Synophrys or Better Known as the Unibrow

A while back, Yam was looking through some old family photos and asked me on whose side of the family came the unibrows? I said they came from Granddad's side (which is surprising, as the bit of Greek DNA that is coursing through my veins is from my mom's side...more on the Greeks in a bit).

Here is a high school picture of my father. His unibrow is present. It is not a heavy unibrow, but still a unibrow.

This is a baby picture of me...no unibrow visible...yet.

By the time this school picture was taken (I think around second or third grade), I was sporting a faint unibrow.

In ancient times, unibrows were held in high esteem. In the Arab culture they were a sign of beauty as well as purity. The Greeks thought that unibrows were a sign of intelligence or wisdom. Women would use makeup to draw in a continuous brow if they did not possess one naturally.

 image from Internet

image from Internet 

 image from Internet

It was during the middle ages in Europe, that foreheads of women became the focal point of beauty. Women began to pluck the hairs of their eyebrows. They plucked them into thin lines and separated any continuous brow. Throughout the ages, women's eyebrows have gone from bushy to thin to bushy again (who can say Brooke Shields?). The artist, Frida Kahlo, was famous for her case of synophrys (as well as a faint mustache) and there is a Greek/Cypriot model who wears her unibrow very proudly.

 image from Internet

image from Internet

Thank God my unibrow was never as dark or heavy as the two ladies above. With that said, I did not like sporting one. When I was growing up (before Brooke Shields became so popular), it was not cool to have thick, natural eyebrows. I allowed one of my older sisters to gain access to my brow(s). She wielded those tweezers in an Edward Scissorhands-like fashion. By the time she was finished, I was in pain, had watery eyes and barely any brows left.

My eyebrows never fully recovered from the "defoliation" that they were subject to. Throughout the years I have been trying to grow back some of my natural brow line (minus the hairs over the bridge of my nose). Some areas just did not grow back. In the picture below, my brows are in a more natural state.

Alas, now that my brows are back to "normal", they are beginning to turn gray in places. The gray makes my brows look thin and stunted. Like the ladies of old, I have to resort to makeup to add more brow...I will "draw the line" at a unibrow though!

Daughters and Dots

My Daughters of the American Revolution (DAR) chapter does not hold meetings from June through September. Our yearly meetings run from October to May. Some of our chapter members are Snowbirds and they head back up north for the summer. We locals, if we are not on vacation, get together a few times and have fun during the off months.

Back in July, we met at our Regent's (president of our chapter) house and had fun painting wine glasses. For under $30, an artist came to the house with all of the supplies (including the glasses) and guided us on our foray into glass painting. She had plenty of templates for things we could decorate our wine glasses with: shells, turtles, pineapples, starfish, palm trees, to list a few. One lady decided to free-hand a flamingo for her glasses. She did a good job too. I  chose to paint starfish on my glasses.

When I was in high school, I took art classes. I remember when I was first exposed to the painting technique called Pointillism. It is the process of using pure dots of color to create a picture. I like the look of Pointillism and it is a forgiving technique. One of the first pictures I created with dots in high school was this picture of peppers.

I eventually had it matted and framed and entered it for a 4-H Fine Arts competition. It won an award that allowed it to go to the state fair. My peppers won a Reserve Grand Champion ribbon at the state fair...the picture that won the Grand Champion ribbon was created by one of my sisters. I still create Pointillism pictures once in a while. The picture of an Ibis below was created a few years ago and it hangs on the side of my fridge.

So, back to my starfish on glass...The paint I used was acrylic and I used one of the templates our instructor had provided. She told us to take the little pieces of paper that had the patterns on them and put them inside the glass. Once the pattern was pushed against the inside of the glass, we stuffed paper towels in the glass so that the patterns did not move.

We each had two glasses to paint. I decided to paint a different color starfish on each of my glasses, one for The Colonel and one for myself (Heaven forbid we get our glasses mixed up and he drink from mine or vice versa...even after nearly 32 years of marriage I find it distasteful to drink after him).

