We are at a junction. Which path should we take to drive commerce and make us all as rich as Croesus, left or right?
Better make the decision soon as those lights don’t stay red forever…
St. David’s Day and tradition
Today, March 1st, is St. David’s Day, which commemorates the date of the death of Dewi Sant in 589 AD. An aristocrat by birth, David founded several monasteries, most famously that at Glyn Rhosyn, where St David’s Cathedral now stands.
Traditionally, this day is celebrated by the wearing of a daffodil flower, which is the national flower of Wales. It seems to be a fairly obvious choice of bloom really given that these beautiful, bright trumpets of yellow are one of the earliest flowers to herald in the Spring. However, given that it is likely that the plant is not, in fact, native to Britain but was introduced from Europe from the 15th century onwards, it does seem an unusual choice, especially given St David’s death some 900 years earlier.
It turns out, in fact, that the Welsh for the narcissus we know as the daffodil is Canninen Pedr which translates to St Peter’s Leek. The leek, of course, is the other symbol of Wales.
Strange how things work out.
Incidentally, the daffodil is a symbol of good fortune, according to Chinese legend, so may today’s image bring you good fortune.
Haiku: Eight Hours
Earlier this week we spent an interesting (!) eight hours in the local ER, to a large extent at the behest of my daughter’s pediatrician. Nothing overly serious in the end, but it did give me some thinking time, and the Monty Python Hospital sketch did creep into my mind…
~ Eight Hours ~
Needles and vitals
And the machine that goes ‘ping.’
Emergency Room.
~Richard
Ephemeral Art: Snow Warning
Today we had our first major snowfall of the season in Southern Pennsylvania. A few inches of wet, sticky snow. I took the opportunity to create a temporary piece of art on the lawn using the yellow paint left over from the yellow submarine oil tank.
This is not only a tribute to the late, great, Frank Zappa, but also a useful warning to all who pass by! Anyone watching be contort to get this sprayed without getting my feet in the way, and shaking the can in the cold air may also have considered this to be a one-off performance art too!
~Richard
What you feel, or why a painting is like a pizza
This is the first time I have composed a book review for this blog (I have reviewed hundreds of items on Amazon, but that’s another story), however, I felt compelled to mention this particular book simply because of the effect it has had on me, which has been little short of transformational.
I have been a photographer for several years and I maintain that the simple act of using a camera viewfinder and considering the composition of a shot has literally and figuratively opened my eyes on how I see the world. As someone with little formal art background and a career in a scientific world this subjective area of my life has always played “second-fiddle,” so to speak, to the practicalities of successfully raising a family in an ever-changing world.
Recently we visited MoMA in New York and I was amazed by much of the artwork and confused by much of the more abstract works too. I was fortunate to visit another gallery the following day (The Frick Collection) with an extremely knowledgeable friend and, importantly, I listened as he explained the nuances of many of the historical art pieces on display.
This outing spurred me on to visit my local library and the selection of the book, Why a painting is like a pizza, by Nancy Heller so that I may get to grips with contemporary art. I am so glad I did.
Heller’s introduction and simple comparison to real-world examples at the start of this relatively compact book suddenly made everything click into place. Working through the concise chapters and the color and monochrome plates I was drawn into the world of contemporary art through abstractionism and abstract art forms. I now have a much clearer understanding of these highly complex pieces of art and appreciate the why monochrome works and minimalist pieces can evoke responses in critics which appeared often insane to me, but a few short weeks ago!
To be honest, reading this single book, timed as it was with my gallery visits and friendly guidance, has been like an epiphany to me. Needless to say, I have now ordered a copy and I am sure I will keep coming back to it again and again. Heller’s work is by no means comprehensive, nor does it profess to be. It does however extend from painting to sculpture and installation art forms, and has certainly whet my appetite to explore more. I cannot wait to get back to MoMA and other art museums…
To paraphrase what I have learned from this small book:
“art is not what you see, but what you feel ”
Boxing Day
Every year since I have lived in the USA I have been asked the question, “what is Boxing Day?” by at least one person during the Holiday Season.
This year I thought I’d use this blog to explain.
In Britain, the day after Christmas, also known as St Stephen’s Day, is traditionally the time to extend the excesses of the previous day’s obligatory over consumption of rich food and alcohol, known collectively as “the festivities.”
Being the day after Christmas Day, and living in a society subject to the the law of supply and demand kicking in, it is also the time for the biggest sales of the year as shop keepers try to offload all those items they overstocked for Christmas gift sales that didn’t happen.
