EARTH DAY IN QUEENS

                                                                             

DOVES ARE TRILLING
PIGEONS COOING
SQUIRRELS CHATTER AWAY
GRASS IS SPRINGING
BIRDS ARE SINGING
SPRING IS HERE TODAY

Happy Earth Day,

Elise                                                                                

AH...VENICE

The ice cream colors of Torcello

     When we dream of Venice, we dream of romance, sitting with the man or woman of your dreams in a gondola as it’s piloted through the canals. Listening to the gondolier sing a ballad of love and seeing the water lap against the old palazzos where pots of brilliantly colored flowers relax on terraces, and smile at the sun. We board a vaporetto and pay a visit to Murano where the art of glassmaking industry has made everything from bowls to chandeliers since 1251 and Burano, a fishing village known for its lace and, the third and most charming village—Torcello, with an ancient stone bridge and the Cattedrale di Torcello with its Byzantine mosaics. For shoppers a walk across the single arched Rialto Bridge is an invitation to luxury boutiques and inexpensive souvenir stands. We flock to St. Mark’s Basilica, the Peggy Guggenheim Collection, the Academy Gallery and walk, and walk, and walk—losing ourselves in the streets—perhaps the most fun of all.  

     But there is another side to Venice, there is the Piazzetta San Marco, a minute square next to the Doge’s Palace that faces the Grand Canal. Here, the infamous medieval justice of Venice was carried out—Victims lost their head or were hung after being held in torture chambers where they were interrogated. Inquisitors known as The Terrible Ten were appointed by the city to dispense justice. The prisoners first crossed The Bridge of Sighs—the name descends from the wail of sorrow by victims forced to cross the bridge knowing they would suffer torture and almost certain death. The Palace of the Doges dates back to 1309—a fire in 1577 damaged much of the building and many magnificent artworks were ruined but a number of the finest Venetian artists of the 16^th century contributed to its restoration by replacing the frescoes and paintings of old masters.

     A city filled with beauty, fine shops and restaurants and like any other—a city that has known evil.

Bests,

Elise

FRANKENSTEIN

     Mary Godwin Wollstonecraft, eighteen years old in 1815, spent a frigid, summer when she and her lover and husband to be—Percy Bysshe Shelley paid a visit to Lord Byron at his Villa by Lake Geneva in Switzerland. The rain and gloom cancelled a summer filled with the pleasures of the outdoors and the trio stayed inside the Villa Diodati consoling themselves with warmth and conversation. One of the subjects discussed was the achievability of returning a cadaver or accumulated sections of the body to life. The trio read ghost stories and at Byron’s suggestion each would write an unnatural narrative.

     Mary Shelley created Frankenstein after she had a dream that aroused sensations of fear and horror. In the nightmare, she watched as a “student kneeled beside a thing he had put together...a man stretched out, and then, on the working of some powerful engine, show signs of life...” The short story Mary Shelley began grew into a novel where Victor Frankenstein is passionate about science and believes he can channel the power of lightning. He develops a course of action that will return the dead to life and plans on the creation of a beautiful creature, instead thing that emerges is—in his eyes—a monster and Frankenstein rejects his own creation.

     We craft our own individuals when we write—taking physical characteristics and eccentricities from strangers, relatives and friends, we use parts of stories never finished but overheard in restaurants and plot their endings. We borrow a pithy line that made us laugh while eavesdropping during a dull subway ride—and combine them all into characters that we hope will live and breathe in the pages of our stories and novels. Sometimes our characters rebel and add a twist to our plot. The beautiful heroine has a fatal flaw; the villain has undiscovered good in him waiting to be discovered. When we pick up our pen or sit down at our computer we use our gifts as writers to animate and bring our characters to life just as Victor Frankenstein through the writing of Mary Godwin Wollstonecraft Shelley used electrical power to bring his creature to a life that is remembered generation after generation.

