Thursday, June 30, 2005
Clippings
We have been having a tennis-fest. First Queens, then Wimbledon; perfect summer alibi for ignoring work. Magnificent games, the serve has been less dominant and slower courts have brought long, tension-building rallies. How lovely to sit with feet up on the sofa, windows open, slice of pizza and a drop of Pays d'Oc to hand and watch a couple of hunks sweat it out with skill. I'm backing Roddick while G fancies Federer, well not actually fancies obviously; I could win 50p.The insects are dreadful, I found a small hornet in my bedroom curtains, we have bumps all over from mosquitoes and gnats. Worst are the full-on attacks from these vicious stinkers. We are going through tubes of Anthisan like there's no tomorrow. I must buy some new citronella candles, without them it's impossible to sit outside for long in the evenings.In the garden centre I eavesdropped on a couple of locals choosing weedkiller:"Thass a reel prablerm round mine, that bloody ole ground-elder. That get evrywhere, you juss ha' t'stand still a second and thass up yer trouser-leg."
"I got that too. I been usin' some pison I had by me. Thass got parakeet in it, but thass wholly good stuff."
"Come over and play cards this evening," I said to Jane whose short-term memory at 84 is now appalling and who is very deaf. I said to G, "We'll play that new game Cheat that they taught us on holiday." "Don't be daft," he said, "she'll never get the hang of it, we'll be all night trying to explain."Later, round the kitchen table, bowls of nuts and shandies served, we dealt 'em out and started the subtle business of fraudulent claims about our cards. "Three aces," said Jane, smacking down a hidden load of old rubbish. Turned out she was a whizz at dishonesty, could cheat with a face like an innocent babe. She pulverized us.
Let no-one forget that the loss of short-term memory is only a processing fault, it doesn't impair intellect, or compromise old skills long-learned.
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Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Conch
What do you see in this picture? A shell? Beautiful, isn't it? Makes one marvel at natural sculptural forms?
Whenever I visit the Sainsbury Centre at the UEA this is one of the first objects I go to see. I find it pleasantly enigmatic. It is Mesoamerican and dates from AD 300-900. It is an effigy made in terracotta with white slip. Everything about it leads you to believe that you see a real shell, and so you wonder, amid that huge collection of artefacts, why should a biological specimen be shown?
So many effigy figures of that period seem to be relatively unsophisticated, roughly sculpted representations of birds and animals, often on bowls and vessels. But this is large, perfectly observed, sensitively rendered. It smacks of significance. Whoever made it was very skilled. Why was it modelled so accurately to ape the natural form? Was it used as a musical instrument? Had it a religious meaning or purpose? Or was it then what it still is now, a object to please the senses and fool the eye?
One day I'll ask to see one of the curators and find out if they have any other background on its provenance.
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Friday, June 24, 2005
My path
Now in the season of long grasses,
Green fades slowly down
To hazy evening purple, sunshine blonde.
On hot, dry days the stalks stand tall,
Breeze moving through,
Rippling tones of silver blue.
The path is often wet with dew
Until the afternoon.
The well-basked snake slips back among the roots
As I come by. And I,
Tracing the print of deer's feet,
And tracks of snuffling things,
Find feathers fallen from a grey bird's wings.
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Thursday, June 23, 2005
Do you see what I see?
I am having hallucinations. My printer, on a long run of text, shouts "Achtung, achtung," at me.
"Be quiet up there," I yell at the willow tits and their endless piping while I'm trying to read under their tree. "Psss off Mississ, psss off Mississ," they reply.
The hinges on the shed door unnerve me by mimicking a sheep, "Beeeear, Beeeear" and I swear that I hear milk bottles being hurled about in crates when it's only G having a light snore.
Outside my window a nun's face smiles from the shadows of a chestnut tree, I keep noticing that the word Gwen is written in lichen on the front paving and a rabbit's head has emerged from a foxed mirror. 'Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin' will appear on a wall near here any day now.
Therefore, when we went to visit a little country church, I was rather relieved when Esme agreed that there was indeed a peacock standing on its tail in the next field.
"Be quiet up there," I yell at the willow tits and their endless piping while I'm trying to read under their tree. "Psss off Mississ, psss off Mississ," they reply.
The hinges on the shed door unnerve me by mimicking a sheep, "Beeeear, Beeeear" and I swear that I hear milk bottles being hurled about in crates when it's only G having a light snore.
Outside my window a nun's face smiles from the shadows of a chestnut tree, I keep noticing that the word Gwen is written in lichen on the front paving and a rabbit's head has emerged from a foxed mirror. 'Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin' will appear on a wall near here any day now.
