, it gets burned to ashes, reduced to cinders, dust and dirt. But let us hope that from our examination the rose rises from the ashes into the greater rose, the finer rose, the more complete rose. It is in understanding art, in reaching its central mystery—whether the mystery is revealed or veiled—that great art is fulfilled and reaches it teleologic purpose.

  

In addition, during the course of the week, I'll throw in a music video or an interesting picture or painting from the fine arts world to keep things moving. I’ll throw in a quote to ponder.  They'll reflect my interests and if you wish to comment, please do. I certainly don't claim expertise in music or art, other than my overarching understanding of aesthetics in general. But we all enjoy great music and art. You'll see I have a particular love of the Blues, and so I think I'll have a regular video clip of a Blues work on Tuesdays. Why Tuesdays? Why not?

  

About me, the raw facts: I'm Italian-American in ethnicity, lived in the outer boroughs of New York City all my life, just turned fifty-one years old, married to the same woman for over twenty years, and until recently childless. Two years ago we were blessed to have adopted a little boy from Kazakhstan, Matthew, my dearest of dears. As you can imagine, my travails as a first time father at this age can make a good story. I will use the blog to post a picture or relate a tale about my little joy from a doting parent. I'll call that Matthew Monday.

 

To fill out my background, my real career is in mechanical engineering. The literature degree was achieved as a side hobby after I doubled majored in college in engineering and English lit, and worked as an engineer for a number of years. Yes, that coupling might seem odd, and I guess it is. As to how this blog will reflect my engineering discipline, it is not entirely clear to me at the moment. I definitely will never mention my specific work, but engineering is a craft, and craft is a subset of art. There may be occasion to bring it up.

 

Also I am a Roman Catholic by faith, and I would consider myself somewhat devout. This is not a religious blog, and I don't intend to ever talk about theology, except if it might pertain to a work under discussion. But my religion will at times reflect my reading choices and perhaps my readings of various works. That is who I am. I will also post an entry on Fridays--an image, or a poem or a music video--that reflects my faith. It will be my form of virtual prayer. Feel free to ignore it if it does nothing for you.

 

Finally, I am a political animal as Aristotle says we all are. This blog will have absolutely no politics or issues of the day associated with it. I do comment on politics elsewhere, and you may notice my avatar in the comments section of various blogs and news sites. I am also a guest blogger on J's Cafe Nette where I express an occasional opinion. Those that know me know I can be passionate on the issues. Feel free to reply to my opinions at their source sites. Please do not bring up politics here. I want nothing controversial on this blog. I want no one to feel alienated or aggrieved. It will be a failing on my part if this blog does not live up to the first line of the Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi, "Lord make me an instrument of your peace."

 
 With that I wish you peace.

UPDATED, 2 February 2013:
I'm going to change the recurring Blues Tuesday blog to just Music Tuesday.  Limiting a music entry to just blues doesn't do justice to my wide musical interests.