Friday, May 5, 2017

Collaborations: Through the Darkness, Stories of Hope


Dear Gentle Readers,

Last year I was asked to join a wonderful group of inspirational authors to write a serial novel about hope entitled Through the Darkness, Stories of Hope, published by Articulate Communications, Inc.

My story in this book is A Woman Named Hope. It's the story of a little girl growing up in the beautiful southern Italian countryside with her beloved papa and her mother near the family olive groves. 

A set of unforeseeable circumstances has the little girl embarking on a new life in America without her parents or any family to watch out for her, with a fistful of fake travel documents, and at the age of eleven, married to a man she does not know, and has no idea what he expects from her.



Amazon Link: Stories of Hope bit.ly/CIMHOpe 

Here is an excerpt:
A Woman Named Hope
By Carol Ann Kauffman

Growing up on the outskirts of a small town of Colabina in central Italy long ago, little Maria Theresa Orvienta would walk with her father, Nick, through the olive groves while he told her stories of his youth. She loved the way the warm breeze rustled through the silvery leaves of the olive trees, gently singing songs no one else could hear but her. They sang, “Be happy” and “Life is beautiful.” They sang of the idyllic small town life, and the importance of trees and sunshine and love and family.
“You are doing well in your studies, yes?”
“Yes, Papa.”
“Your teacher says you are the star of the class. Your English is perfect.”
“Thank you, Papa.”
“Mrs. Lynch is a very good teacher. She is from a very fine family in Cleveland, Ohio. You need to keep it up. You and me and Mama, we are going to go to America, very soon I hope.”
“I don’t want to go across the ocean to live. I like it right here.”
“Maria Theresa, there is no country like America! The whole world is open to you if you work hard and keep your nose clean. It is the country of freedom and opportunity.”
“Mama says you are having a pipe dream.”
“Sometimes your mama talks too much. She must keep our plans secret, and so should you. Look at all these beautiful olive trees. Soon we will have many olives. We will have olive oil galore. Much money will be made this year. All of my debts will finally be paid off, financial and otherwise, and we can get out of here.
“I never wanted to grow olives. I wanted to grow grapes. I wanted to have my own winery. Maybe someday, I’ll have my own vineyards in America. We’ll make wine. We’ll call it Lucky Nicky Winery. That’s a lofty dream for a boy who grew up poor. You know, when I was a child, my parents were so poor that they had to steal the fruit from the neighbors’ trees at night just to feed us children.”
 “Ahh, that makes me so sad, Papa. Were you always hungry as a boy?”
 “No, my little one. Either I felt good or I felt bad. I didn’t know enough to know the reason why. I ate very little as a boy. But I make up for it now,” Papa laughed.
“Yes, you do. Mama says you are getting a tummy.”
“Oh, don’t listen to her. Men are supposed to be big and broad so they can protect their families. Who’s afraid of a skinny guy waving a pitchfork? Huh? Nobody!”
Maria Theresa laughed and nodded. She looked up at her tall handsome dark-curly-haired father and thought he was the most magnificent man in the world.
 “Sometimes we as a family had to run and hide in the foothills from evil marauders who wanted to do harm to our women and kill all the men.”
“Are the evil marauders still around, Papa?” Maria Theresa scanned the area for movement.
“Yes, angel, but they have different names and different faces. They don’t roam the hillsides anymore. But they’re still out there, preying on the innocent, and stealing what doesn’t belong to them. I think we will always have bad, power-hungry men in the world. You must learn to recognize evil.”
“Evil is mean and ugly,” she said with her hands on her hips, with all the confidence and conviction of an eight-year old.
“No, honey. It’s not that easy. Sometimes something very bad can look good. Sometimes evil can look very pretty to us. It does all the right things and says all the right things, but for all of the wrong reasons. You must learn to trust what your heart and your soul tell you so you can know the difference.”
Maria Theresa slipped her hand into her father’s big hand bronzed from the sun. “I’m scared, Papa.”
“Don’t be scared. I don’t tell you these things to frighten you, little one. I tell you so you’ll be armed with the truth. You need to know these things. You aren’t a baby any more.”
“No, I’m not,” she affirmed. “I will soon be nine.”
“Trust your feelings. Don’t let people take advantage of your sweet and gentle nature. Tell the truth. Lies beget lies. One lie leads to another and another. Know that, no matter what, God will not desert you. And when things get dark and scary, never give up the hope that good days will return.”
“Never give up hope. Okay, Papa. I won’t.”

Wednesday, May 3, 2017

Sea Witch by Carol Ann Kauffman: An Overview


Dear Gentle Readers,

Sea Witch is the story of a mermaid, but not the sweet Ariel type of mermaid, or even the ones who sing mesmerizing songs on the rocks to lure sailors to a rocky wreck.

This mermaid is the last of her alien species, hell bent on world domination, and the complete destruction of the human population. Landing quietly in the vast ocean, away from prying eyes and the media coverage, she waits...for the right "mate" to come along.

