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At least he has his mother: This boyfriend failed to win back the affection of his one-time flame by sharing that his mother had made him a 'delicious' meatloaf out of a gift of meat from his ex before their split.
Not so pukka: Handing back each others possessions can be one of the hardest parts about a break up. The views expressed in the contents above are those of our users and do not necessarily reflect the views of MailOnline. Anti-aging products that fill pharmacy shelves and magazine advertising space push the message that it is better to look, feel and be younger. To help you feel great about getting older, we’ve assembled nine of our favorite quotes about aging. Jan Bohuslav Sobota died on May 2nd of 2012 and this is my remembrance of this fine man who was a friend and mentor to me. Each autumn, salmon return to the rivers of their birth a€“ there to spawn and once again trigger a renewal of the eternal passion play. Salmon that do eventually arrive at their destinations must once again compete a€“ this time for mates and to fight for access to the precious and very limited gravels. The profligate expenditure of life and extravagant wealth of biology is there everywhere to behold, as Death dances lightly among the gathering throngs of fish, picking and choosing from among them; who from their number shall successfully spawn and who shall just be food for the gathering predators and scavengers. Spend a day in silence, walking among the spawning salmon, as they dig spawning redds, jockey for position and slash at competitors with those gaping, snaggletoothed, hooked jaws. Jan Bohuslav Sobota has died, while half a world away; I was preparing these etchings of Spawned Salmon and dedicating them to Jan, the lover of fish. The book you hold in your hands has evolved from my simply giving these etchings a second life in book form, to my using them as a vehicle for honoring a friendship of three decades.
In 1985, Jan and I had been corresponding for some months without ever meeting a€“ all quite distant and correct.
A short bit of background on Jan Sobota to begin, but fear not; Ia€™ll soon be spinning anecdotes and thoughts on books as art a€“ celebrating Jana€™s life of course, telling a few stories out of school, but also straying into the personal and speculative in search of the meaning to be derived from the life and death of a friend. Jana€™s father was a serious bibliophile and collector of fine books, who nurtured that same love of books in his son a€“ an appreciation that steadily grew, until he was apprenticed to master bookbinder Karel A ilinger in PlzeA?.
The pivotal event in Jana€™s early life as a book artist was the posthumous retrospective exhibition of fellow Pilsener, Josef VA?chal in 1969.
Jan supported a family, sponsored workshops, exhibited widely, did conservation work on rare historic books, ran a gallery a€“ and on it went. What Jan did for contemporary bookbinding, was to act as a bridge between the traditionally trained masters of the past and innovators of the present.
America was a great place to be a book artist in the early 1980a€™s precisely because it was an active zone of hybridization and hotbed of creativity.
An instructive contrast to the anything-goes US scene was the icy reception I got when I showed a wooden box containing loose sheets of poetry and etchings to a Prague publisher. Neither Jan nor I had much interest in the book-like objects that often sneak into the museums as book arts a€“ the carved and glued together things that sorta, kinda have a bookish aspect to them a€“ rough-looking a€“ perhaps chain-sawed Oaken boards or granite slabs, slathered in tar and lashed together with jute; but lacking text. When Jana€™s books went beyond function, conservation or decoration, they were subtle statements about binding and the place of books, knowledge and art, as well as statements about the dignity inhering in the handcrafted - with a good dose humor. There are others who know their conservation and those, whose scientific contributions are far greater, but few of them are also artists at heart. It can sound so pedestrian, these eternal compromises between art and craft, yet what Jan represented was not at all common.
There is an inflection point at which exceptional craft begins to make the transition to art and it is closely associated with surmounting the limitations inhering to the discipline.
Visiting with Jan in his workshop you quickly realized, that he did what a professional must, but ultimately, he just loved messing about with books. A curiously protean hybrid of artist and craftsman, ancient and modern, one cannot think of Jan without seeing an unabashed Czech patriot in a foreign land.
