Veronica Knox's Blog, page 9

April 13, 2020

DEAR JOHN

[image error] JOHN DONNE wrote
‘no man is an island’… but now we have to be:

 


 



“No man is an island entire of itself; every man
is a piece of the continent, a part of the main;
if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe
is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as
well as any manner of thy friends or of thine
own were; any man’s death diminishes me,
because I am involved in mankind.
And therefore never send to know for whom
the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.”
from ‘Devotions upon Emergent Occasions’- John Donne - 1624
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Published on April 13, 2020 10:41

APRIL 15th… A GOOD DAY / BAD DAY

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RMS TITANIC


It may have been Charles Dickens who inspired the loaded announcement ‘I have good news and bad news’ in his famous opening line: ‘It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.’
Of all the April 15ths that have come and gone, two were particularly notable: one celebrates the arrival of a beloved genius, the other, marks the infamous sinking of a doomed ship.  
A GOOD DAY – April 15, 1452
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Leonardo da Vinci 1452-1519


LEONARDO DA VINCI, is born – a child prodigy who became the consummate renaissance man. From wunderkind to master, Leonardo studied the arts of ongoing exploration: science, anatomy, and flight. He was an artist, inventor, engineer, philosopher, botanist, musician, and poet. By all accounts, Leonardo was a gentle compassionate soul, possessed of a boundless curiosity – a dedicated perfectionist, driven to record the entire world in one lifetime.
A BAD DAY – April 15, 1912 – RMS TITANIC SINKS

[image error]The RMS Titanic sank in the early morning hours of 15 April, 1912 in the North Atlantic after hitting an iceberg four days into the ship’s maiden voyage from Southampton to New York City. More than 1,500 passengers perished from an estimated 2,224 people on board Titanic, including 53 children.


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These shoes were last worn April 15, 1912 by a child from Titanic

I saw them in the Halifax Maritime Museum in 2005, and vowed I would honour the children of Titanic in a story. It took ten years of listening before I knew what to write. You can read that fictional story in ‘THE UNTHINKABLE SHOES’ *link below


A NEW DAY – April 15, 2020

Humankind rallies together under a menacing cloud, grateful for its silver linings of courage, compassion, and sacrifice. Life continues to unfold under the natural laws of duality. Daylight follows night even the during the worst of times.


Creating art remains one of humanity’s greatest celebrations of life.
P.S… STAYING HOME IS YOUR LIFEBOAT!

DISCLAIMER It feels like a strange time to talk about books and the business of marketing them, but it’s relevant to this newsletter to follow through with how these two April 15th events changed my life. I progressed from imagining stories to writing them down which led to studying the craft of writing for ten years and starting a self-publishing venture. Silent K Publishing has subsequently produced ten full-length time-slip novels that reconcile historical facts with imaginative fiction.


By happenstance, the birth of Leonardo da Vinci and the Titanic disaster inspired ‘Lisabetta’ and ‘The Unthinkable Shoes’, respectively


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‘LISABETTA – a stolen glance’ by V KNOX


THE ‘MONA LISA’ MAY BE PRICELESS… NOW SHE MUST BECOME A WOMAN WORTH SAVING

In order to reclaim her true identity, the embittered spirit of the ‘Mona Lisa’, trapped in her portrait for 500 years, must join forces with an autistic boy and his troubled mother.


THE PREMISE: WHAT-IF Leonardo da Vinci could paint the soul of a sitter into a portrait? WHAT-IF the true identity of the ‘Mona Lisa’ was lost due to a sixteenth-century typo? WHAT-IF the ‘Mona Lisa’ was Leonardo’s kid sister, Lisabetta? WHAT-IF she’s still trapped there after 500 years? WHAT-IF there’s a way to release her?… WHAT-IF an autistic six-year-old boy visiting the Louvre is her knight in shining armor? WHAT-IF his fraught mother needs saving first?


