Woman penning a Valentine's Day missive to her love ... Pen and ink illustration by Yahn Smith
Gentlemen and Ladies, start your engines! Two more (not necessarily) shopping days until V-Day ... so I thought a little reminder ... and a little story ... might be in order to properly prepare and possibly inspire you....
First, however, I must tell you that Guinevere the Druid Goddess so wanted to join us in the celebration of this auspicious day ... I know she had great plans for it ... but the poor dear is probably completely worn out, and definitely is among the missing (temporarily, I hope). Imbolc was a flaming success ... and then Chinese New Year ... explosions and fire!!!! How cool is that???Unfortunately, the last time I saw her, she was totally entwined with the lead Lion Dancer from the Hong Kong parade, swilling rice wine and making a public spectacle of herself ... again ... and then ... poof! When I could see through the smoke, they were both gone! Perhaps gambling in Macau ... or being pampered at one of those sybaritic beach resorts in Thailand ... or literally off on a cloud somewhere.... I hope you'll accept the substitution of my humble (grin) self in her stead.
So ... a few words about Valentine's Day ... and about the thoughts, and specifically, the words of love ... which are the traditional underpinnings of this occasion celebrating the unfathomable depths of emotion which can exist between two people. The day itself is named after at least two Christian martyrs (Valentine of Rome and Valentine of Termi ... take your pick), but became associated with romantic love at the time of Geoffrey Chaucer during the High Middle Ages. (Fun Fact, with a nod to Nicki: It is estimated by the U.S. Greeting Card Association that more than one billion valentines are sent worldwide each year, and that women purchase eighty-five percent ... 85%!!! ... of them.)
Ancient Romans celebrated fertility on February 15, in a festival known as Lupercalia ... and I am reminded of William Shakespeare's words spoken by Marc Antony (no romantic slouch when it came to Cleopatra) to the funeral crowd in Julius Caesar: "You all did see that on the Lupercal I thrice presented him a kingly crown, which he did thrice refuse." Can't say that anyone's ever presented me with a kingly (or queenly) crown, but I have duly marked and noted ... and have my "infernal" memory, you know ... other tokens and professions of love.... But I digress....
Cards, flowers and candy have become standard offerings to a loved one ... although it is generally conceded that words of love to express romantic feelings for the day may have first appeared in a Chaucer poem (Parlement of Foules, 1382) which commemorated the first anniversary of the engagement of King Richard II to Anne of Bohemia, two lines of which are rendered here (in present-day, rather than Chaucerian, English):
For this was on sent Valentine's day
When every bird cometh there to choose his mate.
Indeed, for hundreds of years, valentines were usually handwritten love notes and romantic stories, penned by a lover to the object of his/her affection, rather than borrowed sentiments "canned" by Hallmark Cards in Kansas City. So it is that I make a "radical" (me?) proposal to all of you (gender nonspecific). This Valentine's Day ... do the unusual ... or the traditional, if you like. In addition to (you notice I did not say in lieu of ... you don't get off that easily!) the red roses, and the Godiva, and the champagne (and the rubies ... don't forget the rubies! ... see "Bobcat Treasure: Rubies ... Mystic Power ... and Valentines" posted February 4, 2008), take pen in hand (all right, keyboard and mouse, if your handwriting is illegible) and write something for your beloved ... from your heart, from your soul, from the inner, vulnerable you.
Doesn't matter if you can't spell, doesn't matter if you're not a poet (although it's a big plus if you have that facility), doesn't matter if it's long or even just a heart-swelling, kvelling, significant and meaningful word or two or three ... just do it! I promise your lover will remember your words forever ... long after the flowers have wilted, the chocolate and the hangover are gone, the card has been relegated to a drawer somewhere, and even the rubies are reserved for occasional wearing. Words of love ... the greatest, most indestructible, least expensive yet most priceless of Valentine's gifts because they will live always in your beloved's heart and mind.
Having said that, in honor of the day set aside for lovers, I will tell you the story of Yingtai and Shangbo, "The Butterfly Lovers" of Chinese legend, commemorated in "The Butterfly Lovers" concerto by Chen Gang and He Zhanhao. (In the concerto, which is perhaps the most widely-known in China, and has also been performed internationally, the male is represented by the cello and the woman by a violin.) As is the case with many legends, there are slightly differing versions of the the story, but this is the tale ... in my own words, from my heart and untrammeled spirit to my love ... as I believe it was whispered to me by a matched pair of butterflies, once upon a lovely day....
