Patience rewarded

16/5/2008 – 6:21 am

The winter here at Monteverde Mansions has been a little anxious in at least one regard. Just after we moved in late last autumn, knowing of my passion for them, dear friends gave me a fine, sturdy little frangipani. It even had leaves. All I had to do was see it through the winter and maybe, just maybe, I would be rewarded this summer with a flower or two. I found it a sheltered spot, watered it sparingly, and was horrified when some of the leaves got badly damaged by winter winds. One by one, off they fell. But the trunk remained firm to the touch, even as it became bare. In the end, pace Nick Drake, there were no leaves left.

Spring came. Seeds germinated, cuttings rooted, growth restarted elsewhere, but still the frangipani remained resolutely moribund. But not rotten.

Plumeria.jpg

Two days ago, The Squeeze and I independently notice stirrings. Yesterday I photographed it and breathed a sigh of relief. the worst of the wait is over.

By Jeremy | Posted in General | Comments (0)

Competition!

15/5/2008 – 8:34 am

quake.jpg

That is a genuine screen-grab from a genuine web site of a genuinely major player. Your task, should you accept it, is to identify the player.

Of course, Google renders this utterly nugatory, so I’ll just say that the subs at National Geographic should stand up and take a massive collective bow. Thanks Luigi.

By Jeremy | Posted in General | Comments (0)

Dogged

15/5/2008 – 7:26 am

At the (workshop of) della Robbia Nativity, I’m brought up short by ignorance. It’s a wonderful object, the restricted colour range and the white of the main figures make it so much easier to read. I’m struck by the everyday acuity of the artist, and how that makes it real. Like, on that hunter’s leg, a hole in his stocking.

San_Rocco.jpg

“How amazing to show the hole like that,” I say to The Squeeze.

“But that’s San Rocco,” she says, not missing a beat. “See his dog. He always has a wound on his leg.”

Right.

But the dog has no bun.

By Jeremy | Posted in 50 x 100 x 50, General, Judgements | Comments (0)

A boundary-appropriate workshop and social event …

12/5/2008 – 10:14 pm

Seldom have I been so keen to rush home and Google something. We were on a weekend jaunt away, and what with one thing and another found ourselves driving between Sansepolcro and Arezzo with a Los Angelena in the back seat. We were giving her a ride to the station, and exposing her to a bit of the old art, and frankly the least said about that, the better. Anyway, at a certain point she leans forward, strokes The Squeeze on the upper arms and starts in on about Cuddle Parties.

4-25.gif Excuse me? WTF?

She did a bit of explanation, but it didn’t seem to amount to much. Non-sexual intimacy, the human need for human touch, that kind of thing. We asked for details, but all we got was the notion that someone — a facilitator, no less — puts an ad on the internet and people come, usually lots of younger guys. Well, yeah.

Then the conversation veered off, much as I nearly had on the very drivable road when she first raised the subject, and we kind of dropped it.

Hence the need to rush back and seek details, which really are barely worth sharing. It is exactly what you might expect, perhaps the only novelty being that it originated in NYC rather than LA.

And then we were telling the story to a somewhat English friend. It seemed to me that she didn’t see the hilarity of it all, or wanted to attend, or had attended (?) or something. In any event, the reaction was frostier than I expected. Until …

“A cuddle party? Cuddle? I thought you said cuttle.”

“But that’s crazed. What would a cuttle party be?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I couldn’t work it out.”

And then she told us all about cuttlefish casting, of jewelry.

It was that kind of weekend.

By Jeremy | Posted in Glory | Comments (2)

Who is that guy?

11/5/2008 – 11:02 am
resurrection.jpg

Sat in front of Piero della Francesca’s Resurrection, in a beautiful, spare space, I’m struck by the absolute directness of the gaze. He is looking straight at you, with no sign of having suffered except a minor piercing.

“Oh, that? A flesh wound.”

Then there is the casual drape of his left hand over this raised knee. This guy is cool, in possession of all his faculties, and powerful. The sleeping soldiers, the receding lines of the trees in their muted colours, the wispy clouds. All heighten the presence of The Man himself.

No web image gets the colours quite right.

By Jeremy | Posted in 50 x 100 x 50, General, Glory | Comments (2)