[image error] A ‘LOST BOY’ FROM THE TITANIC LOSES HIS SHOES BETWEEN HEAVEN AND THE DEEP BLUE SEA

When death separates a pair of child passengers onboard Titanic who were destined to marry, the ghost of the boy chooses to remain earthbound as the surviving girl’s invisible childhood companion in order to fulfill a sacred promise made in haste. Finding a pair of lost shoes is their one chance to reunite in the future.


In 1927, Max Ehrmann, a wise compassionate man, wrote the ‘Desiderata: “whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.” DESIDERATA – is Latin for ‘desired things’. I urge you to read and share Max Ehrmann’s original text here: https://www.desiderata.com/desiderata.html


My books are available here: https://www.amazon.com/V-Knox/e/B0094K0Q7Y
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Published on April 13, 2020 10:29

April 3, 2020

THERE’S GHOSTS IN MY CHEESE

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THE FIRST HELLO


THE FIRST HELLO
It was lunchtime in my kitchen. Innocent of anything untoward, I hummed cheerfully as I assembled the ingredients for a sandwich. Not owning a great musical voice, I make it a point to only hum in private … but then I thought I was alone.


My mother told me to never play with my food, but she didn’t say I couldn’t have a conversation with it. Anyway, I didn’t start it. The first ghost was a timid fellow (or girl) who whimpered hello just as I was about to cover him or her with lettuce.
“Hello,” I said startled, a lettuce leaf poised in the air.
“Turn the page… I mean slice,” he or she said. “There are a few of us in here.”
So I did… Picasso and Pikachu were there.
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PICASSO


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PIKACHU


 


 


 


 


 


 


 


 


“Pika pika,” Pikachu chuckled. Picasso shouted Hola Senora with a flamboyant air.
Suddenly, a bold new voice interrupted him. “Pardon me,” it said. “I be wishin’ to speak.”
The next slice revealed a pirate.
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PIRATE WITH NO NAME


 


 


 


 


 


 


 


 


“I ‘ave no memory of me name,” he said.
“Do you remember how you came by that hole in your face,” I asked.
“Aaaarh. I don’t likes to talk about it, laddie,” he replied. “Sorry, I meant to say, lady. It be a musket ball… under not so friendly fire, if ye gets me drift. Pirates are notoriously rotten shots ye ken, and cutthroat te boot.”
“Who’s that hiding behind you?”
“That be my friend, Roger. He be a shy one. He’s no fashed to show his face. No sudden moves, Missus.”
Two huge eye holes ogled me.
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TWO LOVELY BLACK EYES


“Hello Roger,” I said.

 


 


 


 


 


 


 


“Please don’t eat me, Missus,” came a muffled voice.
“No worries,” I said. “I make it a point never to eat food that talks to me.”
He got a little bolder. “I used to be much jollier,” he whimpered.
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AND A NOSE


 


 


 


 


 


 


 


 


Suddenly, he looked more together… (p.s. … I did the nose)
“Thanky,” he said. “Ye smells very nice. Like flowers, ye ken.”
“It’s Chanel no. 5,” I said. “Me daughter, Sarah, gave it to me for Christmas.”
“Mmmn, lemony. Sorry, Missus. I be stinkin’ of sour milk.”
“Better than smelling like a pirate,” I commented.
“Me full name be Jolly Roger,” he said. “I be from Switzerland.”
“Well, shiver me timbers,” I said in a formal genteel manner which made him laugh. “There aren’t many Swiss pirates.” Thus encouraged, I gave him a mouth.

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“Aaarh, that be right handsome, that be. Thanky, missus. How did ye knows what I looked like? ‘Ave we met afore?”
“I took a wild guess,” I said. “Besides, I’ve seen your flag.”