Bests,

Elise

THE BIG KNIFE

 

  
 Last Saturday, I went to see a preview of The Big Knife. the play first produced in 1949 was written by Clifford Odets--an activist, actor, director, playwright and screenwriter. A playwright who believed in the social protests of the 1930s, he was an actor with the Group Theatre who presented many of his plays and resented his leaving for Hollywood. Playwrights and actors were looked down upon at that time when they deserted theatre for film. Odets wrote many famous plays including Waiting for Lefty--a plea for labor unions, Awake and Sing, Golden Boy, rocket to the Moon and The Country Girl. Many of his plays have been revived and most werre adapted into films. He also wrote the motion picture None but the Lonely Heart which starred Ethel Barrymore, Humoresque with John Garfield, Notorious and the Sweet Smell of Success. Some think that Odets felt guilt at leaving the theatre for film but his emotional work keeps the audience riveted to the stage and the screen.

I was engrossed by the new production produced by The Roundabout Theatre starring Bobby Cannavaleand a cast of marvelous actors. The play is in three acts which was common in the 1940s but rarely seen today. Words and phrases are used that are not heard today but the characters are people that you can identify with. Odets introduced language, realism and themes that had not been seen before to an audience that embraced his subjects--they are still relevant today.

Bests,

Elise

 

JACKIE

    
     I'd like to introduce you to my toy poodle. Gone a number of years now, she still lives on in my heart and was the focus along with her friends--three other toy poodles, a sheltie and a Pekingese--of one of the first articles I wrote that was published. She was also the inspiration for  a short story that won a prize in an AKC fiction contest.
     Jackie and her friends joined us while we were touring with the national company of a Broadway musical. Part of the tour was what is called a "Bus and Truck," and when we descended the steps of our bus for a rest break and walks for the dogs, people would think we were a dog show. Jackie could easily jump from the left side of the bus to the right--if a ballet were ever written for dogs she would have been a star.
     She didn't like dog coats or snow boots (even thought the boots I bought for her came from Bloomingdales) and once she hid the coats so well I coouldn't find them for a week. She couldn't stand bows put on her ears by the groomer and insisted they be removed but she didn't mind the attention paid to her by handsome dogs--she did have good taste in men.
     Her favorite people foods after steak and ice cream were baked beans and rice pudding. Though shy, she had a big bark--taught to her by my husband--and if the doorbell rang employed it. When I looked through the peephole, the vendor would be standing far back. He had no way of knowing that Jackie was now hiding under the bed--although she always left room for me. I miss her.

Bests,

Elise

TRAVEL BUG

    
     I'm hooked on travel. It's a bug, it's a virus, it's something I look forward too. Travel to distant lands, short excursions to a nearby spot, I've somehow missed--museums, parks, city streets, unexpected adventures and meeting with new friends. Traveling has led to articles about places, food and people and short stories when something I've seen or heard about invades my thoughts and won't leave until I find an ending that leaves me satisfied.

     On a wall in my living room are paintings from my travels--one from Pompeii, several from Sydney, Melbourne, NY's Greenwich Village, Florence, Italy, London, Paris, all places I love and can never get enough of. Stirring up images that he;p me in my writing.

What stirs your imagination?

Bests,

Elise

MEMORIES

Photo courtesy of dreamstimefree_245756     
     Childhood, family, friends, first love, someone disliked--perhaps hated. They all stick in a writer's memory waiting until they can be placed on a page. Transformed--usually--until they're unrecognizable.
     My first short story was about family--though I didn't realize it at first. It took place in my apartment and was about remembering happenings with parents, aunts and uncles while waiting to travel to a service for my grandmother.
     My grandparents escaped a pogram in Russia and came to America. The story of their escape depended on who in the family was telling the tale. I liked my mother's story best--she tended to embroider and I hung on every word. They lived--first on the lower east side of New York and then in Bristol, Rhode Island where my grandfather worked in a shoe factory. My mom told me stories about jumping over puddles, being chased by a bull because she was wearing a red dress and ending up in the Old Soldiers Home. One of my favorite stories was about Christmas and the landlord who rented them the house they lived in. the landlord came by making my grandfather very nervous. Grandpa thought he would evict them because he and grandma had seven children; instead he presented my grandfather with seven pullets--one for each child.
     I adored my aunts--Claire was modern and read the latest magazines. Molly, the youngest, I asked for advice on dating. Betty--the do-gooder in the family--belonged to charitable organizations and Gus was the intellectual who took me to see Japanese films. The uncles all had a sense of humor and gatherings were filled with jokes and puns. I have a lot of material to draw from...how about you?

Bests,

Elise