The Butterfly Lovers .... Liang Shangbo and Zhu Yingtai
(梁山伯與祝英台 ... often abbreviated and combined as Liang-Zhu, or "梁祝") ....
During the period of the Eastern Jin Dynasty of China (317 to 420 C.E. ... Common Era, a/k/a A.D.), in the lovely town of Hangzhou (100 miles south of Shanghai) a young woman, Zhu Yingtai, prevented by Chinese custom from receiving an education on a par with that accorded to men, disguised herself and gained entrance to a prestigious school in the town, without the knowledge of her parents. At school, she met a young man, Liang Shangbo, and they became fast friends. During the three years they studied together, their relationship deepened and Yingtai fell in love with Shangbo, although of course Shangbo never suspected that Yingtai was in fact a woman.
Detail of painting "Autumn Lantern" by Shanghai artist Xie Qiu Wa, owned by Yahn and Jennifer Smith
After graduation, the two friends parted and Shangbo returned to his poor village, but Yingtai found herself missing and longing for Shangbo to the point of desperation. So Yingtai, again unbeknownst to her parents, contacted Shangbo's family through a matchmaker, who made arrangements with the Liang family for Shangbo to marry his old friend's "younger sister" ... who was of course Yingtai. When Shangbo traveled to the Zhu home, bearing presents for his promised bride, he discovered that his cherished school friend Yingtai was actually a beautiful woman who truly loved and wanted to marry him. Shangbo thereupon fell passionately in love with her, his ardor compounded by the deep friendship he had formerly felt for his close companion.
But when the lovers begged Yingtai's parents to let them marry, her parents refused. Although Shangbo was a scholar and a gifted writer and artist, he was poor and not of the same class as Yingtai's family. Further, Yingtai had been previously contracted to marry the scion of the wealthy Ma family. Yingtai's parents were shocked and distressed that their daughter had traversed so far beyond the bounds of propriety, and had gone to such unpardonable, unfilial lengths to arrange her own love match, which was simply NOT done in China (or many other places) at that time. The lovers were forcibly parted, and through the machinations of Yingtai's parents, Shangbo soon found himself assigned to serve the Emperor as a court functionary in an outlying province.
Despite his efforts to recover from the loss of Yingtai, and distract himself with other lovers and diversions, Shangbo could not forget his beloved. He pined and grieved, and spent all his hours consumed with thoughts of her. He wrote such voluminous scrolls of delicate, calligraphic poetry dedicated to her, and painted her likeness so compulsively, that he lost his appetite and his zest for living, and died of a broken heart within a year.
On the day of Yingtai's marriage to Ma Wen Cai, as the bride and her family were proceeding first by palanquin and then by boat to the home of the man who would be her unwanted husband, strong typhoon winds and rain began to batter the province. The wedding flotilla was stopped by the turbulent waves and the keening wind ... indeed was seemingly prevented from continuing by preternatural forces ... and was forced at last to seek shelter in a small cove.
As the winds grew stronger and the water lashed against the boats, Yingtai was told by someone in her party that a single white tomb on the shore was that of Shangbo. After many tears and much pleading, Yingtai convinced her parents and escort to let her approach Shangbo's tomb to pay her respects, and to speak with him to placate his spirit. It is said that when Yingtai knelt by Shangbo's tomb and called his name, the tomb suddenly split apart, whereupon Yingtai hurled herself into the tomb, which then closed over her.
The gale immediately ceased, and the sun appeared, banishing the furious, stormy sky. As Yingtai's parents and servants frantically dug at the rubble of the tomb to extricate her, the tomb opened again ... and two butterflies emerged and flew together into the wide, eternal blue sky, freed from bonds of tradition and duty. And the butterfly lovers, Yingtai and Shangbo, now fly together forever, seeking lovers young and old, to whisper their story on the breeze and bless those who have found true love.
So, when you see two paired butterflies chasing each other and frolicking on currents of air some lovely day, speak softly to them, and rejoice, for they at last found each other ... as it was ever meant to be....
Happy Butterflies ... Flutterbyes ... Valentine's ... Day!!!!
)O(
Gentlemen and Ladies, start your engines
First, however, I must tell you that Guinevere the Druid Goddess so wanted to join us in the celebration of this auspicious day ... I know she had great plans for it ... but the poor dear is probably completely worn out, and definitely is among the missing (temporarily, I hope). Imbolc was a flaming success ... and then Chinese New Year ... explosions and fire!!!! How cool is that???