“But, if ye don’t mind me sayin’,” he boomed, “you’ll need te practise yer pirate voice if ye wants to command fear and respect.”
“I’m okay, thanks.”
“I think I’m goin’ te change me name to Monteray Jack,” he said. “I’ve mellowed since I be eaten, I ‘ave.”
“I hear Monteray’s a nice place.”
“Aaarh,” he agreed. “And there taint be so much chocolate thar.”
“Are there a lot of chocolate ghosts in Switzerland?”
“Too many if ye ask me.”
“Well, now I’m hungry for chocolate, but all I have is bread and cheese.”
“No problem,” the ghosts called out in unison.
There were five gentle popping sounds. The cheese was exorcised.
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and then there were none


 


I made sure they were gone, made a lettuce sandwich, and hastened to the nearest store for a Toblerone bar.
THE END

 

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Published on April 03, 2020 13:44

March 27, 2020

HOME ALONE 19

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‘The Scream’ by Edvard Munch


This is me… this is you… this is all of us. This is THE BIG SELFIE!


Self-isolating on a global scale has changed the dynamic of home-sweet-home. It’s solitary confinement for some, group quarantine for others, but whether you‘re home alone or locked down with loved ones, or have no pets, forced confinement can be tricky. And by that I mean antsy. Cabin fever is a real challenge. I offer some advice below to resolve that issue.




MY SELFIE
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Mole – ‘The Wind din the Willows’ by Kenneth Grahame


As an author, I’m used to working for months at a time within a self-isolating bubble, listening to imaginary characters chatting and squabbling, lost in my work-in-progress, engrossed by the big picture forever unfolding in my brain. I’ve always emerged from these literary reveries the way a mole greets the sunlight, slightly disoriented. But I’m lucky. I live by the sea next to a serious wild wood, and the salty air soon revives me.


Suffice it to say, my day job (the one that used to pay my bills) is over. I have returned to the freelance world as a book coach and developmental editor. So, if you need help with these services, the internet is user-friendly with emails. I am open for business.


I write about paintings that refuse to stay on the canvas, sentient buildings, time-travel (both Y/A and adult) and cozy paranormal romance time-slip mysteries. Here is an invitation to my website https://veronicaknox.com where I also write a blog about the eccentricities of art history delivered in cozy ghost stories.


YOUR SELFIE

Whatever your snapshot, take comfort that you’re not alone. Take a page out of Moley’s book. It takes time to adjust to a new day. Wherever and whenever you are able to venture outside, it’s the wild wood. Whatever the weather, sunshine, raindrops, and spring breezes feel wonderful on your face. Absorb birdsong, the scents of grass and flowers, wind and water, earth and rain. Nature is the essence of life. If you don’t have a garden, conjure one in your imagination. Be like Mole, visualize trees and riverbanks, and relive memories of green landscapes and blue seascapes. ‘E-scape’ online where there are no travel restrictions. And you can always time-travel in one of my cozy time-slip novels. https://www.amazon.com/V-Knox/e/B0094K0Q7Y


MY NEW NOVEL’S SELFIE

[image error]Launch date JUNE 11th ***available immediately as a Kindle pre-order for $2.99


‘DISAPP’EARRING TWICE’ – an historic fantasy of love, reincarnation, and sacrifice


Aurelia Marcus, a troubled high school student, is singled out by Jakobina, the dispirited spirit of a teenage girl trapped in a painting, in a hostage bid to resolve their mutual issues of mortality.


Jakobina, desperate to reincarnate with an old love, wants a second chance to live; Aurelia, faced with the curse of dementia that runs in her family, wants to avoid death altogether.


In 1965, their pact had seemed like a match made in heaven.


Fifty-years-on, still relentlessly shadowed by Jakobina, Aurelia rents an extraordinary castle by the sea, compelled to document her recurring dreams of a past life in a memoir of two lives she can’t quite remember.


But as the proposed year of transition approaches, Aurelia feels herself slowly disappearing into a 350 year-old-painting, one memory at a time, mourning the love she never lived with the disturbing realization that even immortality is life-threatening.


Driven to unlock an age old mystery of ill-fated lovers, and atone for betraying the boy she left behind, Aurelia summons help from an unlikely muse and spontaneously revisits her past and future in lucid dreams.


At the eleventh hour, only the ghost of a chance remains that Aurelia may remember her way home.


