BOSTON - a weekend that changed my life

1976 – I was 37 years old, the country was celebrating its bicentennial, and my wife, at age 34, was studying for the law school entrance exams.  Amy was 11 years old, Beth 7, and Sara 5.  My medical practice of 5 years, which had been a source of unbridled pleasure and satisfaction, was beginning to lose its luster, as my mental, emotional, and spiritual well being began to gradually decline.  Unknown to me at the time, this was to be the beginning of a journey taking me to places I never could have imagined.

State law required all physicians to complete a certain number of continuing medical educations hours (CME) in accredited courses every two years, and I was registered in an Oncology review course at the Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston.  I arrived at the conference hall for the 9 a.m. session, and was confronted by an all too familiar CME environment, large hall with tables set up in rows facing the lectern and a large screen, and smaller tables on the sides of the hall with coffee, tea, and water.  Each registrant is given a syllabus with a daily schedule lectures and an outline of each presentation, along with a pad of paper and one or more very sharp pencils.  The lights are dimmed, the first slide is projected on the screen, and the speaker begins to read…directly from the slide, the same slide that is in the syllabus.  It takes less than 10 minutes for the sleep inducing boredom to set in; this is the last place on earth I want to be on this day, and after 30 excruciating minutes I get up and walk out, and will not return for the remainder of the 3-day course.

I walked back to the hotel to get my canvas shoulder bag with my camera, pens, and sketchbooks, and set out to explore the city.  And explore it is exactly what I did, walking through every section and neighborhood of Boston over the next 2 days.  On the third day, I took the train across the Charles River and experienced Cambridge and the Harvard campus.  I loved every minute of every day; quite remarkable for someone who was not fond of traveling, site seeing, and dining alone.  It was more than just the visual delights of the city’s remarkable urban landscape; I was experiencing an incredible sense of being centered within myself.  Everything was as it should be in my small world.  I was doing what I was intended to do. 

Those three days in Boston 36 years ago were to mark the beginning of an incredible journey, taking me through the most intense years of my life.  Four years later I would make the decision to leave my practice and pursue a life as an artist.

THERE IS LIFE AFTER PASTA

One of my struggles with the plant based diet is learning to cook with a minimum of fats, processed wheat, and dairy products.  A favorite dish of mine has been pasta with salmon and asparagus in a lemony cream sauce.  I am pleased to report that tonight’s dish, with several variations, was every bit as good as the pasta dish.

INGREDIENTS;

Quinoa – Inca red

Salmon

Asparagus

Sweet potato

Olive oil

Garlic, onion

Celery

Fresh lemon juice

White wine

Fresh dill

Seedless grapes, cut cross wise into 3 or 4 pieces.

PROCESS:

Bake or nuke one sweet potato, and when cooled, slice cross-wise in ¼ inch pieces.  This can be done ahead of time and the slices reheated.

Cook the Quinoa as directed on the package.  In the meantime, cook the onion and garlic in the olive oil until soft.  Add the asparagus (cut into 1/3 inch pieces), celery, and a bit of the finely chopped dill.  Cook for about 5 minutes over medium-high heat then add the salmon (cut into bite sized pieces) plus some white wine and lemon juice.

When everything is done, place 3 or 4 slices of the potato on the plate and add the asparagus-salmon over the potatoes, and top with the sliced grapes.  Serve the Quinoa on the side, and drizzle everything with lemon juice to your preference.

COMMENTS:

Delicious...I did not miss the pasta or the cream

A GIFT ON THE ROAD

Breaking from the usual routine, the last 2 hours of my 12 hour drive from McKinney TX to Paducah were one of pure visual delight.  All day I had following a storm front moving west to east, and by late afternoon I found myself facing a sky laden with dark blue-gray clouds illuminated by the brilliant light from the sun deep in the west...my absolute favorite combination of sun and clouds.  Unfortunately I could not safely stop to photograph the brilliant landscape, but I could paint it.

 Bathed in Light...acrylic...16x40

This is a theme I've visited many times in the past.   Here are several examples in acrylic from the past 6 years.

 Before the storm...24x48

 Perserverence 24x48

 Dark Skies...24x24

Summer Trees...12x48

JUST WHEN I THINK IT'S DONE...

With a loud sigh of relief I stand back from the easel and look at the finished painting...the result of my week long effort.  I'm satisfied with what I see, until I'm not.  A few days go by and I realize what it is that bothers me; the painting needs something to help establish scale and distance.

 

So I add the building and a few trees, followed by another sigh of relief, and all is well, until it is not.
The very dark mountains "don't work".  They need to be lighter, like this....

 

Finally I'm done.  The lighter mountains have made a difference.  But have they made it a better painting?  That was yesterday.  Today I'm thinking I've gone to far, and the value of the mountains need to be somewhere between the very dark and the too light.  I'll have to think about that for a while.

