A Necklace of Memorable Days
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"Happiness is a matter of one's most ordinary everyday mode of consciousness being busy and lively and unconcerned with self. To be damned is for one's ordinary everyday mode of consciousness to be unremitting agonising preoccupation with self."
Iris Murdoch, The Nice and The Good
What sort of diary should I like mine to be? Something loose-knit and yet not slovenly, so elastic that it will embrace anything, solemn, slight or beautiful, that comes into my mind. I should like it to resemble some deep old desk or capacious hold-all, in which one flings a mass of odds and ends without looking them through. I should like to come back, after a year or two, and find that the collection had sorted itself and refined itself and coalesced, as such deposits so mysteriously do, into a mould, transparent enough to reflect the light of our life, and yet steady, tranquil compounds with the aloofness of a work of art. The main requisite, I think, on reading my old volumes, is not to play the part of a censor, but to write as the mood comes or of anything whatever; since I was curious to find how I went for things put in haphazard, and found the significance to lie where I never saw it at the time.
" She strung the afternoon on the necklace of memorable days, which was not too long for her to be able to recall this one or that one; this view, that city; to finger it, to feel it, to savour, sighing, the quality that made it unique."
Virginia Woolf, Moments of Being
"Why did I write any of my books, after all? For the sake of the pleasure, for the sake of the difficulty. I have no social purpose, no moral message; I've no general ideas to exploit, I just like composing riddles with elegant solutions."
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I made something out of chicken wire too! I wanted to make one the size of
the horse, but this first one is more or less lifesized given the subject,
my son's dachshund Hammett. Although I love the immateriality of the
chicken wire alone, I've given him a thin thin skin of toilet paper applied
with acrylic medium and will have to do somerthing further...probably paint
The child holding the wire dog is my next door neighbour Jason, who is
always curious about what's going on in our unorthodox backyard.
This dog and I had a conversation at a stoplight this afternoon. He said he
was enjoying the first warm sunny day that we've had in a long time, and I
YourHermione, why should you know what sort of pots I make when I honestly
don't even know myself :) These are bowls that I'm altering by poking a
finger up and in while the wheel is still turning. I'm hoping that they'll
show off a glaze that I'm hoping will break on differently on concave and
convex surfaces. And while I'm hoping away, I'll hope that they're looking
neither too mechanical nor too wonky.
Potters aren't happy unless they end up with a pile of trimmings on their
wheels at the end of the day.
Here is lonely city horse for paintist, or at least a solitary one. The
horses who pull caleches around Old Montreal live in a stable that's beside
the building with my studio. (Sorry I don't know what a caleche is called in
English; it's some sort of carriage.)This horse is getting hosed down. That's water that you might be able to see
spraying in from the right.
My son recently sent me this linkhttp://www.cameratruck.net/The camera truck is the antithesis of the mobile phone camera, but I think
you will find it interesting nonetheless.
25th May 2006, 01:25
There, swamprose. I thought you might want to see how the whole row of
tulips looks. The sun has, quite unexpectedly, come out momentarily!