The ability to purchase products for 75% or 50% of the price you paid for them only 48 hours previously made hard working people angry and this would often result in a round of fisticuffs in the stores and brawling in the streets, leading to the creation of the term “Boxing Day” as people let of steam. This was often fueled by copious amounts of alcohol that was available at this time of year since 63% of the annual alcohol consumption in Britain occurs over the week between 5pm on Christmas Eve and New Year’s Day.
So, there you have it – the true meaning of Boxing Day!
In the spirit of fairness I must point out that one conflicting theory still persists that “Boxing Day” refers to parental treatment of ungrateful children who were unhappy with not receiving worthy gifts being subject to a “cuff round the head,” or a “clip round the ear,” or having their “ears boxed,” which are all jovial references to a little seasonal parental abuse, but I don’t ascribe to this analysis.
Happy Holiday!
~Richard
Merry Chrifsmas!
As a Pastafarian, I hereby wish to share Holiday greetings with you from the Flying Spaghetti Monster by wishing all a “Merry Chrifsmas.”
R’Amen
Spam
‘Tis the season of festivities and bombardment of our in boxes and web browsers with a large amount of pointless junk that is aimed at redirecting our thoughts at best, and harvesting our data at worst.
Be careful how you use your mouse out there.
For those of you who may want a little back story as to why we call this bombardment of unwanted electronic dross spam, here’s a short explanation.
Back in 1970, the Quintessentially British comedians of Monty Python’s Flying Circus constructed a sketch whereby a hapless customer, Mrs Bun, and the waitress of the Green Midget Cafe in Bromley have an argument over the fact that everything on the menu comes with spam. Add in some singing vikings (obviously) and the rest, as they say, is comedic history.
The first spam message has been attributed to Gary Thuerk, who sent an unsolicited email to 600 people over ARPANET back in 1978. He was told he was a naughty boy and not to do it again. (How very Monty Python)
When more people started using the world wide web (or emails to start with) to send unsolicited emails for products and services that were unwanted it seemed a natural extension for those who were in control of geekdom, and who have a particular liking for Monty Python, to use the term “spam”.
In 2009 it was estimated that dealing with spam cost around US$130 billion. For context Hormel, the manufacturers of true Spam, had a revenue of US$8.2 billion in 2012
~Richard
#lovespam #hatespam
Missing the Point
On Friday we went to see the original line up of Culture Club who are currently on their US tour and were visiting The Electric Factory in Philadelphia. The venue was new to us and we were very pleased with the fact that it was general admission standing only, just like my old student days back in London in the 1980s. With beer in hand we were fairly near the front and the gig was excellent. Boy George interacted really well with the audience and it really felt like an intimate “club gig”.
One thing that really pissed me off though was the huge overuse of cellphones during the gig. Not only did they cast a lot of light back to the audience but some idiots even used their flashed (totally pointless) not only for photos but also when video recording. Quite why anyone would go to a gig, especially one where you are so close to the stage, and then watch the whole show through their 5” phone screen is totally beyond my understanding. I am beginning to think that modern audiences are getting even more mindless. They may as well have stayed at home. Just to my left there were 5 or 6 of these clowns, as you can see. I am pretty sure that a couple of them filmed every song that was song and so therefore didn’t look directly at the stage even once during the performance.
I guess we’re slowly sinking into the abyss of not even wanting to experience reality when we can. How ironic it is that theses guys are missing the whole point of a “live” gig while concentrating on streaming it to Facebook.
How soon they grow up to fly the nest
Although it’s a few years away until my children will truly “fly the nest” today was the day when my youngest daughter literally flew away from me. She joined 31st Wing Civil Air Patrol earlier this year and today was her chance for her orientation flight. After an initial briefing by her instructor and a detailed walk around the Cessna 172P for pre-flight checks, the mist had finally lifted and she was ready to leave the ground. It was quite nerve wracking watching her taxi out and fly away, and I know the feeling too, as both I and my wife have flown single-engine planes when we were students a long time ago. In fact, as I told her on the way home, she’s the third generation of our family to do this as my father was in the Air Cadets in the UK as a teenager and also flew small planes.
When she landed she had a smile as wide as the Cheshire Cat’s from Alice in Wonderland. She had basic instruction and flew the plane for a while on her 45 minutes in the air. And at 14, she has now flown a plane in advance of sitting behind the wheel of a car.
I think she’s hooked!
searching4theshot 