Early on in their stay in Cleveland, the Sobotas experienced the quintessential American disaster. Even after their medical debts were retired, money was still an issue for a family of immigrants with three kids a€“ two with special needs. Later on, when they were living in Texas, the massacre at Waco opened Jana€™s eyes to yet another difficult side of his adopted home. In 1979, I apprenticed with Jindra Schmidt, an engraver of stamps and currency, living in Prague. Schmidt had engraved stamps for Bulgaria, Iraq, Ethiopia, Albania, Guinea, Vietnam and Libya. In 1992, Jindra Schmidt was honored for his contributions and depicted on the last stamp of a united Czechoslovakia, before it split into Czech and Slovak republics a€“ a fitting tribute. Unlike most children of immigrants, my destiny remained connected to that of my parentsa€™ homeland.
My vocation as artist clarified itself in Prague while learning the increasingly obsolete skills of steel engraving.
My first book was indeed, modeled after VA?chal, even to the extent of its diabolical subject matter. Jan showed me a great deal in the following years about the tradition of books as the meeting place of art, craft and ideas a€“ where printmaking intergrades seamlessly with the worlds of language, typography and illustration. One can like these things just fine and admire them from an uncomprehending distance, or you can become engaged. The book you hold was to have been a simple reprint of the Spawned Salmon a€“ something fun for Jan to work his magic upon. Nice sentimental reminiscences, but there is still the matter of getting the work accomplished and out before the public, organizing exhibitions, printing catalogs and paying for transatlantic flights.
The Prague show was reconfigured and curated by Jana€?s longtime friend, Ilja A edo, for exhibition at the West Bohemian Museum in PlzeA?.
Quite predictably, I like seeing the kind of work I do honored a€“ the wood engravings and etchings made to shine in the context of crisply printed type and an excellent binding. Ia€™ve heard printmakers lament that the surest way to devalue prints is to add excellent poetry, sensitive typography and a bang-up binding a€“ and then live to see the whole thing sell for half the price of just the unbound prints.
Therea€™s nothing quite like seventeenth century Bohemia, the dead center of Europe, for particularly thorough violence a€“ with the Bubonic Plague stepping in afterwards as mop-up crew.
The chapel at Sedlec was rebuilt after the major blood-letting of the thirty-years war as a memento mori a€“ reminder of death. What can you say about the mounds of dead, the ruined lives, destroyed nations and misery multiplied by millions that isna€™t trite or self-evident? But then I pan over to other fields a€“ not the kind where the grass is composting my fellow man, but to fields of endeavor where the ferment is of ideas recombining into ever more refined ways of thinking. I once lived at the Golem house in Prague a€“ at Meislova ulice, number 8, in the old Jewish ghetto.
Horoscopes might seem a curious basis on which to select ministers and diplomats, but it is also more common than youa€™d think. Picture the scene before you: Ita€™s a late night in Prague, before the Marlboro man dominated every street corner, even before the neon of casinos and the vulgarity of Golden Arches assaulted the nightwalkersa€™ eyes at all hours a€“ back when darkness, oh yes, that beautiful comforting velvety, all-enveloping and blessed dark, broken only by the moon, stars and late night taxis, still ruled the streets after the sun went down.
The Golem was a mythic being of Jewish folklore, created from clay and quickened by the Shem, a magical stone engraved with an ancient Hebraic inscription, inserted into Golema€™s forehead. The maternal tongues of these small nations have miraculously survived all the invasions, floods, plagues and foreign occupiers to this day a€“ a gift preserved and delivered to them across the generations. Minority languages, on the other hand, carry an emotional load that can scarcely be exaggerated.
Ishi and his sister were the last of the Yahi tribe to survive the genocidal colonization of California.
Those whose language and culture are not threatened can never know the burden under which the carriers of small minority languages labor a€“ nor how those in exile bring up their children to preserve that which is beyond their capacities to save.