It was a fun evening with the other ladies. We laughed and talked as we created our artworks on glass.

I was pleased with my paint job. I was eager to take them home to show The Colonel. He liked them. There were two ways we could "set the paint" on the glasses according to our artist guide. One way was to let the paint dry for three weeks. The other was to put your glasses in a cold oven and then bake them at 350 degrees for thirty minutes and finally let them cool down in the oven. I chose the oven method...who could wait three weeks to drink wine out of their works of art?

Not me! 

Wordless Wednesday

Ivan the Gorilla

The other day The Colonel and I were in town and decided to stop in at the local, independent bookstore. We had hoped to say hello to the owners, Cathy and Serena, and then browse around. Cathy and Serena were not there that day but we still browsed. The Colonel and I always find a book(s) when we go to Copperfish Books.

While in the bookstore, we popped into the children's section. We never know if we will find a book for nieces or nephews. I was looking at the books on one shelf, when one caught my eye. It had a picture of a gorilla on it as well as the name Ivan.

I took the book down and called The Colonel to me. I said I wondered if this was a book about the Ivan we first saw 31 years ago, while living in Tacoma, Washington. Yes, it is a book inspired by that Ivan's life.

The Colonel and I saw Ivan for the first time when we visited the B&I store.

The store was originally a hardware store opened in 1946 by Mr. Bradshaw and Mr. Irwin (B&I). Over time the store sold non-hardware items and in 1948 they added a carousel (it was still in service when we were in the store). In 1953, the owners began bringing animals to the store. An elephant named Sammy and chimps named Cathy and Murphy. With all of the animal attractions there, the store became known as the B&I Circus store. In the 1960s, celebrities began to make appearances at the store: Joe Lewis the boxer and Burt Ward (Robin from the television series "Batman"), to mention a couple.

Ivan the gorilla was a western lowland gorilla. He was born in 1962 in the Congo. He and another infant gorilla were captured by poachers and later sold to the owners of the B&I store for $7,500. A contest was held for the naming of the infants. The names had to begin with a B and an I. The winner would get $500. The name Burma (for the female infant) and Ivan (for the male infant) were chosen.

Burma (left) and Ivan (right)

Burma arrived at the store before Ivan. She soon died due to internal complications. Ruben Johnston, the manager of the pet store section of B&I, took Ivan home to live with his family. During his stay with the Johnston family, Ivan appeared in ads and promotions for B&I. He was also co-star in a Daktari episode. He and the Johnstons traveled to California for the three weeks of filming. Ivan was paid $500 a day.

Ivan lived with the Johnston family for four years. He was becoming too big and strong to continue living with them. So, in 1967, Ivan was moved to the B&I store.  He was housed in a 40 X 40 cement enclosure within the store. He would live there for 27 years, never going outside. There were large windows that shoppers and visitors could look through to see Ivan in his enclosure.

The Colonel and I saw Ivan open his birthday presents and eat cake once. He got a basketball (which he eventually popped).

Ivan liked stuffed animal toys. He had a stuffed gorilla. Ivan would swing from a suspended tire that was in his enclosure and he had a television that he liked to watch. He also loved to paint. He particularly liked the color red. Ivan would "sign" his paintings with his fingerprint. His paintings were even sold.

One time, when The Colonel and I were watching Ivan, he ran up to the windows and pounded on them and then ran back away. That was a bit scary. I am sure Ivan liked shocking the onlookers as a joke and a way to mitigate his ennui.

I had a nightmare once or twice about being in the store shopping, with Ivan breaking out of his enclosure and running through the throngs of shoppers to get me.

It made us sad to see Ivan in his enclosure and knowing he had never been outside or had contact with another gorilla. Gorillas are intelligent and social creatures. The times were changing and ideas about keeping Ivan in his "home" were changing too. In 1994, Ivan was loaned to the Atlanta Zoo. At first, he had difficulties socializing with the other gorillas. He preferred A/C, TV and human company.