So ... a few words about Valentine's Day ... and about the thoughts, and specifically, the words of love ... which are the traditional underpinnings of this occasion celebrating the unfathomable depths of emotion which can exist between two people. The day itself is named after at least two Christian martyrs (Valentine of Rome and Valentine of Termi ... take your pick), but became associated with romantic love at the time of Geoffrey Chaucer during the High Middle Ages. (Fun Fact, with a nod to Nicki: It is estimated by the U.S. Greeting Card Association that more than one billion valentines are sent worldwide each year, and that women purchase eighty-five percent ... 85%!!! ... of them.)
Ancient Romans celebrated fertility on February 15, in a festival known as Lupercalia ... and I am reminded of William Shakespeare's words spoken by Marc Antony (no romantic slouch when it came to Cleopatra) to the funeral crowd in Julius Caesar: "You all did see that on the Lupercal I thrice presented him a kingly crown, which he did thrice refuse." Can't say that anyone's ever presented me with a kingly (or queenly) crown, but I have duly marked and noted ... and have my "infernal" memory, you know ... other tokens and professions of love.... But I digress....
Cards, flowers and candy have become standard offerings to a loved one ... although it is generally conceded that words of love to express romantic feelings for the day may have first appeared in a Chaucer poem (Parlement of Foules, 1382) which commemorated the first anniversary of the engagement of King Richard II to Anne of Bohemia, two lines of which are rendered here (in present-day, rather than Chaucerian, English):
For this was on sent Valentine's day
When every bird cometh there to choose his mate.
Indeed, for hundreds of years, valentines were usually handwritten love notes and romantic stories, penned by a lover to the object of his/her affection, rather than borrowed sentiments "canned" by Hallmark Cards in Kansas City. So it is that I make a "radical" (me?) proposal to all of you (gender nonspecific). This Valentine's Day ... do the unusual ... or the traditional, if you like. In addition to (you notice I did not say in lieu of ... you don't get off that easily!) the red roses, and the Godiva, and the champagne (and the rubies ... don't forget the rubies! ... see "Bobcat Treasure: Rubies ... Mystic Power ... and Valentines" posted February 4, 2008), take pen in hand (all right, keyboard and mouse, if your handwriting is illegible) and write something for your beloved ... from your heart, from your soul, from the inner, vulnerable you.
Having said that, in honor of the day set aside for lovers, I will tell you the story of Yingtai and Shangbo, "The Butterfly Lovers" of Chinese legend, commemorated in "The Butterfly Lovers" concerto by Chen Gang and He Zhanhao. (In the concerto, which is perhaps the most widely-known in China, and has also been performed internationally, the male is represented by the cello and the woman by a violin.) As is the case with many legends, there are slightly differing versions of the the story, but this is the tale ... in my own words, from my heart and untrammeled spirit to my love ... as I believe it was whispered to me by a matched pair of butterflies, once upon a lovely day....
The Butterfly Lovers .... Liang Shangbo and Zhu Yingtai
(梁山伯與祝英台 ... often abbreviated and combined as Liang-Zhu, or "梁祝") ....
Detail of painting "Autumn Lantern" by Shanghai artist Xie Qiu Wa, owned by Yahn and Jennifer SmithAfter graduation, the two friends parted and Shangbo returned to his poor village, but Yingtai found herself missing and longing for Shangbo to the point of desperation. So Yingtai, again unbeknownst to her parents, contacted Shangbo's family through a matchmaker, who made arrangements with the Liang family for Shangbo to marry his old friend's "younger sister" ... who was of course Yingtai. When Shangbo traveled to the Zhu home, bearing presents for his promised bride, he discovered that his cherished school friend Yingtai was actually a beautiful woman who truly loved and wanted to marry him. Shangbo thereupon fell passionately in love with her, his ardor compounded by the deep friendship he had formerly felt for his close companion.
But when the lovers begged Yingtai's parents to let them marry, her parents refused. Although Shangbo was a scholar and a gifted writer and artist, he was poor and not of the same class as Yingtai's family. Further, Yingtai had been previously contracted to marry the scion of the wealthy Ma family. Yingtai's parents were shocked and distressed that their daughter had traversed so far beyond the bounds of propriety, and had gone to such unpardonable, unfilial lengths to arrange her own love match, which was simply NOT done in China (or many other places) at that time. The lovers were forcibly parted, and through the machinations of Yingtai's parents, Shangbo soon found himself assigned to serve the Emperor as a court functionary in an outlying province.
