Hearth Sparks: July 2013

Friday, July 19, 2013

Austrian Stereotypes

Brocade

I stopped into an interior design shop yesterday to see what the latest trends in this area were. The shop owner had beautiful heavy brocade and matelasse drapery and bedding. The shop was refined, elegant and fascinating. The accessories were ingenious. The valances looked like they'd just come from the Palace of Versailles. And size, most everything looked like it was created on a grand scale. Thought and care were evident in the layout and selections.The predominant flavor conveyed to us was "this stuff should be in a castle". We were impressed.

Matelasse

When the owner approached and engaged us in conversation, we discovered he was educated in Austria and his name was "Wolfgang". Okay. Wolfgang. Wow!

If you are like me, the only thing you know about Austria - this is where Hitler came from. It was a teeny bit weird to be standing there talking to this incredibly handsome man, trying not to think of Hitler and trying not to imagine a little black mustache under his nose. Wow, where did that come from? I realized that without proper education or research, we all default to stereotypes. And I was guilty!

Then my husband says something about Australia and I realize he's misheard the man and I'm off thinking about kangaroos. Wolfgang was quite nice about it.

AUSTRIA IN YELLOW BORDER

So I went home and looked Austria up on Wikipedia - mainly so I don't think of Hitler every time someone says "Austria". Here are some quickie facts I discovered.

Austria is bordered by 8 other countries and is the 12th richest country in the world (United States is the 11th, Canada is 9th, Luxembourg is 1st).
Austria is a neutral country and does not allow foreign military bases on its soil.
74% of the land is part of the Eastern Alps.
The country gave birth to many famous artists and scientists including Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Sigmund Freud and Arnold Schwarzenegger.
The Pez candy was invented in Austria - yay!
Einspanner Coffee - A Viennese specialty of strong black coffee served with whipped cream and powdered sugar - something I am dying to try!

I also looked up the meaning of the name Wolfgang. Who names their kid that? Evidently a lot of men in Germany and Austria are so named! Wolfgang is in the top 100 names for baby boys since the mid 1950's. There are a variety of meanings for this name including, "wolf's path", "traveling wolf", "running wolf" and "wolf leading in victory". Pretty cool! I'm thinking maybe I'll name my firstborn Wolfgang!

Lastly I google his website...holy smokes! You have got to see the drapery section. I'll let you discover it on your own...www.wolfganginteriors.com. Oh, and to top it all off, he's a television celebrity and never mentioned a word!

All this guy really needs now are some beautiful Stained Glass Fireplace Screens!

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

My First Car

Do you remember the heady rush of excitement in owning your first car? I was 18 and mine was a light blue 10 yr old Duster with white racing stripes, I bought it for $400….the color didn’t matter to me because it was “My Car”. The make and model and mileage paled in significance because I had “A Car”! I was mobile, I was free, I had “arrived”! I even named it “Cookie”.

But this car did absolutely nothing for my personality or self identification. After a couple of months experience as a new car owner, the glamour died and comments like “what IS that thing?” started registering on my brain, I realized Cookie was an eyesore. And my adolescent logic made the jump that if my car was an eyesore, then I was an eyesore. I started begging rides again and plotted ways to get another car – one that blended in – on my next to nothing budget.

Me and Cookie would sneak onto car lots late at night and browse the long line of possibilities, leaving trails of drool between the tightly packed rows of cars and fingerprints on all the windows. I fell in love with a gleaming brilliant red glossy Jetta and my secret affair began. (Cookie was miserable and started acting out.) I would stop after work every night to visit her. I’d peer into the driver’s side window to check the mileage to see if she’d been test driven, trying the doors in case she had been unlocked. I’d sit leaning against her brand new tires and sing ballads and told her fantastic stories. I even memorized her VIN number. I dreamed of where we would go, what I would put on her license plate, maybe even some custom decals. This was MY car, it screamed excitement, passion energy and I knew if I could purchase her, my life would start! I was motivated, I started working longer hours, saving money…life had purpose!