SALVATORE RENZULLI He chose his names carefully

My grandfather, Salvatore Renzulli, was born in Castelnuovo della Daunia in the providence of Foggia on November 10, 1872 to Pasquale Renzulli and Angela Maria Mazzone Renzulli.   He married Angelina Candeloro Martinelli, and the young couple, like so many others of their generation, planned to escape the poverty of southern Italy at that time by immigrating to America.  Because of a minor health problem, his wife remained in Italy and Salvatore made the journey alone, arriving at Ellis Island in March of 1902.  Angelina arrived 8 months later with their first child, Maria Stella.  After a short stay in Philadelphia they settled on a small farm in Landisville NJ.  They had 10 children: Maria Stella, later name Cornelia, was the oldest, Communardo was born in Philadelphia, and the remaining children were born on the farm: Marx, Ida, Era, Ferrar, Spartaco, and Olga.  Two children, Cipriano and Angelina died before the age of two.

Although he had very little formal schooling, my grandfather was an avid reader with a passionate interest in political and social history and the struggles of the common man.  Nowhere is this more evident than in the names he chose for his children.

Maria Stella was changed to Cornelia (Curly to her family) a Roman woman who spoke and worked for a democratic society 200 years BC.  She is the only woman from that period whose written work has survived. 

Communardo Leonido (known to family and friends as Ren), the oldest boy, was named after the Communards, French Revolutionists who fought against the aristocracy.  Leonido was a Greek patriot who led the defense of democratic Sparta.

Era Spiridanova was named after a woman who led strikes and marches to improve the working conditions in Europe in the early 1900s.

Marx Libero was named after Karl Marx, author of Das Kapital and a leading figure in the Socialist movement that was sweeping Europe in the early 20^th century.  Libero translates to “free thinker”.

Bruno Ferrer (known to family and friends as Fatty) was named after Giordano Bruno, a Spanish, Dominican philosopher who was critical of the church.  Francisco Ferrer was a Spanish educator who opposed the churches role in education.  Both men were eventually executed.

Spartaco Diagoro (Duke to everyone) was the subject of recent post.

Cipriano, who died in early childhood, was named after Amilcare Cipriano, an Italian liberal who fought in Italy, France, and Spain, and like all to the other namesakes, was eventually executed.

Cipriano Lenin (Chippy to family and friends) was Cornelia’s first child and Salvatore’s first grandson.  No explanation required for the middle name.

 La Famiglia...circa early 1940s.

La Famiglia...circa 1990s  From L to R...Duke, Era, Fatty, Ren, Dolly.  Seated - Ida

SPARTACO DIAGORA RENZULL I a.k.a. Dad

Dad...age 14

My father was born to Angelina and Salvatore Renzulli on October 27, 1913, in Landisville NJ.  His birth certificate lists his name as Spartaco Diagora Renzulli, and not Spartico as it was commonly spelled, even on his passport.  fortunately for him and everyone else, he was known as Duke.  He was 8 years old when his mother died, a loss that I now believe he felt his entire life.  While all of his older siblings completed high school and went on to college or business school, he chose to leave school after the 8^th grade to work the farm with his father.  He never spoke about it, but I suspect there were times he regretted leaving school when he did.  Like his father, he loved to read; his favorite subject was political history, American and European.

My father’s name reflects the passionate social and political beliefs of my grandfather.  Spartaco was to pay homage to Spartacus, who led a failed slave revolt against the Romans.  Diagaro is Italian for Diagoras, the 5^th century Greek atheist, philosopher, and poet. 

Dad (far right) with his older brothers Bruno Ferrar (left) and Commudardo Leinido (center) in front of the farm house that was to be home for the first 18 years of my life.

The names selected by my grandfather for all of his children is worthy of a post of its own.

A CHRISTIAN NATION ?

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A facebook friend recently posted a lament that our country is at risk at no longer being a “Christian nation”.  He went on to post that…” we were birthed from the womb of Biblical standards and our CONSTITUTION is based on Christian values”.

Although I agree with his comment about our values and the undeniable cultural influence of the Bible on our social and civil mores, I am not sure what he means with the term Christian nation.

The men who drafted our constitution made it quite clear that there was to be a separation of church and state.  Even with the influence of those biblical values, we are not a theocracy.  Nowhere in the constitution does it say that Christianity, or even Theism, is an official state sanctioned belief.  We are a nation that allows its citizens to embrace any religion…or no religion. 

Regarding the values that have guided our country for so many years, it is presumptuous to claim them as exclusively Christian.  Many people of different faiths or no faith embrace those same values, and it is offensive to non-Christians to imply otherwise. To call ourselves a Christian nation simply denies value to anyone who does not wear that label.  

(For further comments on "Values" see my post on March 14th of this year.)