tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7013530919398545410.post418598892742368539..comments2024-03-28T10:16:36.940-07:00Comments on MSGodfreyArt: Love, Honor, and Obey: Step by StepMargaret Godfreyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10822767523929352026noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7013530919398545410.post-82164488019232911682016-05-29T16:21:44.619-07:002016-05-29T16:21:44.619-07:00For me (a mid-century bride), this painting invoke...For me (a mid-century bride), this painting invokes "the problem that has no name" that Betty Friedan identified in The Feminine Mystique." Here's what she wrote:<br /><br />"THE PROBLEM LAY BURIED, unspoken, for many years in the minds of American women. It was a strange stirring, a sense of dissatisfaction, a yearning that women suffered in the middle of the twentieth century in the United States. Each suburban wife struggled with it alone. As she made the beds, shopped for groceries, matched slipcover material, ate peanut butter sandwiches with her children, chauffeured Cub Scouts and Brownies, lay beside her husband at night—she was afraid to ask even of herself the silent question—'Is this all?'" --Betty Friedan, 1963Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18060947224824366953noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7013530919398545410.post-54438833941579700882016-05-29T16:20:43.564-07:002016-05-29T16:20:43.564-07:00For me (a mid-century bride), this painting invoke...For me (a mid-century bride), this painting invokes "the problem that has no name" that Betty Friedan identified in The Feminine Mystique." Here's what she wrote:<br /><br />"THE PROBLEM LAY BURIED, unspoken, for many years in the minds of American women. It was a strange stirring, a sense of dissatisfaction, a yearning that women suffered in the middle of the twentieth century in the United States. Each suburban wife struggled with it alone. As she made the beds, shopped for groceries, matched slipcover material, ate peanut butter sandwiches with her children, chauffeured Cub Scouts and Brownies, lay beside her husband at night—she was afraid to ask even of herself the silent question—'Is this all?'" --Betty Friedan, 1963Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18060947224824366953noreply@blogger.com