
Image taken at the American Museum of Natural History in October 2023.

For the first and only time, the forever home apparently qualifies as a “trend.”
■ All the Sinners Bleed (S.A. Crosby; 2023. Fiction.)
Read from the shelves. This was one of the few on President Obama’s 2023 list that I hadn’t already acquired or considered when the list was published. The reviews were so favorable that I was surprised by how thin I found it.
■ The Pallbearers Club (Paul Tremblay; 2022. Fiction.)
Read from the shelves. Perhaps it is time to acknowledge that the success and originality of 2015’s A Head Full of Ghosts was singular.
■ The Master and Margarita (Mikhail Bulgakov; 1967. Fiction.)
Read from shelves with Night School Bar. The Burgin and Tiernan translation is unmatched.
■ The Michigan Murders (Edward Keyes; 1976. Non-fiction.)
Read from the shelves. This is a true-crime classic.
■ God Is an Octopus: Love, Loss, and a Calling to Nature (Ben Goldsmith; 2023. Non-fiction.)
Read from the shelves. Again, I experienced a disconnect between the favorable reviews and my… indifference. Following the death of his teenaged daughter, Goldsmith explored numerous spiritual belief systems as he grieved and recommitted to environmental issues (e.g., rewilding). In every way, this is a book that seems written for me, but finishing it felt like an obligation.
■ An Immense World: How Animal Senses Reveal the Hidden Realms Around Us (Ed Yong; 2022. Non-fiction.)
Read from the shelves with the Sci Fri Book Club.
■ Neon Paradise (G. —; 2024 (unpublished). Drama.)
A dear friend asked me to be an early reader. The material is original and compelling, and I am excited to see where this project goes.
■ Alexander’s Bridge (Willa Cather; 1912/1922. Fiction.)
(Re)read from the shelves. Cather penned twelve novels. I’ve decided to read (in some cases, reread) one each month in chronological order.
■ The Latinist (Mark Prins; 2022. Fiction.)
Read from the shelves. Who knew how riveting a book about a classics scholar finishing her doctoral studies could be?
■ The Penelopiad (Margaret Atwood; 2005. Fiction.)
(Re)read from the shelves in anticipation of seeing this.
■ Burn It Down: Power, Complicity, and a Call for Change in Hollywood Bridge (Maureen Ryan; 2023. Fiction.)
Read from the shelves. What a terrific book! Related link.
■ Richard III (William Shakespeare; 1594. Drama.)
(Re)read from shelves. For the 2024 edition of “Shakespeare in a Year,” Marjorie Garber’s Shakespeare After All is my guide, but I began with Richard III in anticipation of this.






My images of detail from the following works:
✤ “Home Sweet Home” by Thorton Dial, Jr. (1990)
✤ “Athanor” by Anselm Kiefer (1983-84)
✤ Untitled by Lee Mullican (1971)
✤ “Hanging Clothes” by John Koch (1950)
✤ “La Méridienne (The Siesta)” by Vincent van Gogh
✤ “A Bouquet of Flowers in a Rhine Stoneware Vase…” by Maria van Oosterwijck (about 1685)
Also, the Caravaggio exhibit here is more expansive than the one we saw at the Art Institute in the fall.

Seen at the Herb and Nada Mahler Family Aviary at the Milwaukee County Zoo.

By Josephine Halvorson (2022). Seen at “50 Paintings” at Milwaukee Art Museum.
This entry was adapted from previously published posts.
In her paean to birding, Rare Encounters with Ordinary Birds, Lyanda Lynn Haupt writes:
There is a game birders play on New Year’s Day called “Bird of the Year.” The very first bird you see on the first day of the new year is your theme bird for the next 365 days. It might seem a curious custom, but people who watch birds regularly are always contriving ways to keep themselves interested. This is one of those ways. You are given the possibility of creating something extraordinary — a Year of the Osprey, Year of the Pileated Woodpecker, Year of the Trumpeter Swan. This game is an inspiration to place yourself in natural circumstances that will yield a heavenly bird, blessing your year, your perspective, your imagination, your spirit. New year, new bird.
Our family has played this game long enough that we needed to rework the rules a bit or risk getting the same birds again and again. And again. This year, as last year, I chose the first bird I espied on our first walk of the new year. Imagine my delight when a crow called to me.