The preorder link for the $2.99 Kindle version of ‘DISAPP’EARRING TWICE’ is available here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B085SYZPGG


THE WORLD’S SELFIE

Is the biggest picture of all. Our collective work-in-progress demands quarantine, common sense, and patience. Whether you work on the frontlines or wait on the sidelines, it must be a committed effort. If there was ever a time for ‘hands across the sea’, this is it.


If you’re not a writer, may I suggest you start now. Begin a diary, jot down ideas, dabble at a short story or the novel you were going to write in your spare time. I can attest to the fact that the art of composing words into sentences and sentences into story is centering.


Indie authors rarely make a living from sales of their books, so consider buying an e-book in your favorite genre and hunker down for an inspiring read. I also suggest you tune in to uplifting stories on the small screen. For the present, dystopian thrillers are a tad on the nose for light entertainment. Escape into a story that inspires…. That said, you could do no better than discover ‘The Wind in the Willows’. And never, ever, underestimate the wisdom of Winnie the Pooh.


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‘The House at Pooh Corner’ by A.A. Milne


 


 


 


 


 

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Published on March 27, 2020 12:47

December 11, 2019

LEONARDO’S CAT

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Leonardo da Vinci was big on alchemy

– the science of his day, especially, the magic of mathematical proportions when it came to drawing the perfect human body. His famous spread-eagle illustration ‘The Vitruvian Man’ shows the ideal man fitting into the divine rectangle that squares the circle. It is believed to be a self-portrait of Leonardo, age 35.


We also know from Leonardo’s writings and sketchbooks that he was keen on cats, too. He developed a calligraphic shorthand for capturing fleeting moments in cats and birds that embody their quick movements in a few swift pen strokes.


Similarly, in an alchemy of our own, we authors of fiction, attempt to ‘square’ opening hooks and inciting incidents that fit into divine plots within the constructs of a classic three-act formula. An accepted format calculated to give hints but never give away endings.

 


GHOST CATS FEATURE HEAVILY IN MY TIME-SLIP NOVELS

In my middle-grade to Y/A ‘Bede Series’ adventures: ‘TWINTER – the first portal’ and ‘TIME FALLS LIKE SNOW’ , a colony of royal cats from the temple of Bast in ancient Egypt are the gatekeepers of time travel. And in present day Northumbria, near Hadrian’s Wall, Great Britain, only sensitive children can hear Bede Hall’s housecats conversing in English.


In ‘ADORATION – loving Botticelli’, a cat reincarnates through several of her nine lives in order to reunite lovers separated by centuries.


In my latest novel ‘DISAPP’EARRING TWICE’ the troubled heroine, beset by the dispirited spirit of a girl from a famous painting, time travels back and forth between her teenage years and old age, relying on a sentient cat clock in the form of the cartoon character, Felix, to ground her shaky sanity.


LIVING FOREVER MAY BE DETRIMENTAL TO YOUR HEALTH… ONLY ART IS TRULY IMMORTAL

‘DISAPP’EARRING TWICE’ is scheduled for launch in late January – 2020, so in the true spirit of 2020 hindsight, or is it foresight, I leave you with best wishes for a divine Christmas and a purr’fect New Year of circles and squares.


Cheers, Veronica


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APPEARANCES CAN BE DECEIVINGDISAPPEARANCES CAN BE REVEALING
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DISAPP’EARRING TWICE – a work-in-progress by V KNOX


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Published on December 11, 2019 02:07

October 29, 2019

CHARACTERS DYING TO TELL THEIR TALES

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Presenting three of my artful characters dying to speak: LISABETTA BUTI (the ‘Mona Lisa’ and Leonardo da Vinci’s kid sister), SANDRO BOTTICELLI (fifteenth-century master painter), and FINN CLEARY (a child victim onboard Titanic)

When the red leaves fall, the October sky darkens with rain and snow, and the frost on the pumpkin glows silver in the moonlight, banish the shadows that play on human fear. Relax into a haunting story from the borders of the afterlife where the ghosts are family, twists of fate transcend time, and love is more powerful than death.


