It’s usually around this time of year that my wife and I go to a suburb outside Philadelphia and pack into my great uncle’s house alongside my parents, brother and sister-in-law, aunts, uncles, cousins (first and second and third)… sixty people!… and my grandma Zelda, pictured above.
Zelda passed away last year. Here’s a very nice remembrance. I’ve been thinking about her more during this holiday time, especially as I’m staying in Los Angeles - far away from everyone. One of the incredible things about Zel was her creative output, all the way up into her nineties. Sometimes it was a painting a day. And poems too. She was equally unwearying when it came to consuming art too. Movies, books, music - she was always entertaining herself with something new and could recite and analyze it at will, whether it was a Django Reinhardt album from the 1950s or the latest Netflix hit. Like an encyclopedia of artistry.
In some ways, I feel that Zel has become a talisman for my family - which is full of poets, filmmakers, writers, potters, and craftsmen. We aspire to her level, and just musing on her endless well of imaginativeness helps give me a spark - or some extra fuel in the tank. Especially as I stay put, writing through this particular holiday, I will be conjuring her spirit and hearing her voice as she jokingly advises - but also very seriously, “Listen to Beethoven. Listen to soaring Italian operas. Do the tango. Roller skate. Feast on dim sum, sushi, apple pie. Above all, respect intuition when it comes your way.”
Here’s a record of one of her past exhibits and some paintings below.