Therefore, when we went to visit a little country church, I was rather relieved when Esme agreed that there was indeed a peacock standing on its tail in the next field.
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Friday, June 17, 2005
Film meme
Total Number of Films Owned: about 70.
Last Film Bought: The Winter Guest [1998] with Alan Rickman; Emma Thompson; Phyllida Law.
Last Film Watched: Jules et Jim. I dug it out because of a recent mention of Moreau. Now I keep singing the song
On s'est connus, on s'est reconnus,
On s'est perdus de vue, on s'est r'perdus d'vue
On s'est retrouvés, on s'est réchauffés,
Puis on s'est séparés.
Five Favorite Films That I Watch Frequently or That Mean A Lot To Me:Pather Panchali Satyajit Ray - Deeply moving story of a family in rural Bengal. The old grandmother often comes to me in dreams.
East of Eden Elia Kazan - The only film I ever obsessed about. I think I saw it over 40 times.Whatever James Dean had, it affected me deeply - being a bit troubled back then I fell for this major interpreter of troubled youth. I could recite the script for you verbatim still and I use the music as a lullaby if I need one. The scene I most remember is Jimmy lying in his field of beans watching them grow.
Bladerunner Ridley Scott - I find something astonishing there each time; the sequence in Sebastian's dark apartment - "I make friends. They're toys. My friends are toys. I make them. It's a hobby." - is haunting.
Cool Hand Luke Stuart Rosenberg - Newman at his most beautiful. Just that.Ivan the Terrible 1 Sergei Eisenstein - a piece of genius - unforgettable cinematography, the strong facial imagery is remarkable. It conjures a frightening world where people live in the grip of fanatical power and religious scheming.
(I had to leave out:
In the Heat of the Night
Cinema Paradiso
The Go-Between
Rear Window
Death in Venice
The Wizard of Oz
Le Boucher
Jean de Florette/Manon des Sources
Rocky 1 (sorry)
All Busby Berkeley
Top Hat
Oklahoma
Oliver
Queen Christina
Bagdad Cafe)
Movie you would most like to see again if you could find it: it's actually a BBC children's TV drama The Children of Green Knowe 1982. I recall a woodland scene where wild deer came to the children's call, and a terrifying murderous tree.
Thanks to Dick Jones. I won't pass it on - everyone is so busy. Unless anyone fancies doing it? There's another meme, about childhood ,that I'll do tomorrow.
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Tuesday, June 14, 2005
Likenesses
I have been tidying up my digital photos, burning CD's to get them off the hard disk. I don't want to delete any and have really retained too many. Some day when I'm pushing up the daisies the disks will inevitably be chucked in the bin, who would have patience to wade through all the oddly-named icons? Prints are so accessible for instant appreciation, and I have thousands of those. Anyway, this new camera is wonderful and has allowed me to give as well as derive a lot of pleasure.
Saturday brought a fifteenth birthday barbecue for our young neighbour, a fun event with stilt-walking, rounders, rides on a quad bike and visits to see the horses. I took 40 shots which made up a really good record of the night for her to keep - she was over the moon with the print-outs. Two of the portrait shots of E. and her brother please me, the large prints of them make quite an impact - they have a slight touch of glamour:
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Saturday brought a fifteenth birthday barbecue for our young neighbour, a fun event with stilt-walking, rounders, rides on a quad bike and visits to see the horses. I took 40 shots which made up a really good record of the night for her to keep - she was over the moon with the print-outs. Two of the portrait shots of E. and her brother please me, the large prints of them make quite an impact - they have a slight touch of glamour:
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Monday, June 13, 2005
Placido sings to the moon
At dusk each night a blackbird perches thirty feet up on a fir tree and sings his heart out. This mere black dot on the topmost branch is such an artist that we have named him appropriately. Sometimes the song is so beautiful that it makes me cry.
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World View
| You scored as Cultural Creative. Cultural Creatives are probably the newest group to enter this realm. You are a modern thinker who tends to shy away from organized religion but still feels as if there is something greater than ourselves. You are very spiritual, even if you are not religious. Life has a meaning outside of the rational.
What is Your World View? (updated) created with QuizFarm.com |
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Saturday, June 11, 2005
On a lighter note
We had (for us) the added bonus of permanent access to a dog while we were on holiday. In the next door house a fat, lazy golden retriever and a mongrel lived unrestrained in a kennel by the gate. Anyone setting off for a walk would be instantly accompanied by Rocco, who was neither lazy nor fat. On the twenty minute walk to the beach he would dive off into the prickly undergrowth after mythical mice. As we puffed up to the clifftop to where the sea first appeared Rocco would wait for us, scanning the beach below.