It's sci-fi. it's fantasy, it's a little bit wacky. It's also the story of a love strong enough to, well, you'll have to read the book to find out.

Hugs,
Carol🐠🐠🐠🐠🐠🐠🐠🐠🐠🐠🐠🐠🐠🐠🐠

Link:   http://tinyurl.com/ljan72s

Tuesday, May 2, 2017

VOGUE: The Art of Helen Dryden


The Art of Helen Dryden                              

All Information and photos from Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.


Helen Dryden
Born November 5, 1887
Baltimore, Maryland
Died July 1981 (aged 93)
Nationality United States
Helen Dryden (1887 – 1981) was an American artist and successful industrial designer in the 1920s and 1930s. She was reportedly described by the New York Times as being the highest-paid woman artist in the United States, though she lived in comparative poverty in later years.[1]



Dryden was born in Baltimore and moved to Philadelphia when she was seven years old to attend Eden Hall. During her early childhood years Dryden showed unusual artistic ability, designing and selling clothes for paper dolls. Eventually she sold a set of her paper dolls and dresses to a newspaper for use in its fashion section. This in turn led to a position as illustrator for Anne Rittenhouse's fashion articles in the Philadelphia Public Ledger and The Philadelphia Press.
                                                    




Dryden was largely self-trained, describing her works as "a combination of things I like, in the way I want to do them." Her artistic education consisted of four years of training in landscape painting under Hugh Breckinridge and one summer school session at the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts. Deciding that she had no real interest in landscape painting, Dryden focused her complete attention on fashion design and illustration.






Career
Fashion illustration
After moving to New York in 1909, Dryden spent a year trying to interest fashion magazines in her drawings. None, however, showed any interest in her work and many were harsh with criticism. Dryden was particularly disappointed in her rejection by Vogue. Less than a year later, however, Condé Nast Publications assumed management 
                                              
of Vogue and set out to make changes. Upon seeing Dryden's drawings, they directed the fashion editor to contact her immediately. The result was a Vogue contract that led to a 13-year collaboration (1909–1922) during which she produced many fashion illustrations and magazine covers.[2] Her "essentially romantic style produced some of the most appealing, yet fantastical images on Vogue covers, frequently depicting imagined rather than realistic representations of dress."[3] She also illustrated other Condé Nast titles, including Vanity Fair and House and Garden.[3]






Costume design
In addition to her prolific career as an illustrator, in 1914 Dryden launched a successful career as a costume designer. She designed the scenery and some of the costumes for the musical comedy Watch Your Step, followed by designs for several other stage plays including Clair de Lune, the fanciful drama based loosely on a Victor Hugo romance. Although the play starred Lionel and Ethel Barrymore, Helen Dryden's costume designs were generally given equal credit for the play's success.[4]                                       


Industrial design
Following the 1925 Paris Exposition Internationale des Arts Décoratifs et Industriels Modernes, Dryden turned her attention to industrial design, producing a number of designs for tableware, lamps, and other housewares, for the Revere Corporation.[5] She had a highly paid job with the Dura Company until the stock market crash of 1929, at which point she was replaced by George W. Walker.[6] It seems Dryden never fully recovered from this blow. According to Christopher Gray, "The 1925 census recorded her living at 9 East 10th Street with her 25-year-old Philippine-born cook and butler, Ricardo Lampitok.



Dryden worked for Studebaker from 1934 to 1937, reportedly earning $100,000 per year.[7] Automotive designer Raymond Loewy contracted with her to help him design Studebaker interiors.[8] Her work on the interior of the 1936 Studebaker Dictator and President that established Helen Dryden as an important twentieth-century industrial designer.[9] The advertisements by the automaker proclaimed, "It's styled by Helen Dryden."[10] Dryden designed the Studebaker President throughout, and the press marveled that a woman had attained this eminence in mechanical engineering.[11] She was considered "one of the top industrial designers and one of the few women in the automotive field."[12] Dryden worked with Loewy through 1940.[8]

By 1956 Dryden was again living in a $10-a-week hotel room paid for by the city's Welfare Department. At the time, she referred nostalgically to "her '$200-a-month' 10th Street apartment".

I claim nothing here as my own.
CAK

Monday, May 1, 2017

Sea Witch by Carol Ann Kauffman: An Excerpt



Boy Meets Fish


“Scott?  Tell Vanna to bring down an acanthaster planci, please,” Laura called over the intercom.
“Yes, Dr. Martin.”  Scott looked around for Dr. Vanna Johanssen.
“Dr. Johanssen!  Vanna?  Has anyone seen Vanna?”  They all said no.  Not wanting to disappoint Dr. Martin, Scott scooped out a crown of thorns starfish and placed it in a plastic bag with some water and tied off the top.  “Dr. Johanssen?” he called as he headed for the down staircase.  
“Vanna?”  No Vanna.  He ran down the steps.

