In the Abstract

I love looking at art and there are many artists I admire  –  Caravaggio,  Lautrec,  Alice Neel and Lucien Freud,  Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo,  Renoir and Degas,  John Singer Sargent,  Chagall,  Andrew Wyeth,  Thomas Eakins,  Andy Warhol,  Franz Marc,  Goya and Velasquez,  Edward Hopper,  Modigliani,  Mary Cassatt and Berthe Morisot,  Cezanne,  Raphael Soyer and Ben Shahn,  Will Barnett and Jacob Lawrence,  Picasso,  Magritte,  Max Beckmann and Otto Dix, Van Gogh...

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The Roar of the Greasepaint – for Miriam and Sol

I had a long and happy career as a school librarian,  but to tell you the truth since I was a girl I dreamt of a life on the stage! Acting runs in my family.  My beautiful and glamorous great-aunt Miriam Elias studied at the Moscow Art Theatre with the great Stanislavski,   and according to family legend,  had a dalliance with the great Russian artist and theatre designer Marc Chagall.  In Moscow she married another designer, Boris Aronson.  The marriage didn’t last,  but years...

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My Ducky Friend – for Judy

We’ve lost too many good friends this year and one was Judy Revis. In 1967 a few months after I met my husband Danny,  we drove from New York to Boston to spend New Year’s Eve with Danny’s college roommate Kenny and his wife Judy.  I liked them immediately,  but over the following many years,  geography kept us apart. Although Kenny and Danny spoke often and had their Brandeis friendship to build on,  Judy and I saw each too seldom to form a really close bond. But...

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Mother’s Day 1985, Van Cortlandt Park

After the brunch and the long-stemmed rose,  we stopped in the park for a catch. My husband took the baseball gloves from the car and tossed one to each of us. You two spread out, he said,  and we trotted obediently across the grass. He threw the first ball to me,  and I shielded my eyes as I watched it sail through the sunny Bronx sky. Aim right at it Mom,  and then close your glove,  yelled my son. But my heart was too full and I lost the ball in my tears. Dana Susan Lehrman  

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Aunt Babs and Uncle Paul

My aunt Babs and uncle Paul and were high school sweethearts who met as kids in the Rockaways.   Family legend has it when he was in medical school at NYU and Babs was at Skidmore College up in Saratoga,  Paul was missing her so he couldn’t concentrate on his studies,  would cut classes to play Bridge,  and had to repeat a year. But Paul eventually buckled down,  he and Babs got married,  and though my cousins Debra and Robin weren’t yet born,  when Paul graduated from...

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