This is the watercolor I painted for a post on the age of Rivka. I decided in order to paint I need 1) my children to be out of the house (OK if eldest is home) and 2) not a lot of time. If I have a lot of time, I will fritter it away, checking blogs, doing laundry, running errands, catching up on whatever household stuff I couldn’t get to when I had too much work on my plate.
You will notice the paper is rather rough; it’s fun to experiment with different types of paper. Also, because much of a bride is white, I had to concentrate on the negative space, the parts of the composition that were not bridal veil, dress or flowers.
“Not painting because it’s too much fun is like not going outside on a pretty day because the weather is too nice.” – Sh, a dear friend
But for us in the 21th century, either age seems young. One can see advantages to marrying someone off at fourteen; it (mostly) eliminates the problem with teenage pregnancies, as the girl/woman is married. She was also marrying someone who shared her culture, even if one family worshiped one God and the other worshiped idols. On the other hand, it doesn’t give her anytime to develop a career or even any sense of herself before having children. I can’t even begin to imagine a married 3-year-old, unless it was just a betrothal. Then, married fourteen-year-olds also seems like a strange notion…
This post is a continuation of 100 20 7 14 3. More on the 127, coming soon.
Westbankmama has posted a lovely Mama Rachel edition of Haveil Havalim. In this weekly blog carnival of the Best of the Jewish Blogosphere she linked to my post on Hospitality, which has the watercolor at the bottom of this post.
In the middle of the blog carnival, there is a lovely watercolor by an artist blogger named Carol Feldman. What a special treat! Thank you, Westbankmama, for hosting.
In this week’s parsha of Vaera we learn about hospitality, known in Hebrew as Hachnasat Orchim, welcoming guests. We have two examples of hospitality, one as Abraham welcomes three men (it does not say angels in Genesis 18:2) and another of Lot, who invites two angels to visit him.
How is Abraham’s hospitality different from that of Lot? For one, Abraham welcomed three men whom he saw as wanderers, not as angels, whereas Lot invited in angels. Rabbi Frand (from Rabbi Frand on the Parashah 2) differentiates the two greetings; Abraham welcomed men wandering through the wilderness, Lot was only welcoming because he saw angels. But at the same time, Lot had learned something from Uncle Abraham’s example.
Rabbi Frand writes:
Lot…saw angels. Lot was hospitable, but he wasn’t going to have just anyone at his house… Lot had learned enough from his uncle Avraham to invite the angels in, but he had not learned a most important lesson: you don’t handpick your guests. True hachnassas orchim is to make everyone feel welcome at your home, angel or human. And human, we might add, applies to all humans, even those that come from the less genteel segments of society.
Rashi brings another difference in their hospitality. Abraham requested that the travelers remove the dust from their feet first and then enter. Lot invited them to enter with dusty feet. Abraham saw his guests as worshipers of dust and did not want to bring their idol worship into his home. Lot, on the other hand, knew that the people of Sodom objected to Hachnasat Orchim so to protect the visitors suggested the guests remain with dust on their feet so it would appear as though they had just arrived.
I do like having guests over, though I can’t say I always feel up to it; some weeks I feel more inclined to entertain than others. But I do welcome my daughter’s complaint when we don’t have guests (“no guests this week?” she has been known to say). I like that she appreciates Hachnasat Orchim, welcoming guests into our home.
Finally, I struggle with Rabbi Frand’s idea of welcoming anyone into one’s home. Anyone else have their doubts or thoughts about this?
I did this with ink pens, and then for the color I applied watercolor paints. It is a study for a painting that I’ve started. It may take me months to finish. I’m in no rush.
A reader wrote to me saying she is never quite sure how to comment on an image. I realized that my many years of art training helps me comment on photography and art. So I’m hoping that with this post we can help those who would like help with imagery commenting ideas. If you have suggestions to offer, please leave some in the comments. I may add to the post with some of your ideas.
Using a list of formal elements I learned from an art teacher, here are some ideas:
Medium and materials: what did the artist/photographer use to create the image? One could ask a question or comment about the camera, the lighting, the photo editing software.
Composition: what is placed where in the composition? How is the rectangle (if it is one, and it usually is) broken up? Example: “An expected composition, with a diagonal going down one side where one would expect a vertical”
Color: is it one color? Many colors? Bright colors? Contrasting colors? Do they colors appeal to you? Example: “Love the combination of purples with reds and greens”
Light: What is the light source of the subject? How does it effect the overall presentation? Is it warm, cool, natural, artificial?
Style: Does it remind you of a certain style or school of artists? Is it realistic or fantasy-like? Pop art? Classical?
Depth: How far back does the photo/painting take you? Are you close to the subject or far away? How did the artist achieve those results? Example: “Wow, that field is vast” or “the dog looks like he’s going to jump right out of the picture and unto me!”
Motion: Did the artist/photographer create motion in the image? Does that feel good or make you dizzy?