As soon as Scott walked down the steps, Zara became extremely agitated.  She beat the glass sides of her tank wildly.
“Zara, what’s the matter?  What’s wrong?  Calm down and talk to me,” Dr. Martin spoke softly and calmly to Zara, the giant tetrapescahumanoid.  Zara attempted to calm down, but she beat her chest and thrashed around in the tank.
“My mate!” she screeched, “My mate is here, Laura.  I sense him.  And you are keeping him from me.  I want my mate.  And I want him now!”
“Zara, your mate is not here.  I have no other TPH here, you know that.  There’s only you.  You are the last.”
“He is here, Laura.  I sense him.  I smell him,” she inhaled deeply.  “And I want him.  I must have him now.  Now!”  She pounded her chest and threw herself up against the glass walls of the tank.

“Here, Dr. Martin,” said Scott, handing her the starfish.  “I couldn’t find Dr. Johanssen, so I brought it down myself.”  
Zara stopped and stared at Scott.  Zara pushed herself up against the glass wall.  She began to coo and reach toward him.  
Scott looked at the giant six and half foot tall tetrapescahumanoid in the tank in amazement.
“Well, hello beautiful!” he said. “Isn’t she is amazing? What is this gorgeous creature? A mermaid?”
“A tetrapescahumanoid, a TPH for short.  The only one left on the planet, out of the nine who splashed down about twenty years ago,” said Laura.
“She’s… she’s… incredible.” Scott stared in amazement.
“Oh, crap!  I’ve seen this movie and it gets really messy,” said Sylvia.  “Earth guy falls in love with giant alien female.  Lots of people die.  The planet gets bombed.  Except in the movie, she was much larger and …blue. Are you smitten with the big green fish-woman?”
“Well, she is beautiful, I must admit, and her ancestors were undoubtedly the reason for irresistible siren and mermaid legends of long ago, but I’m madly in love with a one hundred percent human woman,” he said eyeing Laura.  Laura glanced over at him.
“Yeah?  That’s good, Scott.  Is she a geek like you?”
“Well, I’ve never thought of her that way, but yes, I guess you could say that,” laughed Scott, shaking his head, “except she’s a cross between a geek and… Wonder Woman.” He smiled.
“Well, then she sounds like the perfect match for you.  Hold on to her and don’t let her slip through your fingers.”
“I’m determined not to let that happen, Dr. Martin,” he smiled, blushing.

Zara pressed herself up against the glass wall of her tank, eyeing Scott intently.
“Come.  Come to me, my mate.  Oh, how I have missed you.  It has been a long, long time, and I am ready for you,” Zara cooed.  She reached for her genitals, pulling her labia back to show him her opening.  “I want to hold you up against me and enfold you into my skin and feel you throb.  Come to me.”
“Did the big green fish-woman just… proposition me?” asked Scott.
“Yes, and not too subtley,” said Sylvia Washington.
“Her first two layers of skin are gelatinous ectoplasmic vasodilators, capable of keeping her body at the perfect temperature despite her surrounding temperatures in water or air,” said Laura.  “Even a splash from that tank water can be EXTREMELY harmful to you as a human male, Scott, so please remember to stay behind the yellow line at all times.  And watch out for what appears to be her long, flowing hair.  They’re actually masses of tentacles that can pack quite a sting."
“Come to me.  Come now,” Zara beckoned to Scott, but not so sweetly this time.
“She certainly can communicate.  Dr. Martin, did you teach her to talk?”
“I’ve worked with her.  But she has good communication skills and she picks up very quickly.  Zara is extremely intelligent.  The TPH must be a brilliant species.”
“What are these characters on the side of the tank?” said Scott.
“I believe that is her native language.  Sometimes she doodles.”
“They look, uh, oddly familiar.”  Scott leaned forward. “I’ve seen these somewhere before.”
“You!  Come to me NOW!  I command you!  How dare you disobey me!” Zara scowled, hitting the glass wall with her body again and again and whipping her hair against the glass. Everyone backed up in fear.
“Zara, calm down.  Scott, back up slowly,” Laura said calmly.  “Security team, lower level.  Emergency,” Dr. Martin called out.  A team of six armed guards showed up in moments.  “Dr. Conner is in danger.  Please escort him upstairs.  And tank him.  She can’t see him, or smell him.  Or sense his presence.”  They led Scott upstairs.

“Did she say ‘tank me’ or ‘thank me?  Must be thank me,” a bewildered Scott asked.  “You’re welcome, Dr. Martin,” he called back.

Sunday, April 30, 2017

Schedule for May 1 - 5, 2017


Schedule for May 1-5, 2017

Mon., May 1 - Sea Witch by Carol Ann Kauffman
An Excerpt
Tues., May 2 - VOGUE:
 The Fabulous Art of Helen Dryden
Wed., May 3 - Sea Witch by Carol Ann Kauffman
Reviews and Overview
Thurs., May 4 - The Artist Leonid Afremov
Fri., May 5 - Colloaborations: 
Through the Darkness, Stories of HOPE