Despite his efforts to recover from the loss of Yingtai, and distract himself with other lovers and diversions, Shangbo could not forget his beloved. He pined and grieved, and spent all his hours consumed with thoughts of her. He wrote such voluminous scrolls of delicate, calligraphic poetry dedicated to her, and painted her likeness so compulsively, that he lost his appetite and his zest for living, and died of a broken heart within a year.
On the day of Yingtai's marriage to Ma Wen Cai, as the bride and her family were proceeding first by palanquin and then by boat to the home of the man who would be her unwanted husband, strong typhoon winds and rain began to batter the province. The wedding flotilla was stopped by the turbulent waves and the keening wind ... indeed was seemingly prevented from continuing by preternatural forces ... and was forced at last to seek shelter in a small cove.
As the winds grew stronger and the water lashed against the boats, Yingtai was told by someone in her party that a single white tomb on the shore was that of Shangbo. After many tears and much pleading, Yingtai convinced her parents and escort to let her approach Shangbo's tomb to pay her respects, and to speak with him to placate his spirit. It is said that when Yingtai knelt by Shangbo's tomb and called his name, the tomb suddenly split apart, whereupon Yingtai hurled herself into the tomb, which then closed over her.
The gale immediately ceased, and the sun appeared, banishing the furious, stormy sky. As Yingtai's parents and servants frantically dug at the rubble of the tomb to extricate her, the tomb opened again ... and two butterflies emerged and flew together into the wide, eternal blue sky, freed from bonds of tradition and duty. And the butterfly lovers, Yingtai and Shangbo, now fly together forever, seeking lovers young and old, to whisper their story on the breeze and bless those who have found true love.
So, when you see two paired butterflies chasing each other and frolicking on currents of air some lovely day, speak softly to them, and rejoice, for they at last found each other ... as it was ever meant to be....
Happy Butterflies ... Flutterbyes ... Valentine's ... Day!!!!
)O(
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9 comments:
Jennifer,
Congratulations on doing such a great job with the tale of the "Butterfly Lovers." There is no way that Guinevere could have done better. (No offense to GDG, please!) Your romanticism comes through loud and clear and I hope Yahn is up to the job of meeting your Valentine's Day expectations! When I look at his wonderful work in the Woman on the Bed photo I suspect that he too has a very romantic side. It is wonderful. I hope you will share the technique that he used with this one. You two do make a spectaculary talented couple.
When it comes to romance this knock-knock joke is about as good as it gets at our house.
Knock, Knock
Who's there?
Olive.
Olive who?
Olive you.
Have a wonderful Valentine's Day, everyone!
Words of love may not WIN a girl's heart any more (Does this somehow seem familiar?), but the rental plan is VERY DOABLE. It took me long enough to figure this out (the Druid Goddess absolutely did not make me say that), but those little thoughts really do matter greatly and their expression is vital. Love is a wonderful thing if you pick the right one and tell them you care on a regular basis. It ain't ownership, but the lease is real reasonable. 40 years and Jennifer hasn't even had a late payment.
Nicki, your question about the woman on the daybed piece (at the start of Jennifer's post) is one that I'm very used to, but you'll just have to forgive me ... for better than 20 years I also taught Art History as well actual "How To" courses. In other words, I can be real long winded....
The best "real" explanation of the process came from Michelangelo, or as I sometimes refer to him, "Mikey". He said (more or less) that the idea for a work of art lives in the material itself ... or at least in his "vision" of it. There was a 20-foot block of white Italian marble that had a major flaw running through it. Just about every major sculptor of the day declared that the marble was useless and would have to be cut into smaller pieces to be salvaged. Mikey looked at the same stone and saw the "David", which by its physical contours would avoid all of the flaws. All that was left for him to do, he said, was to cut away everything that wasn't "David" and viola ... one of the world's great masterpieces!
Well, my piece (no, I would never, ever compare my work to Mikey's) "lived" in my mind. Literally, I looked at a piece of blank white paper and started laying down tiny black dots of ink with a technical pen. Now this is the hard part ... when the image was complete, I stopped making dots.
For years I preached to students that before I could teach anyone how to draw, first I had to teach them how to "see". The technique is called "stippling" and is widely considered to be archaic. Today an artist or illustrator would slap a photograph or tonal drawing on a scanner, use a program like "Photoshop" to simulate the dots (there's actually a "stippling" screen in there), and be done with the piece in minutes. As I recall, there were about 12 hours involved in the manual process I used for this piece, and thus it is now commercially (and financially) unfeasible.