I remain intent on listening to the ethereal echoes from objects in museums and voices of the long since departed, dying to tell their truth.


Have a safe Halloween. Especially the ‘black cats’ of every color out there – V Knox


Historical facts meet magical fiction in THREE GHOSTLY NOVELS by V KNOX:

‘LISABETTA’


https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07K6SBB78


‘ADORATION – LOVING BOTTICELLI’


https://www.amazon.com/Adoration-Loving-Botticelli-V-Knox-ebook/dp/B019JKI3GE/


‘THE UNTHINKABLE SHOES’


https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B01E4Q95A6


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DISAPP’EARRING TWICE – a work-in-progress by V KNOX


My latest Art History Mystery ‘DISAPP’EARRING TWICE’ featuring ‘The Girl With A Pearl Earring’ is due to launch in January, 2020. My newsletter with a synopsis and excerpts will be sent on November 22nd.

 


 


Please sign up here to be on my mailing list. https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/f7e8a1


Sample my ten e-books here: https://www.amazon.com/V-Knox/e/B0094K0Q7Y

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Published on October 29, 2019 10:46

September 25, 2019

IT’S FELIX TIME

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WHAT BETTER WAY TO MEASURE TIME TRAVEL IS THERE THAN BY CONSULTING A MUSE WHO IS AN ANIMATED (read imbued with life) CLOCK

 


 


A muse is invisible – a voice in one’s head with more knowledge than one gives themselves credit for. In my present work-in-progress, ‘DISAPPEARRING TWICE’. Aurelia Marcus retires to an isolated island to live out her days before complying with an extraordinary pact made in high school.

When Aurelia was seventeen she was confronted by Jacobina, the dispirited spirit of the girl in Vermeer’s ‘Girl With A Pearl Earring’ masterpiece, after a slide projector in her art history class expelled the girl’s image into the world.


Jacobina wanted to be released from her imposed curse of immortality to reincarnate with her beloved. Aurelia, convinced she will eventually succumb to her family’s curse of dementia, agrees to avoid death altogether by melting into the painting as Jacobina ventures out.


When the girls were seventeen their scheme appeared to be a pact made in heaven, but now, fifty years later, Aurelias’s recurring disappearing acts are out of control and she yearns for the high school love she sacrificed in good faith, and to resolve a mysterious incident she’s suppressed since the twelfth grade.


The eccentric Aurelia relies on several voices in her head to guide her, but out of desperation, she attaches the loudest voice to a familiar object with a face, the Felix clock in her kitchen, who becomes a tangible muse she can turn to at any hour.


Aurelia also depends on Canary, a rescue dog adopted as a guardian against an untoward intruder who threatens her privacy. Canary, named for the early warning canaries miners took down the mines, turns out to be a natural therapy dog able to ground Aurelia during unprompted ‘episodes’ of lucid memory shifts she calls her ‘earthquakes of the mind’.


The term ‘senior’ takes on a new meaning when spontaneous school flashbacks and futuristic presentations trigger a new take on life and death, but then the strangest of strangers appears with a compelling solution.


Is Aurelia’s unstable mental state a lucid dream or is she being dreamed in a parallel dimension? Is reality the stuff of dreams? Appearances can be deceiving, and time is running out.


But there’s a ghost of a chance Aurelia will find her way home before the eleventh hour transforms her into a painting.
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DISAPPEARRING TWICE – a work-in-progress by V KNOX


 


 


 


 


 


 


 



EXCERPT from ‘DISAPPEARRING TWICE’
*estimated launch date May 2020

[Apart from the Felix clock with its roving cartoon eyes, the kitchen is one of Jacobina’s favorite hangouts… I don’t like to use the word haunts, although I can confirm that pestering the living with requests is the essence of haunting, and, I believe, the primary inclination of apparitions in general.


Jacobina is more than a vaporous shell. She’s family. We’ve been together ever since we met in high school when she proposed a pact to resolve our mutual issues of mortality. Jacobina wanted a second chance to live and I wanted to avoid death altogether. We were unbelievably young. It had seemed like a match made in heaven.]