Jan was all about preserving traditions and the kind of ancestral knowledge that today is mostly enshrined in books. Today, the stories of our tribes are less and less passed on as oral tradition and most often read to us from the childrena€™s books wea€™ve learned to treasure a€“ illustrated by fine artists and produced with care for the highly discriminating purchasers of childrena€™s books a€“ for grandparents. A?epelA?k employed binders and typesetters to present complete suites of his work and in this too, he introduced me to a new world. Later in Prague I missed my flight back, due to the World Trade Center bombing and was delayed by a week. The difficult thing to bear in acknowledging my teachers, models, heroes, suppliers and inspirations, is that these masters of the crafts and industries surrounding and supporting the book arts are mostly deceased. The fruit we seek is not fast food, but laden with full-bodied flavors, attained by slow natural processes. All of us come from grandfathers who once were wheelwrights, cobblers or instrument makers; men with a profound love of wood and leather, who knew the working qualities of every kind of obscure tree growing in their countryside a€“ men who knew when to reach for elm or hickory a€“ as well as for goat, dog or even fish-skins. Jan spoke fondly of his grandmother, who baked bread every week of the year to feed an entire estate a€“ farm hands, livery people, gentry, trainers and hod-carriers alike. Working consciously is the ultimate goal a€“ and that is the legacy youa€™ll find evidently contained within and upon the boards of every book bound by Jan Bohuslav Sobota. The etchings you see here first came to life as illustrations for the wedding anniversary announcements of MA­la and Jaroslav KynA?l.


Jan Bohuslav Sobota died on May 2nd of 2012 and this is my remembrance of this fine man who was a friend and mentor to me.A  He was an exceptional bookbinder, teacher and promoter of the book arts, but also an exile who successfully returned home after years abroad. Our story for this Buck family begins with the marriage of Davida€™s parents, Thomas Buck and Elizabeth Scott, on 4 May 1738 in Glastonbury, Connecticut [see Glastonbury Vital Records by Barbour, available on the Internet.] The record of this marriage does not provide any additional information about the ancestry of Thomas Buck, but it does tell us that Elizabeth was the daughter of Thomas Scott. We know that these were the parents of our David Buck as his daughter, Elizabeth Buck Garlick (who we will frequently refer to as a€?EBGa€?) left a record in 1841 (in Nauvoo, Illinois) and again in 1872 (in Salt Lake City in the Endowment House). Following their wedding in 1738, Thomas and Elizabeth Buck completely disappear from the local records. Fortunately their grand-daughter, Elizabeth Buck Garlick (EBG), lived long enough to be listed in the 1880 US Federal census for Springville, Utah. The birth-dates are unknown for several of these children, but since there was such a large gap between Thomas, Jr.
There was also a John Buck and a Joseph Buck who were closely associated with this family in Bedford County, but we have no document that establishes their relationship to the rest of this family.
With all of the above as foundation for our story we will now present the documented history for our David Buck, Sr. The very first item we can find for our Bucks in Bedford County is in the 1775 tax list where a Thomas Buck was listed as paying 7 pounds, 6, as a resident of Colerain Township in Bedford Co., PA. In the next yeara€™s tax recorda€”1776, we again find Thomas Buck, along with Jonathan Buck listed in Colerain Township of Bedford County.
We have no tax records for 1777 & 1778, but in 1779 there was no Thomas Buck in Colerain Township. In 1780 we still find David Buck and John Buck paying taxes in Colerain Twp., and Davida€™s brother, Thomas Buck, Jr. The 6th Company, 1st Battalion of the PA militia was formed from the men of Providence Township in 1781, with George Enslow as Captain.
We do not know any details about Davida€™s military service but we do know there were many British inspired Indian-attacks within the county where settlers were killed and their homes burned. By 1784 both David and Jonathan were located in Providence Township in Bedford Co., PA, and their brother Thomas was still in Hopewell, just a few miles north of Providence. In 1789 Jonathan Buck sold his land in Providence Township and moved to the western side of the County, and from there (in 1793) he moved to Tennessee.
Note that most of the purchases above naming Thomas Buck were surely for the Captain Thomas Buck of Hopewell Twp., the brother of our David, Sr.
David Buck, land deeded to him by Benjamin Ferguson and Zilah, his wife, for 45 pounds, that tract of land called Oxford Situate on the waters of Brush Creek also running by the land of Thomas Buck, Esq. Thomas Buck and wife Margaret, sold to George Myers, land in Providence Twp being rented by William Conners for $2,400., on Brush Creek joining John Allisona€™s survey and running by David Bucka€™s property. This is a very interesting entry as we know that the Captain, Thomas Buck (brother of our David Sr.) was the man who was married to Mrs. Before we continue with the Buck family, we need to take a sideways step to briefly discuss the Cashman family, as that brings in the wife of David Buck, Sr. This family lived for many years in Berks County, PA, and then in York Co., PA, before moving to Washington County, Maryland in 1777. We should mention here that by this time the old Germanic family name had seen a number of changes that show up in many of the documents. Martina€™s oldest daughter, Catherine grew up in Pennsylvania and moved with her parents to Maryland when she was about 25 years old.