I've probably told you more than you ever wanted to know about artistic process, but I warned you I was a teacher.
BFF ... by George, you've done it again! Love the story of "The Butterfly Lovers" ... almost like a Chinese version of "Romeo and Juliet." It's a really beautiful story, and wonderful for Valentine's Day.... I think your tale of "Scheherazade" is still my favorite ... by a skosh ... but this is definitely right up there.
As for Guinevere the Druid Goddess ... what can I say? I guess we all have our "eccentric" relatives (?) and skeletons in the closet ... although some are a little quieter and more discreet than others.... Have you considered rehab??? Although if they can't keep Britney locked up, a triple goddess is likely to be totally impossible to contain! Perhaps sister Brigid could stage an intervention???
Yahn, your drawing is my favorite work of yours that I've seen.
I'll be looking for ... and enjoying ... more from both of you.
Jennifer, I very much appreciate all of the Valentine's Day information. Wish I could find a way to use some of it! LOL...It just sounds like so much fun.
Your story of the Butterfly Lovers brought tears to my eyes.
Thanks for sharing your painting of the "Autumn Lantern". You know that is one of my favorites. I miss seeing it. Isn't there another one similar to that one?
Nicki, so glad you liked "The Butterfly Lovers" ... and to be placed so generously in the same rarefied atmosphere as Guinevere the Druid Goddess makes me blush with delight! I must confess: You've "outed" me! I AM a complete, hopeless (well, not quite hopeless) TOTAL romantic ... always have been. That might surprise some ... but no one who truly knows me. And "Don't ask, don't tell" don't work!!!
Love your joke ... but I strongly suspect that you and Jim are both capable of more in the "romance" department than knock-knock jokes. Actually, I am reminded of a rather bawdy joke ... about a lonely shepherd in an "olive" grove .. and his fondness for his "ewes"... But I digress....
********
For my love ... you already know ... so won't repeat here. It could get embarrassing.
********
BFF LK: Interestingly, the legend of "The Butterfly Lovers" IS referred to (at least in the West) as the Chinese "Romeo and Juliet" ... except I think it predates Shakespeare ... and the lovers of Verona ... by a few centuries. The first known written story of the old legend of "The Butterfly Lovers" has been traced back to its "author", Zhang Du (850-880) in the late Tang Dynasty. Of course, many of Shakespeare's plots were "borrowed" from other sources (as is my story) ... it's Shakespeare's "words" and eloquent phrasing that so distinguish him. (Not that I am comparing my humble story to Shakespeare, of course.)
As for Guinevere the D.G. ... I know she can seem a little brash or outre at times ... but she is definitely her own, sui generis, untrammeled GODDESS ... perhaps not as conventional as sister Brigid ... but definitely a hoot, and the life of any party ... and I've been to a few of those....
)O(
I love "outre" ... especially in gumbo....
This is the most concise I think I've ever been....
Yahn,
I have to agree with Linda Kay that your drawing of the woman on the bed is my favorite so far, also. There is something about it that I find intriguing. I do think that the stippling technique that you used enhances the intrigue. I am amazed that you were able to draw such a wonderful picture using only tiny dots; I am amazed that you were able to see it before you drew it, and I am amazed it only took 12 hours. Part of my amazement comes from the sad fact that I have absolutely no talent for drawing at all. I would have been the student in one of your "How to" classes that you would have advised to find another class! I am way too left brained! I will say however that perhaps sadly, with technology, I might have been able to create a machine made product. Before I retired, I used to spend quite a bit of time in the newer computer art classes where high school students were taught to create wonderful art projects using software. I was constantly in awe of what they were able to do. As you stated on the phone the other night, you were involved in teaching computer art as well. Technology has definitely forced everyone in the teaching field to "monitor and adjust" what and how students are taught.
Thanks for the short lesson!
Shee-Ra ... sorry it took so long to respond to your comment ... but as you now know from your phone call, we've discovered a "glitch" in the forwarding of some comments meant for the blog. We think (hope) all is well now.
Re: the "Autumn Lantern" painting .... there's not another one. The image I used for the post shows just one figure in that two figure painting. The sister of the girl shown is on the other side of the lantern, when you see the painting full-on. I just asked Yahn to photograph the one figure to use with the story. And I am so glad you like it ... it is one of my favorite things....
Also delighted to know that you liked my story.... Tears are always a good sign ... at least in that case....
)O(
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