In 1995, Ivan went out of doors for the first time at the zoo. That first day out he looked at a flower.

Ivan eventually socialized with the other gorillas at the zoo (but still preferred his human relationships). He was observed mating on occasion but he never sired any offspring. He lived at the Atlanta Zoo for seventeen years before his death in 2012 at the age of 50.

Some of Ivan's cremains (ashes) were incorporated into a bronze statue depicting his first day outside. The statue is in Point Defiance Park in Tacoma, Washington (remember, Ivan lived in Tacoma for 32 years).

I finished the book. I liked it. What I really like is that Ivan was able to live the last several years of his life with other gorillas and enjoy the feel of grass under his feet, sunshine on his face and fresh air caressing the silver fur on his back.

(All photos are from the Internet)

A Whole Other Language

The frequent visitors to this blog of mine will know that The Colonel and I volunteer for our county's historical center. Sometimes we get to dress up as we help with the center's programs. Today we helped with the last program for the kids' summer camps. Tomorrow the local children start a new school year. Where did the summer go?

The last program was entitled "The Language of the Fan". We taught the children about language of the fan and then they got to make one of their own.

"There's a language of the fan?"

You betcha and it is quite intricate. Ladies, cinch your corsets and gentlemen, straighten your cravats and let's learn a new language.

A little history lesson, of course (I know one of the reasons you visit my blog is to learn something new while having fun...right?) ...

The 18th century was the zenith of the fan. It was an essential accessory in a stuffy, crowded ballroom. Fans were constructed out of many things: ivory, silk, paper, lace to name a few. There were fans for all occasions and they were one of the earliest forms of tourist souvenirs, painted or printed with beautiful landscapes and current interests.

No matter how fashionable a lady's fan, she would not be considered elegant unless she held it in the correct way. Young ladies were instructed as to the proper ways to handle their fans.

18th century ladies used their fan for more than staying cool in those stuffy ballrooms. They used  it as a form of expression. The fan became a part of the lady's body language. Ladies used this "Language of the Fan" to communicate messages across the room without saying a word.

(My best "Lady's" costume I could put together from my closet and the Historical Center's costume closet...I would have stirred up quite the scandal back in the day, as I did not have a corset under my costume!)

To learn and use the fan language, it was vital to know your right from your left.

Touching right cheek - yes

Touching left cheek - no

Twirling in right hand - I love another

Twirling in left hand - we are being watched

Placing on left ear - I wish to be rid of you

There are roughly 32 movements to the language of the fan (that I am aware of ) but I will not list them all. Here are a few I find interesting.

A closed fan touching the right eye - When may I be allowed to see you?

A half-opened fan pressed to the lips - You may kiss me.

Drawing the fan across the eyes - I am sorry.

Fanning slowly - I am married.

Fanning rapidly - I am engaged.

Drawing the fan across the forehead - You have changed.

Drawing the fan across the cheek - I love you!

Drawing the fan through the hand - I hate you!

Hands clasped together holding the fan open - Forgive me.

Fan in right hand in front of face - Follow me.

Fan in left hand in front of face - I am desirous of your acquaintance.

My goodness, if I had been living during the height of language of the fan, I just might have made a few faux pas while in a stuffy, crowed ballroom and ended up in a very unladylike situation with a dishonorable rake (especially while not wearing a corset)!

After we gave the children a little lesson on the fan's language (I demonstrated the movements as someone else spoke about them) we helped them to make a fan of their own. They would use paper, ribbon, Popsicle sticks and glue.

They accordion folded the colored piece of paper, as well as the paper with an alligator on it, and then glued the pieces together. We punched holes at the base of their fans and helped the kids tie the ribbons on. We also helped them glue the sticks to their fans.

This is the fan I made while showing the kids how to make theirs.

These little handmade fans are the perfect size for the kids to carry in their backpacks as they begin a new school year during one of the hottest months here in Florida.