David returned to his farm in Bedford County, PA with a new wife and four little step-children.
While we are talking about close family members showing up in the temple records, there is one more that we should discuss at this point. The 1800 federal census is also a bit bewildering (but then census records are not known for their accuracy). This entry make sense if there was only one Bumgardner boy still living in Davida€™s home and if he was between the ages of 10-16a€”which would be about right. In 1808 there was another tax list which shows David with 247 acres in Providence Twp, with 1 horse and 2 cows. His oldest son, Thomas, was already married and had been out of the house for about seven years before his father died. We dona€™t know how long Catherine Cashman Buck lived after the death of her husband but it appears she was still alive during the 1820 census as discussed above. The oldest child of our David Buck and Catherine Cashman (after her Bumgardner children) was Thomas Buck. Very nearby lived the family of Michael Blue, who had a daughter, Elizabeth Blue, born 30 March 1788, in Providence Twp, making her just about two years older than Thomas. Shortly after the birth of their youngest child the family moved to Van Buren, Pulaski Co., Indiana, where they were living in the 1860 census, and where Thomas died on 27 Feb. A number of local residents joined the Church at that same time which resulted in a backlash of hard feelings and persecution ensued, inducing many of them to sell their homes and move to Nauvoo, Illinois where the a€?Saintsa€? were gathering.
With the other Saints, the Garlicks were forced to evacuate Nauvoo in 1846 and make their way across the state of Iowa to Council Bluffs. We are not sure when Susannah was born, but her fathera€™s will makes it clear that she was younger than Elizabeth (who was born in 1795a€”according to her own record) and older than Mary, who was born in 1800 (as found in several census records).
50 years old (making him about 12-13 years younger than Susannah, and his wife, a€?Susana€? was five years younger than Solomona€”born about 1815.
Whether Susannah died young, or married and changed her last name, is unknown to us at this time.
With a large gap between the first two children there could, and probably were, other children unknown to us at this time.
In the 1870 census we do find David Jr.a€™s daughter, Catherine Buck living in Providence with her Aunt Mary Buck (both of her parents had died prior to that year). After the birth of this last child the family moved to Columbus, Franklin Co., Ohio where we find them in the 1880 censusa€”except for their son, George, who would have been 13 in that census but does not appear with the family at that time.
This Jonathan Buck remained close to his extended family and traveled back and forth between Pennsylvania and Ohio on various occasions.
Note that this particular record does not say that Sarah was the daughter of Mary, but we learn that later on. In the Ancestral File (LDS FHC) Mary has been sealed numerous times to a man by the name of Amos Jones. In the 1860 census, we find Saraha€™s mother, Mary Buck, living with her son-in-law and his two little girlsa€”Marya€™s grand-daughters.
Within the next decade (per the 1870 census) Jacob Foore had remarried and begun an additional family, so Mary moved into a home of her own and also took in her niece, Catherine Buck, with her little daughter, Amanda, who we have discussed above.
This concludes the presentation of the documented life of David Buck, Sr., his wife, Catherine Cashman, and their family. Aunt Mary Buck is well, Catharine too, neather one of them lives with me now since last spring.
Yours truly, write to me again and tell me all the news and I will give you all the news then. It is with pleasure that I drop you a few lines to inform you we are all well at the present time and hope and trust these few lines may find you the same. I must tell you where we live, we live near Gapsvill and I thought I would write a few lines to you all. Times is very dull here now all though there is plenty of everything but fruit, there is none at tale, only what is shipped here. I can't tell how Aunt or Catharine is gitting along for I have not had a letter from either one for five months or more, I can't tell why it is as I have written to both of them and got no answer.
One of my boys married a girl here and they have gone to keeping house here, so if my letter does not come to hand in time he can lift it and remail. I am boarding, I don't keep house anymore and I received your picture and I thought I had thanked you for it in my letter long ago, if not I am very much obliged to you for it.