Here is the link to my available books: https://www.amazon.com/V-Knox/e/B0094K0Q7Y


 


 


 

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Published on September 25, 2019 10:16

March 23, 2019

LEONARDO’S CAMERA…

[image error] the low tech high-renaissance 15th century i-phone
Leonardo carried these ‘libricini’ (tiny notebooks) everywhere to record what he saw and jot down ideas. Texting was 500 years in Leonardo’s future. Writing was awkward. It’s not as if Leonardo carried a ballpoint pen with sepia ink. He had to carry a vial of liquid ink and a quill.
[image error] Leonardo’s camera is the same size and weight as a cell phone, always handy, and fits into a pocket.
[image error] It had a protective leather case and a safety clasp.
[image error] If Leonardo had been able to take a selfie in 1474 he would have looked like this:
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Leonardo da Vinci, self-portrait age 24 from his unfinished ‘Adoration of the Magi’


learn more about Leonardo and his sister LISABETTA – a stolen glance


https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07K6SBB78  


https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0993738087


https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/f7e8a1

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Published on March 23, 2019 08:04

February 19, 2019

LEONARDO’S GHOST DOG… BEST IN SHOW

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detail of the ‘Tobias and the Angel’ altarpiece from the studio of Andrea del Verrocchio c. 1467


There is a fifteenth-century Italian painting in the National Gallery of London entitled ‘TOBIAS AND THE ANGEL’. I have a love/hate relationship with this 33 in. x 26 in. panel for a Florentine altarpiece.

No doubt, this painting seen from ‘on high’ in less than optimum lighting conditions, was not only significantly removed from close scrutiny by its location, but of less interest to spectators more intent on the religious goings on beneath it.


It’s what I would call a hands-on teaching device, and too many inept hands have contributed to its production because the workshop where it was created was also a teaching institution for young artisans. Apprentices, often unchaperoned, dived into projects and did their best. Like any factory, there were deadlines to complete and ever-present incoming orders. And like any undisciplined kitchen, this painting suffered from the effects of ‘too many cooks spoiling the broth’… save one.


Leonardo da Vinci, apprentice wunderkind, entered Verrocchio’s ‘bottega’ as a young teenager. His natural genius singled him out, and so it’s no surprise that the elements of this painting that sing amongst a discord of tuneless voices are where his contributions shine.


Clearly, not all apprentices are created equal. Finite details are the precepts of artists with a passion for accuracy. Leonardo’s sensitivity and dedication to keenly observing and documenting the natural world: flora and fauna, the atmospheric effects of weather (sfumato), and especially light, are his special trademarks.


Master artists develop clear forensic signatures that reveal their creative presence at first sight. Leonardo da Vinci’s input to this blatantly flawed group painting are its saving grace. Experts on the specific forensics of Leonardo have settled on three areas that telegraph ‘Leonardo was here’: the sparkling fish, the boy’s windblown hair, and first prize – the ghostly dog, disappearing from one of Leonardo’s early misadventures with mixed media. (case in point: ‘The Last Supper’ and its infamous ongoing mishap with an untried plaster recipe)

The dog, painted lightly in an early experimental stage of oil paints over an egg tempera base, didn’t quite stick and it has been slip-sliding from the surface, fading deeper into a ghostly apparition from the effects of age and light with every year.


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We can see through the dog to the landscape behind it, but this only gives the prancing dog more appeal. Fading does not distract from its lively personality. It’s alert.


This is a real dog.


 


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The fish is real. The boy’s delicate fly-away curls are affected by a real breeze. ( p.s. ignore the face by another artist who has attempted an impossible three-quarter view and a full profile at the same time… kind of creepy)


 


But what I love most about this painting is that it survived. Many paintings are lost. This one gives us a snapshot of a master genius as his talent manifested in his early years.

