Corita Kent (Sister Mary Corita):
where there's life there's mud (1966)
Printed text reads: FOR[GET IT] /
we don't turn out perfect people
- where there's life there's mud.
Harvard Art Museums/Fogg Museum,
Margaret Fisher Fund
Copyright © Courtesy of the Corita Art Center,
Immaculate Heart Community, Los Angeles /
Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York

Once Upon A Time Aspired
As an acknowledged expert at project work, I would be remiss if I considered this designation to be an inoculation against experiencing any of what projects routinely serve their sponsor. One cannot avoid the inevitable, though one may, if remarkably clever, come to understand that inevitables say nothing about anyone's mastery or understanding. Acknowledged masters managed some of the most significant failures in the history of projects, and most of them eventually became godsends once the people involved accepted that they never were nor could have been in charge. Grace often arrives in sackcloth and shame, only to later tame discouragement. I cannot count the number of blessings I've experienced that were clearly curses when they arrived. It took time and patience for the universe to align around how the grand plan actually turned out. Nobody's very well positioned for determining success or failure as long as either metric seems to matter. Later, often much later, the blessing slips out from behind her disguise, and Grace sets down to have a spot of supper with you. Not one of us are masters, and none have an ounce of worthwhile advice between us. We're all still subject to the capricious winds and capacious disappointments. Not one of us was ever perfect, though several of us once upon a time aspired to become so. "Where there's life there's mud!" Sister Maria Corita

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Weekly Writing Summary

This Grace Story, Aches&Complaints, found me revisiting the scene of a prior time, reflecting on the aches I've accumulated and the complaints I've tried to shunt.

Dennis Feldman: TV and plant in hotel lobby – Seattle, WA – 1974 (1974)
"Sleazeattle embodies the sin of self-importance."
—
This Grace Story, FuturesPassing, found me pursuing a future I hold no hope of finding, thank heavens!

George Barbier: Falbalas et Fanfreluches: almanach des modes présentes, passées & futures pour 1922: Elle et Lui / France XXe siècle, [Falbalas and Fanfreluches: almanac of present, past & future fashions for 1922: She and Him / France 20th century,], (1922)
"The future doesn't hold a place for any us of us, thank heavens."
—
This Grace Story found me wondering what changes might be coming as a result of LevelSetting our home's sagging front porch.

Alfred Stieglitz: Georgia O’Keeffe—Hands and Thimble (1919)
"I'll insist on seeing level even if some crookedness persists …"
—
This Grace Story describes the unorthodox means by which we have been Designering our porch refurbish. We must never forget that we are engaged in creating a miracle.

Heinrich Aldegrever: Ornamental Design with a Bat in the Centre (1550)
"We approximately understand what we're doing …"
—
This Grace Story, Inspecting, finds me wary, cautiously considering how Inspecting could upend our project.

Théophile-Alexandre Steinlen: The Field Inspector (April 1894)
"Placating paves more streets than protesting ever did."
—
This Grace Story finds me considering how I might live: by The GoldenRules or by some alternate rule sets?

Corita Kent (Sister Mary Corita): somebody had to break the rules (1967) -Screen print- The printed text reads: SERVIC[E] ENTRAN[CE] / somebody had to break the rules / The rose is a rose and was always a rose but the theory now goes that apple's a rose, and the pear is and so the plum, i suppose. The dear only knows what will next prove a rose. You of course are a rose. But were always a rose. Robert Frost Credit Line: Harvard Art Museums/Fogg Museum, Margaret Fisher Fund Copyright © Courtesy of the Corita Art Center, Immaculate Heart Community, Los Angeles / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York
"I wonder every morning how I should live."
—
Well, this was a writing week! It took me to Sleazeattle, where I encountered more dystopian future than reassuring past. It brought me home to a Villa experiencing open porch surgery. I swear I've brought every bit of these experiences on myself. I feel fortunate that I'm not naturally blamey, for I should properly take the brunt of whatever befalls us. I wasn't even trying for perfect. This week, I revisited my Aches&Compliants while watching FuturesPassing. I promoted Designering, a primitive form of a mythical method of specifying beforehand in the delusion that one can somehow sidestep learning. Inspecting determines whether one reads their tea leaves correctly. It's blessed however the inspection turns out. If you screwed the pooch, you probably learned something in that lurch. If you passed with flying colors, you failed to learn anything from the experience, but your project budget remains intact. I ended this writing week considering what rules I might live by, a fundamentally unanswerable question still worth asking and answering. Thank you for trudging along with me through this adventure. I feel fortunate that Grace seems to be traveling with us here!

©2024 by David A. Schmaltz - all rights reserved

Tags: #Grace, #PureSchmaltz