I did not see Dasey Garlick when I was East, she was away from home the day I went to see her and I had so many places t go I did not get around again. I seen Telitha (Catharine) Garlick two but only to speak to her as met her on the road one day she is married to Wesley Clark, one of Elias Clark's boys. It appears that there is going to be plenty work to do this summer, lots of large buildings to go up this summer. Temple there was completed, an Endowment House was erected in which sacred ordinances could be performed. The a€?Joseph Garlica€? listed as a€?heira€? and proxy for the males above, was EBGa€™s son. Abigail Jones 2nd cousin {Daughter of Capt.
Thomas Buck nephew {EBGa€™s brother, Thomas, md. David Buck nephew {EBGa€™s brother, David, Jr. John Buck cousin {Son Thomas Buck & ELiz.


While of course aging is often accompanied by negative health side effects, these anti-aging messages do not tell the whole story of what it is like to grow “old.” Aging is by accompanied maturity, wisdom, new opportunities -- beautiful things that are certainly not “anti" anything. There they encounter resident trout and bass a€“ even sunfish, chubs and dace, all keyed into the increasingly plentiful and highly nutritious bounty of salmon eggs.
Situated 90A km south-west of Prague at the confluence of four rivers, PlzeA? is first recorded in writings from the tenth century. That vision was about innovation and creativity within the context of an historical tradition.
This is what youa€™ll see in a Sobota binding a€“ exceptional attention paid to context and relationships, using materials and technical means that do indeed function and last.
He knew his work was valuable and documented it fastidiously a€“ confident that it would be last. There was, however, nothing about his nationalism that demeaned anybody elsea€™s traditions or origins. That smallish incident within the parade of American fringe politics elicited an insanely violent level of suppression. Masaryk a€“ and the cute little girl with a bouquet of flowers, is my mother Eva, at the age of three. Schmidta€™s income from the federal mint far exceeded anybody elsea€™s in the extended family and supported a network of cars, cottages and rent-controlled flats. Schmidt, as he preferred to be called, was a man of conservative demeanor who preferred polite and reserved forms of speech and address. While visiting their unassuming engraver and extending my tourist visa 30 days at a time, I was quietly becoming qualified for life as a counterfeiter a€“ a vocation within which, one is set for life, however it may eventually turn out. Jan allowed several binders to have their way with it a€“ amo boxes for slipcases with shell casings for hinges and so forth. This next incarnation of our exhibit in PlzeA? was all just a bit more prosaic and provincial. Is it the binding we consider and exhibit a€“ or is the binding there to conserve a text, which is ultimately the point? There are also binders to whom everything else is merely the text block, who care little if it is an offset trade edition or a book made by hand.
The tales therein recorded reflected the accreted wisdom and wit of a people as they retold them across the highlands in modest log cottages after the harvest was in.
The way of working belongs to the Sobota vision I addressed earlier a€“ the honor and soul to be found in conscientiously made handcrafts. I dona€™t feel that accomplished or ready to assume their mantle and yet with every generation that is what must happen.
Gravels, with just the right flow of fresh water running up through stones of the right size are but a tiny portion of the riverbed.A  The salmon must struggle past cities and sewer pipes, farms and irrigation systems, dams and turbines, fishermen and waterfalls a€“ just to reach the streams of their birth. 1787 a€“ Thomas Buck applied for 400 acres including an improvement (house or barn) on the south side of Raystown Branch of the Juniata River on both sides of Brush Creek, adjoining Alisona€™s Survey, in Providence.
1789 a€“ Thomas Buck applied for 100 acres on the southeast side of Warrior Ridge, adjoining a survey of James Hunter on the north and by a survey of Barnard Dougherty esq. And since the times have got so hard in the West I am glad I did not go, but I will come and see you all yet if all goes right but I can't say when.
John Buck told me I could write a piece in his letter and I am very thankful to write with him as we have not your address. I would have answered before now but was still thinking of being closer to you before this time but am about fixing to move back again to the old home place in Pennsylvania.
I have had work all winter in a wholesale house where it is heated with gas, as warm as wood care. This widely beloved stamp was re-issued in 2000 and mother continues to receive philatelic fan mail to this day. He died the day I was composing a colophon for the Spawned Salmon with words of praise for his lifea€™s work. The reason is that the man that was to buy my farm, backed out and I had made sale on the 27th day of March and sold everything to come and then after that man backed out I was to sell to another man and his wife died just two days before the time was for us to start and that knocked me all wrong all that I had and the balance of the company before I could rent again.