 


THE BIGGER PICTURE… THE EXAMINED ART

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Mistakes are part of the learning process, and an altarpiece is not meant to be scrutinized up close and personal as a painting hung in a modern gallery. Most of its glaring errors of perspective, composition, and anatomy would have escaped the untrained eye… and, I speculate, overlooked by the trained ones in order to meet a contract’s delivery date. Deadlines rule. Time is business.


Leonardo eventually surpassed his teacher, Master Verrocchio, who was known for his three-dimensional statues in clay, terracotta, wood and marble, and his engineering skills. In my opinion, painting the human figure was clearly not Verrocchio’s forte. His painted figures were either boneless or they were severely deformed (see the boy’s twisted leg and the figures’ unnatural claw-like fingers)


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The angel’s ungainly marble body is conveniently hidden under vast layers of elaborate robes. He and the boy are placed in close proximity like pasted cardboard dolls as if they are interacting but they are inanimate shapes.


The boy’s painfully twisted limbs, unable to be hidden under drapery, seem made of rubber. And here we can also see that the illusion of a true depth of field is dashed as the tassel from his cloak has become entangled with a tree on the horizon, miles away. The angel’s wings seem carved from solid wood, (not a feather in sight), would scarcely flutter in the strongest tempest and hardly lift a marble angel off the ground, and a cloud, more like a horizontal icicle painfully pokes the boy’s head. And what, pray tell, are the white puffballs on the road? Poached eggs made of stone, blobs of shaving cream, seashells with legs, or evidence of the first popcorn explosion? No… they are plain Italian rocks.


Andrea del Verrocchio’s workshop, where this group painting was created, was more a factory than an artists’ studio. The truth is, the art studios of fifteenth-century Florence were commercial factories staffed by dozens of trade workers and artisans along with a motley crew of aspiring apprentices with various levels of expertise. Apprentices were trained by mucking in as early as possible, anywhere an extra hand could be employed, and time constraints in a constantly moving production line meant quality control was not always a prime concern. Deafening with the constant sounds of construction: machinery, chisels on marble, wood being sawed and hammered together for scaffolding and custom designed furniture, and the squeals of winches, one wall needed to open to the air in order to alleviate the heat of blasting furnaces working metal, pottery kilns, and the noxious fumes of chemicals from distilling varnish, mixing plaster and grinding paint.


Amongst the din and dust, engineers and architects designed buildings, bridges, and weaponry. The wholesale manufacture of ceramic saints, props for theatrical projects, fine gold jewelry, and heavy armor were made in the same creative chaos.
A typical classroom it was not.
Be it art show or dog show, in my book, Leonardo’s pup takes first prize!
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Published on February 19, 2019 15:59

January 15, 2019

CELEBRATION OF A TYPO

…how a 500-year-old spelling mistake was enough to confound history and gift me a premise for a time-slip ghost story

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Excerpt from ‘LISABETTA-a stolen glance’



[But for a single misshapen letter, I would be musing in heaven. The letter ‘a’ deposed me. Betrayed me. Sabotaged me. It was not even a whole letter but the merest tail of one. My legacy was tied to the tail of a hapless letter ‘a’ that unseated me from Gioconda to Giocondo.]

But for an untimely pen, a spluttering candle, and a myopic historian, I would be the celebrated ‘laughing woman’. I am most certainly NOT the dreary wife of a common silk merchant.


I was well acquainted with Monna Lisa Giocondo but we were never friends. And yet, she envied me as much as I despised her and all the dainty women of her class. I am galled to be misidentified as Mrs. Giocondo. Of all the insipid women…the world could not have chosen a more perfect way to insult me.


A parched quill simply ran dry, and my story moved on without me.


I didn’t steal away. I was stolen. Dethroned. Many many times. – Lisabetta ]


 


THE BIRTH OF A STORY… the premise and the promise

Paranormal fiction has to be stranger than historical facts


I premise the most intriguing paranormal stories are inspired by true events based on historical documents and hearsay shared freely by the people of the day in their diaries and letters. A writer’s imagination fills in the missing DNA.