Two weeks later, she was gone, presumably sold to someone who would never love her like I did...(We’ll pause here for a moment of silence.) Life was over, I was inconsolable, evidently it didn’t occur to me that there were many other gleaming red Jettas all vying for my attention.

Cookie was vindictively glad, I was heartbroken. I took the $172 dollars I’d managed to save and dropped it in an indigent’s guitar case outside of Strawberry Square in Harrisburg PA.

Looking back 30 years ago…wow, I was an emotional idiot! Today I still name my cars tho. And I currently have a charcoal Jetta – “Swan”, that is completely paid for…somehow it just seems wrong to think about a red car….speeding across the continent, plates reading “VOLITILE”, sunroof open, windows down, hair streaming in the wind, and the thundering notes of Johnny Horton’s Ballad of New Orleans wrapped in a rocketing red blur…just seems wrong.

PS. My brother Mark's first car had a dashboard made of "great stuff" foam. It looked like intestines and disintegrated the longer it sat in the sun...so I don't feel like I was the biggest idiot in the family.

Sunday, July 7, 2013

Floriography and a Decorative Fireplace Screen

FLOWERS HAVE MEANINGS?

Flowers are used heavily in stained glass art. Mostly we just look at the flower and think, "that's pretty" and then our mind goes on to the next attraction. I was struck recently when looking online at a decorative fireplace screen covered with flowers that perhaps there was a deeper meaning behind what I was looking at and sure enough there is something called the "Language of Flowers" or Floriography. I started researching this very fascinating subject and then I couldn't stop myself from checking out what message each of the stained glass fireplace screens were conveying.

A LITTLE HISTORY

Gaining peak popularity in the 18th Century, the language of flowers was a much needed boon to Victorian-era strict society. There were so many rules of etiquette that expressing one's feelings out loud was bound to result in undesirable waves of gossip. Self taught writer, the Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, introduced to the English court the concept of exchanging flowers with meanings to express what couldn't be spoken aloud. This started a boom of lists and dictionaries and a whole shift in fashion and communication. During their daily outings in the parks, ladies would display a bouquet given to them by a secret admirer, or a relative. Some would fasten to their hats a nosegay of flowers to convey regrets or acceptance of a rendezvous. The choices and messages were unlimited.

There was a hazard tho, if you didn't have the same dictionary as your secret admirer, some of your choices could be very unwise!

SHORT BONUS POEM!

Here is a sweet poem commissioned by Edward W. Elgar in 1872, dedicated "to my sister Lucy on her birthday." This shows some of the meanings of the flowers. It also shows creativity we've lost in language (due to television and other visual social media).

THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS

In Eastern lands they talk in flow'rs

And they tell in a garland their loves and cares;

Each blossom that blooms in their garden bowr's,

On its leaves a mystic language bears.

The rose is a sign of joy and love,

Young blushing love in its earliest dawn,

And the mildness that suits the gentle dove,

From the myrtle's snowy flow'rs is drawn.

Innocence gleams in the lily's bell,

Pure as the heart in its native heaven.

Fame's bright star and glory's swell

By the glossy leaf of the bay are given.

The silent, soft and humble heart,

In the violet's hidden sweetness breathes,

And the tender soul that cannot part,

In a twine of evergreen fondly wreathes.

The cypress that daily shades the grave,

Is sorrow that moans her bitter lot,

And faith that a thousand ills can brave,

Speaks in thy blue leaves "forget-me-not".

Then gather a wreath from the garden bowers,

And tell the wish of thy heart in flowers.

Forget Me Nots

ANYWAY...

Flowers have always been a girly sissy thing to me until I discovered the language of flowers and how to communicate subtle little digs and compliments! I would encourage you to spend some time using these online floriography lists and compare them to my decorative fireplace screens to get some practice on learning the language of flowers.