My wife has been sick nearly ever since we have been in Ohio and is not sadis ficte [sic satisfied] to go any farther west and she now has the agure [ague] and two of my children has got it and I have concluded to take them where the Agure seldom comes any more, that is in Pennsylvania where they was born. The themometer was at one time 14 degrees below zero, that was perty cold, but they have had two feet of snow on the level back at our old home place this winter. The engraving was masterfully done by Schmidta€™s long-dead colleague, Bohumil Heinz (1894-1940). The state security apparatus was surely aware of my presence, but if they kept tabs on me, I never knew. Buck a visit now, so must bring these few lines to a close by asking you to please write soon as this reaches you. Everything is just so wonderful and everybody so creative, but suspending judgment long enough to actually look at some artwork and then giving it a chance isna€™t so bankrupt, is it? Human body parts are again flying and the Baron is at his best defeating Turks and evading friendly fire from buffoonish generals.
Farmers would occasionally find their possessions and take them as souvenirs, unaware that the last Indians still lived in their midst.
Damn the cost; ita€™s who we are and the last material vestiges of soulful encounters with our elders a€“ onea€™s whose stories are slipping inexorably away, thinned by each passing year and generation. Their kids were grown and they were by then slipping into that last, reflective phase of life a€“ done competing.
1843, David Garlick also passed away at the age of 63 and was buried in the old Pioneer Cemetery on the SE corner of that city.
Corn up here, the folks that has corn is just pulling the ears off leaving the foder so that stops the work from off the farms hands so there is no work to do. William is clerking in a grocery store and drives a delivery wagon for the store part of his time. Maybe you can mind old Peter Weaverling that used to live east of my father, it is one of his boys she married, sister to Daisy Garlick. These scraps turned out to be a deck of medieval playing cards - the second oldest such cards known. A book is so much more than the sum of its parts a€“ and yet each of us tends to have our own bailiwick in which we shine and to which we look first.
These plates have been inked and wiped by hand, employing methods that woulda€™ve been familiar to Rembrandt. They crashed with my wife Jana and me in Kalamazoo, while taking the a€?orientation coursea€?nearby. I can confidently report back to my English reader, that Jan would only grow in stature for you, if you could have fully understood the subtlety of his thoughts in his own maternal tongue. Garlick was then baptized for John and Jacob Bumgardner and the record calls him a a€?half nephewa€? of those two men. Perhaps right for those who shouldna€™t have sharp objects, for fear of hurting themselves.
That show was purchased whole by Special Collections at Western Michigan University and constitutes the largest collection of Sobota bindings and the most complete archive of my work.
Few people would have cast a second glance at that glued-up mess of moldering old papers before pitching it, nor would they have recognized what they had in hand or known how to restore or sell it.
These folks were a profound blessing to a family facing some truly rough sailing a€“ a Godsend.
Schmidt had worked was signed with warm dedications to him and thus worth real money to collectors. He wanted to see the printmaker in me come to full fruition and I wanted to be worthy of his attentions. The family has dwelled within sight of the seats of power, pushing copper plates through a press and outlived the Hapsburg Monarchy, First Republic, Nazis and Communists. The intact packages were still there on their shelves, all duly graded, labeled and priced, awaiting an owner who was never to return. Back home, their Czech neighbors would have envied them and accused them of theft or worse, but people here seemed to be pleased as punch to see them prosper a€“ genuinely happy for them. Those items too, kept trickling out the door, until there came a sad, sad day, when the golden eggs were all gone. They bashfully admitted their foolishness and went back to making beautiful books a€“ and their American friends were so relieved to see them regain their sanity. You take time to grieve and then pick yourself up by your bootstraps (by God a€“ get a grip) and get on with it (Rome wasna€™t built in a day you know). StrejA?ek was still working, but it was all coming to an inevitable end, as he grew shaky of hand and hard of seeing. Enriched by my days of being nurtured by Prague, Matkou MA›st (Mother of Cities), I moved on to meet my destiny with art.



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