A MAJOR LIGHTBULB FACT kickstarted my fictional story about the mistaken identity of the ‘Mona Lisa’:


A Florentine census from 1463 references that Caterina, Leonardo da Vinci’s mother, gave birth to six children, including a daughter named Lisabetta.


Leonardo had a half-sister named Lisa! What are the odds. Coincidence? Not to a writer! Paternity was a tad fuzzy in the fifteenth-century. What if Lisabetta was the second lovechild of Caterina and Piero da Vinci… Leonardo’s full sibling with whom he had strong biological and creative ties?


What if Lisabetta was the stabilizing influence for Leonardo’s erratic creative nature?


The ‘Mona Lisa’s identity has several contenders. Lisa Giocondo is only one of many undocumented theories. WHAT IF the word ‘gioconda’, the smiling woman, (a reasonable description to have been attributed to the ‘Mona Lisa’), was confused with a second portrait commissioned by the ‘Giocondo’ family? History is confounded and the wrong Lisa is hailed as the ‘Mona Lisa’! What if there were two portraits painted in 1503?


ADD A DASH OF HEARSAY

The ‘Mona Lisa’ is often speculated to be an androgynous self-portrait of Leonardo… my muse whispered “brother and sister lookalikes.”


THE PREMISE

For 500 years, Lisabetta’s spirit is restless. After being dismissed all her life as insignificant, the final irony of having the most famous face in the world yet remaining anonymous, eclipsed by another woman named Lisa whom she couldn’t abide in real life, is too much to bear. Slighted and bitter, she demands to be acknowledged and take her rightful place at Leonardo’s side. But she’s trapped in her portrait with no apparent cause. And then she meets a boy visiting the Louvre, and ‘Saving Face’ takes on a whole new meaning.


THE PREMISE BECOMES A PROMISE… the story quickens

– Lisabetta, a woman who made a mistake in the past, is mistaken for the woman she slighted. She must join forces with an autistic boy in the 21st century, suffering his own version of invisibility, to overcome their parallel identity crises.


THE PROMISE CRYSTALIZES  

WHAT IF: Leonardo da Vinci could paint the soul of a sitter into a portrait?


WHAT IF: the sitter for the ‘Mona Lisa’ was Leonardo’s younger sister, Lisabetta?


WHAT IF: she’s still there in the Louvre after 500 years?


WHAT IF: there’s a way to release her?…


WHAT IF: an autistic six-year-old boy is her knight in shining armor?


LISABETTA’S VOICE GROWS STRONGER AND SHE WRITES A SYNOPSIS FOR HER OWN STORY



“My name, Lisabetta Buti, was an affront to my existence.
I was Leonardo da Vinci’s beloved kid-sister, his assistant and apprentice, and, for the most part, the mother he was denied.
We were born six-years-apart, as close as twins, and when I was old enough to walk, my brother made me a promise that we would never be parted.
 And so it transpired, in the particularly vexing season of 1503, deep in financial debt, and forced to paint the dreary wife of a silk merchant, Leonardo was overcome, as in his early years, by a new quest. And with all due haste, circumstances conspired that he was able to complete the Giocondo commission early, and I was cajoled into posing for a new kind of portrait.
But there, my identity crisis sprouted wings because both our names were Lisa.
It was the sort of portrait only a true visionary would attempt. Leonardo believed he could capture the true essence of a human spirit in paint, and not long afterwards, Leonardo kept his promise.
We remained inseparable even after my death, and I traveled with him as a living icon painted on a small panel of poplar wood – his sentient companion to the end of his days.
But as time progressed, a further humiliation was heaped upon my portrait by the title ‘La Gioconda’ (the smiling woman)– I have endured this mistaken identify for 500 years, and it’s time to end the nonsense. I am the Mona Lisa!
One small letter ‘a’ is all it takes to confound history.”
– Lisabetta  (da Vinci)

 [image error]


LISABETTA – a stolen glance


https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07K6SBB78  


V KNOX AMAZON author page


https://www.amazon.com/V-Knox/e/B0094K0Q7Y


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Published on January 15, 2019 05:14