Hundreds and Thousands: The Journals of Emily CarrD & M Publishers, 1. dec. 2009 - 448 sider Emily Carr’s journals from 1927 to 1941 portray the happy, productive period when she was able to resume painting after dismal years of raising dogs and renting out rooms to pay the bills. These revealing entries convey her passionate connection with nature, her struggle to find her voice as a writer, and her vision and philosophy as a painter. |
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Side 7
... talking to a cherished friend (pp. 95, 96, 95). But after the major heart attack of 937 that put Carr into hospital for a month and resulted in severe limits on what she could do, the journals waned and her story writing activities ...
... talking to a cherished friend (pp. 95, 96, 95). But after the major heart attack of 937 that put Carr into hospital for a month and resulted in severe limits on what she could do, the journals waned and her story writing activities ...
Side 26
... talk with Mr. Harris again. He told me to go back. I'm going and I want to go alone. I want to see again “Above Lake Superior” and that stern mountain cradling the cloud. I want to see them all, but those two I must see before I go West ...
... talk with Mr. Harris again. He told me to go back. I'm going and I want to go alone. I want to see again “Above Lake Superior” and that stern mountain cradling the cloud. I want to see them all, but those two I must see before I go West ...
Side 29
... talk and squint and haggle so long over hanging. Holgate's things are ripping, so strong. He asked me if any of my watercolours were for sale, and the rugs. Mr. Barbeau and Mr. Lismer called for me, after I'd 1927 29.
... talk and squint and haggle so long over hanging. Holgate's things are ripping, so strong. He asked me if any of my watercolours were for sale, and the rugs. Mr. Barbeau and Mr. Lismer called for me, after I'd 1927 29.
Side 30
... talking. Mr. Barbeau beat a great Indian drum and sang some Indian songs that were very touching and real. I did not get home till 2 o'clock. It was a delightful evening with a touch of the foreign; both Mr. and Mrs. Barbeau are ...
... talking. Mr. Barbeau beat a great Indian drum and sang some Indian songs that were very touching and real. I did not get home till 2 o'clock. It was a delightful evening with a touch of the foreign; both Mr. and Mrs. Barbeau are ...
Side 31
... talk was largely art and books. I feel as if I have met the “worthwhiles” on this trip, people who really count and are shaping a nation. They are all so big and broad, so kind to the younger struggling ones, so proud of the bigness of ...
... talk was largely art and books. I feel as if I have met the “worthwhiles” on this trip, people who really count and are shaping a nation. They are all so big and broad, so kind to the younger struggling ones, so proud of the bigness of ...
Indhold
21 | |
43 | |
69 | |
TRIP TO CHICAGO 1933 | 100 |
MOVING FORWARD 193334 | 125 |
NOAHS ARK 1934 | 169 |
HOPES AND DOLDRUMS 193435 | 192 |
SPRING AND SUMMER 1935 | 242 |
A TABERNACLE IN THE WOOD 1935 | 263 |
BECKLEY STREET 1936 | 291 |
GOODBYE TO LIZZIE 1936 | 334 |
HOSPITAL 1937 | 364 |
THE SHADOW OF WAR 193839 | 398 |
NEW GROWTH 194041 | 414 |
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Hundreds and Thousands: The Journals of Emily Carr Emily Carr,Gerta Moray Ingen forhåndsvisning - 2006 |
Almindelige termer og sætninger
Alice artist asked awful beautiful birds camp canvas Carr cold comes dead dogs don’t door earth everything exhibition express eyes face feel felt fire flat flowers four garden give glad gone green growth half hand happy hard hear heart interested It’s keep leaves letters light live Lizzie look mean morning mountains move movement never nice night paint pass Perhaps pines poor quiet rain round seems sketches sort soul space spirit stand story straight studio sweet talk things thought tired told took trees trying turned waiting whole wind window wish woman wonder woods writing young
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Side 76 - DAREST thou now O soul, Walk out with me toward the unknown region, Where neither ground is for the feet nor any path to follow? No map there, nor guide, Nor voice sounding, nor touch of human hand, Nor face with blooming flesh, nor lips, nor eyes, are in that land. I know it not O soul, Nor dost thou, all is a blank before us, All waits undream'd of in that region, that inaccessible land.
Side 198 - I haven'ta single thing in common with them. They're all snarled up in grandchildren or WA or church teas or bridge or society. None of them like painting and they particularly dislike my kind of painting. It's awkward, this oil and water mixing. I have lots more in common with the young generation, but there you are. Twenty can't be expected to tolerate sixty in all things, and sixty gets bored stiff with twenty's eternal love affairs.
Side 23 - I'm going off on a tangent tear. There is something bigger than fact: the underlying spirit, all it stands for, the mood, the vastness, the wildness, the Western breath of go-to-the-devil-if-you-don't-like-it, the eternal big spaceness of it. Oh the West! I'm of it and I love it.
Side 23 - Quebec and three canvases up Skeena River. I felt a little as if beaten at my own game. His Indian pictures have something mine lack — rhythm, poetry. Mine are so downright. But perhaps his haven't quite the love in them of the people and the country that mine have. How could they? He is not a Westerner and I took no liberties. I worked for history and cold fact.
Side 382 - I am glad of that. I am also glad that I am showing these men that women can hold up their end. The men resent a woman getting any honour in what they consider is essentially their field. Men painters mostly despise women painters. So I have decided to stop squirming, to throw any honour in with Canada and women. It is wonderful to feel the grandness of Canada in the raw, not because she is Canada but because she's something sublime that you were born into, some great rugged power that you are a...
Side 174 - SPECULA When He appoints to meet thee, go thou forth— It matters not If south or north, Bleak waste or sunny plot. Nor think, if haply He thou seek'st be late, He does thee wrong. To stile or gate Lean thou thy head, and long! It may be that to spy thee He is mounting Upon a tower, Or in thy counting Thou hast mista'en the hour. But, if He come not, neither do thou go Till Vesper chime. Belike thou then shalt know He hath been with thee all the time.
Side 54 - Delve! mould! pile the words of the earth! Work on, age after age, nothing is to be lost, It may have to wait long, but it will certainly come in use, When the materials are all prepared and ready, the architects shall appear.
Side 153 - I felt it in the woods but did not quite realize what I was feeling. Now it seems to me the first thing to seize on in your layout is the direction of your main movement, the sweep of the whole thing as a unit. One must be very careful about the transition of one curve of direction into the next, vary the length of the wave of space but keep it going, a pathway for the eye and the mind to travel through and into the thought. For long I have been trying to get these movements of the parts. Now I see...