Monday, 24 March 2008

Good morning


Link: sevenload.com

Thursday, 6 March 2008

Absurd in March



Have you guessed the riddle yet?’ the Hatter said, turning to Alice again.

‘No, I give it up,’ Alice replied: ‘what’s the answer?’

‘I haven’t the slightest idea,’ said the Hatter.

‘Nor I,’ said the March Hare.


( from Alice in Wonderland)

After a long absence, I'm back, feeling nonsensical too. It's March, nothing like a mad tea-party at 3am.

Tuesday, 4 December 2007

A Monet for tonight

Saturday, 1 December 2007

A painting for Sunday


The Nativity , by Piero della Francesca. c. 1470

Wednesday, 28 November 2007

A poem for a cold day


To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell,
To slowly trace the forest's shady scene,
Where things that own not man's dominion dwell,
And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been;
To climb the trackless mountain all unseen,
With the wild flock that never needs a fold;
Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean;
This is not solitude, 'tis but to hold
Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unrolled.

But midst the crowd, the hurry, the shock of men,
To hear, to see, to feel and to possess,
And roam alone, the world's tired denizen,
With none who bless us, none whom we can bless;
Minions of splendour shrinking from distress!
None that, with kindred consciousness endued,
If we were not, would seem to smile the less
Of all the flattered, followed, sought and sued;
This is to be alone; this, this is solitude!
(Byron)

Sunday, 25 November 2007

Art Sunday


Landscape near Chatou (1905) , by André Derain.

Thursday, 22 November 2007

Thursday afternoon


Nude Descending a Staircase

Toe upon toe, a snowing flesh,
A gold of lemon, root and rind,
She sifts in sunlight down the stairs
With nothing on. Nor on her mind.

We spy beneath the banister
A constant thresh of thigh on thigh.
Her lips imprint the swinging air
That parts to let her parts go by.

One-woman waterfall, she wears
Her slow descent like a long cape
And pausing, on the final stair
Collects her motions into shape.

(Painting by Marcel Duchamp. Poem by X.J.Kennedy)