sunday at the wonderful wellcome

http://www.wellcomecollection.org/whats-on/exhibitions/dirt.aspx

which reminds me of ...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r2wTDX_jo8c

reader, we drank it ! she'd bought it from a favourite sandwich bar in venice and saved it for three months ... then opened it to welcome her ardizzone lithograph to it's new abode

compare and contrast

ice-cream van

my fingers are crossed for a certain small and frightened someone who'll be in surgery for most of the day for a spot of what sounds like "do or die"

seeing as how a baby is on the agenda this month .... titian and mahler

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I8y6Tit5y6M

via the wonderful, though possibly moribund, boccanegra website

http://xavisuescun.blogspot.com/

faiz ... a poet in the urdu language

read and smile  ...

http://caravanmagazine.in/Story.aspx?Storyid=924&StoryStyle=FullStory

listen and sigh ...

http://www.jinnahsequaid.com/8048/legendary-works-faiz-ahm

or, since some twat has broken the link ...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tzXNo3-YyUoed-faiz/


and give thanks to metafilter

http://www.metafilter.com/

in my mind's eye, some people never age

whilst elsewhere, an anonymous spaniard ages gracefully ... well its either arrested development or accelerated regression

artwork by roxanne

3BT ...

A dilapidated bus station.  It is cloudy and a cold breeze chills the little country town.  In a small yard surrounded by a low wall, a couple of girls, maybe twelve or thirteen years old, shiver on a bench outside a pub.  One has a plaster cast on her left arm.  Maybe their parents are drinking inside.  Suddenly they leap up and dance frantically around for a couple of minutes, shaking their arms and legs and heads to imagined music, almost as if they were trying to detach them, running about the yard and jumping on the furniture with an extraordinary lack of inhibition, as if they were burning up a lifetime of joy in moments.  An English rite of spring ?

An old stone bridge with low pointed arches spans a wide chalk stream bordered with willows, its fertile waters feeding long drifts of flowering water crowfoot on which both yellow and pied wagtails run to and fro.

A text arrives in the evening from a friend I feared had died.

i'd see through that disguise anywhere ! its the collinson kid ! run for your lives !

... fifty-seven years of friendship, on and off !

more tea, don diego ?

maintaining a discreet silence

3BT

A mare leads a foal towards the shadow of a dark oak tree at noon.

At dawn the sun is hidden by a mountain of huge grey clouds all soaked in pink, whilst in front of them there sails a squadron of smaller clouds shaded in pale blue.

The room is silent, except for the sound of bubbles in tonic water.

apropos de sumpfinque

clapham junction station's new "stepless" entrance via the original parcels office

after years and years, the people in the fancy dress shop at clapham junction have given their mannequin a new wig

ingerrlund expects ...

thinking aloud ... darling, let's redecorate the bedroom ...

dehydrated thinking

I woke up before sunrise and didn't make tea. Too noisy.

I was thinking about the proposed closure of the Sorting Office at Malmesbury, my home town, as reported in Thursday's Wiltshire Gazette. Local people are said to be disappointed.

It’s a shame about the jobs going, but at the last general election the clear majority of people in North Wiltshire voted for less taxes and more efficiency.  Clearly the subject of local jobs for local people wasn’t so important then. 

Of course, in real communities, real people need real jobs. 

 I vaguely remember that’s what socialism used to be about in the bad old days.