Once down by the sea he would immediately disown us and make the rounds of the beach cafés; all visiting canines were inspected and he would do a little cursory table-begging for titbits. Well-known, he could always bum a lift back home in some tradesman's truck or a posh German resident's 4x4. Failing that, his dad always came down for a glass of wine at lunchtime. He had the system completely sussed. One of his mates at our favourite cafe gave me a great shot one morning - lying fast asleep out the back after a hard night.
Portugal photos available at Flickr
Once down by the sea he would immediately disown us and make the rounds of the beach cafés; all visiting canines were inspected and he would do a little cursory table-begging for titbits. Well-known, he could always bum a lift back home in some tradesman's truck or a posh German resident's 4x4. Failing that, his dad always came down for a glass of wine at lunchtime. He had the system completely sussed. One of his mates at our favourite cafe gave me a great shot one morning - lying fast asleep out the back after a hard night.
Portugal photos available at Flickr
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Thursday, June 09, 2005
Grrrr
I am unable to maintain anger for long and I don't sulk. Although my temper is on a short fuse its flare is short-lived. I lost it today with someone who would have profited from my understanding. Because she was angry and aggressive on the telephone and chastised me for something totally unjustified, I lost my cool and shouted back. While the adrenalin ran I felt OK. Wasn't my anger defensible, I had done her no harm, surely it was right to feel aggrieved? Finally I put the phone down on her.I can't get mentally comfortable now late into the night. Why didn't I stay calm and take it? It wouldn't have cost me much pride to hear criticism and remain kind. I valued the justice of my own position more than her distress. If you poke a primate with a stick through the bars of its cage it will tend to grasp it and hold it safely inert, I grasped the prod and poked back.
It made me think of many occasions when I should have just shut-up in the face of anger. There is never profit in jacking up a confrontation. But that great cry "It's not fair " has always been the catalyst that made me wade in fighting; it's time I learned that fairness plays no part in the irrationality of the aggressive reponse.
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Wednesday, June 08, 2005
There is a kind of beauty, the best kind, that fascinates not just by perfection of its features but by an instrinsic intelligence and character that amplify its effect. Garbo had it, so too Lilli Palmer, Francesca Annis, Kristin Scott Thomas and Anne Bancroft who died on Monday. I watched her central performance in The Graduate for the umpteenth time the other night and revelled still in her classy nonchalance, cool and intriguing. Sad, when the light goes out on such a face.
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Tuesday, June 07, 2005
A big fish from different perspectives
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Back
New modem installed at last. Hello again after a long gap.
We had a great trip to the Western Algarve which is extremely beautiful and virtually deserted at this time of year apart from a few backpackers. Temperatures hit the eighties but a merciful wind kept me and the surfers happy; G who likes steam heat found it irksome and lurked in hot corners. We took about a hundred photographs, I'll Flickr a few shortly. Our friends' new house above the lovely old village and Moorish castle of Aljezur looks West over a tidal estuary to hills beyond, the slopes striped by firebreaks cut into the vegetation.
From the house the crash of waves sounds below nearby cliffs where the tiny settlement of Monte Clerigo sits above a vast beach of white sand..
We walked, paddled, played cards, read, took trips into the mountains and along the coastline. I drove on the right for the first (and last if I have my way) time in a left hand drive car; it reminded me of nothing so much as that thing we did as kids where you have to pat your head and rub your tum at the same time. That aside, it was an entirely laid-back and happy break in a very compelling landscape.
We had a great trip to the Western Algarve which is extremely beautiful and virtually deserted at this time of year apart from a few backpackers. Temperatures hit the eighties but a merciful wind kept me and the surfers happy; G who likes steam heat found it irksome and lurked in hot corners. We took about a hundred photographs, I'll Flickr a few shortly. Our friends' new house above the lovely old village and Moorish castle of Aljezur looks West over a tidal estuary to hills beyond, the slopes striped by firebreaks cut into the vegetation.
From the house the crash of waves sounds below nearby cliffs where the tiny settlement of Monte Clerigo sits above a vast beach of white sand..
We walked, paddled, played cards, read, took trips into the mountains and along the coastline. I drove on the right for the first (and last if I have my way) time in a left hand drive car; it reminded me of nothing so much as that thing we did as kids where you have to pat your head and rub your tum at the same time. That aside, it was an entirely laid-back and happy break in a very compelling landscape.