A Literary Lunch

Sharing a fascination for books and museums offers many jigs and jogs in our travels. The winter we spent an unusually warm week with our family in NYC, we soaked our souls in visual memories from Battery Park to Central Park and miles in between.

On our last day, we received an invitation to attend an auction at Sotheby's Auction House. My husband and I sat motionless, as we watched and listened to 'Fine Books and Manuscripts' being auctioned with bids taken by phone, email, and audience members! 

*An original four-panel Peanuts comic strip signed by Schulz sold for $12,500.

*A handwritten letter from Auguste Rodin sold for $1875.

*The carbon typescript of the corrected production script with technical notes for the radio story "War of the Worlds" by Orson Welles sold for $30,000. 

I pinched Jack's arm and smiled, whispering, "Here we are experiencing a once in a lifetime moment, witnesses to dramatic words of art that we only know of through newspapers and textbooks." 

We walked away in awe after watching an intense auction for Tennessee Williams' working draft of the stage play "A Streetcar Named Desire," which sold for $406,000. 

Literary Lunch, signed, $30,000

Continuing through the three floors of items up for auction, imagine my

Moo-Reese, a table top cow for $225,000

wonderment when we entered a room decorated for 'a wild rumpus'--the Maurice Sendak collection. Even though millions of children and adults know Sendak as an author and illustrator, Sendak preferred to be known as an artist. His imaginative use of color, design, and techniques demonstrate his passion for art. 

Peacock lamp at auction

The lure of color, texture, and richness drew us into the next showcase of "Tiffany Dreaming in Glass."  Barely breathing for fear of breaking something, I gingerly approached the "Peacock" table lamp. The note read--circa 1905 with a rare blown glass reticulated base, leaded glass, favrile glass, and patinated bronze shade. I let out my breath, then every so gently I touched the lampshade. To be honest, I petted the lampshade like I might pet a favorite dog. I knew I'd never be that close to a real Tiffany again. For a mere $70--$100,000 I could place a bid, or for free just dream.

Tiffany lamps at auction

Wisteria

Sitting on our coffee table are the books and catalogues that we picked up at Sotheby's. The entry on the Tiffany Dreaming in Glass catalogue, said that Tiffany had a passion for incorporating art into everyday life and objects, by

marrying artistic representations of the natural world with technical innovations. The writer's words in the catalog helped me appreciate the various styles. It is the marrying of ideas, imagination, and talents that I so deeply admire in artists, whether it's photography, paintings, sculptures, or written words. Imagine our Earth without ART...Eh!

The Gift of Music

The Gift she shared. 

My mother-in-law, Alleen Watt, believed music could start a conversation. Music did more than start a conversation in her life. People in her audiences were given a chance to dance, share stories of times passed, laugh and clap to the beat, and rejoice in the moment. She was blessed with an ear for music called 'perfect pitch.' Playing the guitar and piano came easily for her, a talent she inherited from her Papa, Charlie Morris. So many times as Alleen and I sat together in those last few years of her life, her sentences began with "Papa used to...."

Growing up in Little Axe on a farm during the depression, she and her sisters picked cotton and helped in any way possible. I felt the struggles she endured as she shared her memories, but more than anything else I felt the lasting love that her Papa had given her with the gift of music.  

Her Papa was born in 1878 in South Texas. During his eighty one years he rarely missed making music at a Saturday night dance. In her papers I found these words to a song she wrote to honor her Papa.

The lyrics are written from his point of view growing up dirt poor in Oklahoma.  

There were many times we were so hungry.

There were many times we were so cold,

When we lived there in that old half dugout

Back in those hills so long long ago.

       We came here from way down in Texas.

       Thought life would be better for sure.

       The farm we got kept us from starving,

       The bad times we learned to endure.

Papa had left us for heaven.

As the oldest child I took his place.

I was young but grew up in a hurry,

When I found out what we had to face.

       We hadn’t been long on our homestead

       When measles came to call at our home.

       Mama and sister joined Papa,

       Leaving me and two other brothers alone.

We had an old guitar and banjo,

And a two dollar fiddle and bow.

Soon we were playing for dances,

Then the time didn’t go by so slow.

       We’d ride those old horses bareback.

       Didn’t care how far we had to go.

       Those dances might last until morning,

       And oh, how that moonshine did flow.

Yes, times were hard and we did struggle.

Didn’t dwell on what might have been.

Just thanked God for all of our blessings,

And started all over again. 

*words by Alleen Watt, 1980