Skip to main content

When children run upon the Moor

"When children run upon the Moor, they seldom look much further than the ground at their feet, for there their treasures lie. When the old come hither, they gaze far off into the hills and upon the sky above them."
Eden Phillpotts.



Also:

"There are rare moments when the golden link of all matter seems visible and we forget our insignificance and feel a part appreciable of the splendid whole. The air we breathe is the same that burns in glory under the sun; the water and the lime that build us are also in the precipices and palaces of the summer clouds and the bones of the land beneath our feet. On such days we claim kinship with the elements and share their life and greatness and justification. They are festivals of all earth's thanksgiving and their lyric hymn throbs from the harp of a mighty minstrel, for it is the anthem of the rapture of life."



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Photography as Art

Having spent Friday night in prison in Oxford I wanted to recuperate a little yesterday and so took the time to visit the Ansel Adams exhibition at Oxford's modern art museum. Now, back when I were a nipper during my phirst phase of photographic interest, between the ages of about 18 and 25 (before the Exeter sojourn and the heavy-duty clubbing period thereafter), I remember I loved his work. However, since then, sadly, a more cynical Patrick held sway for a while (cynicism, for a long while, being my idea of sophistication) and I rather went off his pictures, or at least, the idea of his pictures. It seemed to me that everyone who had even the remotest interest in photography cited Adams as a key influence and criticism of him appeared off-limits. During this time I wasn't even sure that photography was an art, and that Adams couldn't be as good as I'd thought because he earned near universal praise for his work (I know, strange distorted thinking, but that's how …

Trump'ed on

You're probably sick of reading Niemöller's quote but here it is again - why not have another butcher's':

"First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Socialist.

Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out— 
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out— 
Because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me."

(from The Holocaust Encyclopedia).

I've read it so many times throughout my life that when it appeared in my Facebook feed I'd roll my eyes and scroll past wondering why some unimaginative ass had bothered to post it yet again - didn't we all already know it off by bloody heart?

And now here I am, another unimaginative ass, posting it on the web and ensuring that both my readers are pissed off and bored. Only it does have a new urgency now doesn't it? I mean with The Orange One in power it becomes resonant again…

Waltercio Caldas

Portrait taken at Cecilia Brunson Project, Bermondsey.

From Wikipedia:

Waltércio Caldas Júnior (born 6 November 1946), also known as Waltércio Caldas, is a Brazilian sculptor, designer, and graphic artist. Caldas is best known as part of Brazil's Neo-Concretism movement as well as for his eclectic choices in materials.