Dead Sea — Intro

an Exhibit at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC
The exhibition Scrolls From the Dead Sea: The Ancient Library of Qumran and Modern Scholarship brings before the American people a selection from the scrolls which have been the subject of intense public interest. Over the years questions have be en raised about the scrolls’ authenticity, about the people who hid them away, about the period in which they lived, about the secrets the scrolls reveal, and about the intentions of the scrolls’ custodians in restricting access. The Library’s exhibition describes the historical context of the scrolls and the Qumran community from whence they may have originated; it also relates the story of their discovery 2,000 years later. In addition, the exhibition encourages a better understanding of the challenge s and complexities connected with scroll research.

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Fossils Help Rev Hard-Hit Newfoundland Fishing Area : NPR

Guy Narbonne, a paleontologist at Queen’s University in Ontario, inspects a fossil at the Mistaken Point Ecological Reserve in Newfoundland. It is filled with half-a-billion-year-old treasures like this one.

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Mieke Teirlinck – Portraits

At Sea

As night hath stars, more rare than ships
In ocean, faint from pole to pole,
So all the wonder of her lips
Hints her innavigable soul.

Such lights she gives as guide my bark;
But I am swallowed in the swell
Of her heart’s ocean, sagely dark,
That holds my heaven and holds my hell.

In her I live, a mote minute
Dancing a moment in the sun:
In her I die, a sterile shoot
Of nightshade in oblivion.

In her my elf dissolves, a grain
Of salt cast careless in the sea;
My passion purifies my pain
To peace past personality.

Love of my life, God grant the years
Confirm the chrism – rose to rood!
Anointing loves, asperging tears
In sanctifying solitude!

Man is so infinitely small
In all these stars, determinate.
Maker and moulder of them all,
Man is so infinitely great!

Aleister Crowley

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Mieke Teirlinck – Portraits

With decisive oilpaint brush strokes M. Teirlinck paints figurative portraits, nudes, landscapes and still lifes. Sometimes she also works conceptual.
Everything is painted wet-in-wet : models sit, landscapes are painted “en plein air”, preferably in one sitting.

Austerity is essential in her work. Only the subject is painted in an extremely delicate play of light and shadow.

Honesty prevails. She doesn’t use distracting backgrounds, settings or frames.

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Emile Bernard

Born in 1868, in Lille, Emile Bernard comes to live in Paris with his family, in 1881.

His early passion for drawing is opposed by his father but supported by his grandmother. Registered in the Studio of Cormon, in 1885, he meets Anquetin and Toulouse-Lautrec with whom he becomes friends.

Expelled for insubordination, he traverses on foot Normandy and Brittany, in 1886. In Concarneau, he meets Schuffenecker who sends him to Pont-Aven to meet Gauguin, whose greeting is very reserved. In Asnières, he paints in company of Van Gogh; Signac, who had noticed him, comes to visit him.

During the summer 1887, Bernard is in Saint-Briac, in the pension of Mrs. Lemasson where he tries his first tests of ” cloisonnism”. In August 1888, he is then twenty years old, he is in Pont-Aven with his sister Madeleine; he become friends with Gauguin, works with him and from their collaboration is born esthetics specific to Pont-Aven.

He spends the summer 1889 in Brittany, after having exposed at the Café Volpini, with the painters of the Pont-Aven’s group. In 1890, he tries to earn a living in Lille, by drawing fabrics, but he gives up quickly. Bernard quarrels with Gauguin in 1891 and exposes that same year at the “Indépendants” and at Barc de Boutteville.

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Sound of Music, So Long, Farewell

..this is Skizzle Von Trapp, who was on an exchange program back in ’65. Since he’s the only one left around here, he would like to share that magic family moment that he knows we all dig deep for when rooting about in our inquiry about why we take birth….

There’s a sad sort of clanging from the clock in the hall
And the bells in the steeple too
And up in the nursery an absurd little bird
Is popping out to say “cuckoo”
[Marta, Gretl, Brigitta:]
Cuckoo, cuckoo

[Children: Marta, Gretl, Brigitta: ]
Regretfully they tell us Cuckoo, cuckoo
But firmly they compel us Cuckoo, cuckoo
To say goodbye . . .
[Marta, Gretl, Brigitta:]
. . . to you

So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, good night
I hate to go and leave this pretty sight

So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, adieu
Adieu, adieu, to yieu and yieu and yieu

So long, farewell, au revoir, auf wiedersehen
I’d like to stay and taste my first champagne

So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, goodbye
I leave and heave a sigh and say goodbye — Goodbye!
I’m glad to go, I cannot tell a lie
I flit, I float, I fleetly flee, I fly
The sun has gone to bed and so must I

So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, goodbye
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye


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We Grow Accustomed to the Dark by Emily Dickinson


We grow accustomed to the Dark —
When light is put away —
As when the Neighbor holds the Lamp
To witness her Goodbye —

A Moment — We uncertain step
For newness of the night —
Then — fit our Vision to the Dark —
And meet the Road — erect —

And so of larger — Darkness —
Those Evenings of the Brain —
When not a Moon disclose a sign —
Or Star — come out — within —

The Bravest — grope a little —
And sometimes hit a Tree
Directly in the Forehead —
But as they learn to see —

Either the Darkness alters —
Or something in the sight
Adjusts itself to Midnight —
And Life steps almost straight.

–Emily Dickinson

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