Theme, Mood: Is there a basic theme to the image? Loneliness? Glee? Serenity? Chaos? Disconnect? Family bonding? If you think a photo has a certain theme, you can ask if that’s what the photographer intended. Or just say, “serene”, if you are staring at a calm lake surrounded by colorful fall trees.
If you would like to test out some of these descriptive ideas, you may comment on the painting in the upper right corner by Van Gogh. Click on it to see a larger version and more information.
Wednesday morning I did this little watercolor of an arava leaf (you might recognize it as a willow leaf, its name in English). It is one of the many natural symbols in the upcoming holiday of Sukkot, which starts on Monday night, Oct. 13. I actually was only looking at one leaf, which I painted a few times on the same piece of watercolor paper. My son planted a little willow branch in the backyard this year, and I was afraid if I took off more than one leaf off the little “tree”, there wouldn’t be much tree left. My other son agreed that I should put some compost around the edges of the little plant. It certainly has been getting enough water, as we’ve had rain on and off lately. Maybe I’ll photograph our little willow for another post.
Black-Eyed Bean Salad
I wanted to have all the simanim (food symbols) on the table for the first night of Rosh Hashana. I got really close. I just forgot the dates. Oooops. Only my husband missed them, as he’s the only one who likes dates.
In the past, I would say to my husband a few days before Rosh Hashana, now, what are the special foods we need to get? And he would mention maybe carrots and beets, and we would say a yehi ratzon on the carrots in the soup. When I was growing up, I don’t remember doing the yehi ratzon prayers at all. In fact, my father, who joined us for most of our Rosh Hashana meals, thought we should save the pomegranate for the new fruit, which one does on the second night of Rosh Hashana. My husband pointed out that we had eaten pomegranates within the last year, and one is really supposed to say the shehiyanu, the prayer for something new, on a fruit that one has not eaten in the past year.
So this year, because I did all this research on the simanim (thank you, readers, for your encouragement along the way as I posted various foods), I was the expert.
Back to the first night…so we have all these simanim on the table. With the help of Mimi’s Israeli Kitchen, I made the black-eyed beans (peas?) into a bean salad. She used: “seasoning it with a little chopped onion and a handful of mixed, chopped, cilantro, parsley, and celery tops. Lots of fresh lemon juice, to balance the earthy taste of the peas (which are really beans, but never mind) – salt and white pepper.”
Here’s my bean salad ingredients:
Black-eyed beans, soaked overnight and cooked in a crockpot
Chopped red onion
Chopped fresh parsley
Fresh lemon juice
Some olive oil
Salt and pepper
I was considering making a beet salad (Mimi made one: “some thinly sliced onion, salt, pepper, a little cumin, olive oil, a little sugar, and vinegar”), but as time didn’t allow (I was chaffeuring kids to play dates and art class in between cooking and doing a little of my web work), I just made steamed beets and cut them up.
What to do with leeks? Mimi posted a delicious leek tart (same post); I decided to incorporate the leeks with my chicken soup and with my roasted chicken with apples and mushrooms (I stuck one leek inside the chicken). I had more leeks than I needed, as I bought two sets; the first set of leeks didn’t look so good, and I had to go back to the supermarket on Monday morning anyway, so I bought a fresher set of leeks. The not-so-nice leeks are now resting in my compost pile which will hopefully be decomposed by next spring and will provide a new spot for growing tomatoes.
I made stuffed squash for the k’ra, the siman that can be a gourd, squash or pumpkin. I used Mimi’s stuffed artichoke post for inspiration on the stuffing. Hers had more ingredients; I had chopped meat, onion and spices in mine. I added chopped fresh ginger, too.
For the carrots, I went for simple. I liked the idea of cutting the carrots like coin-shapes.
Do you think I put a fish or lamb’s head on the table? I did the same thing I did last year, which was cut a piece of gefilte fish into the shape of a fish head and use a bit of cooked carrot for the eye.
Finally, I did one “joke” of a siman, which was to steam a “head” of broccoli.
The problem was, it was late, we were all tired, and my eldest son only liked the pomegranate. So after doing the apple dipped in honey (my daughter had us doing this one at every meal), we ate the pomegranate. It wasn’t nearly as juicy as ones I have eaten in the past. I bet the ones in ALN’s backyard taste better.
Next we ate the gefilte fish. Or five out of seven of us ate it. It turns out there is a special yehi ratzon for fish, separate from the “head and not the tail” one — “she’nif’reh v’nir’beh ki’dagim” (that we be fruitful and multiply like fish).
At this point, we just started eating the rest of the meal. Did we say any more of the yehi ratzons? I don’t know, but everything got eaten, at any rate. I enjoyed the meal, and it didn’t last nearly as long as a Pesach seder.
One traditionally eats pomegranate on Rosh Hashana, the Jewish new year, and thus I have been working on a watercolor of a pomegranate as part of my series on the food symbols of this holiday.
The prayer that one says, the yehi ratzon, is as follows:
“she’nirbeh ze’chu’yos k’rimon”
“…that our merits increase like (the seeds of) a pomegranate.”
