My latest painting- actually the colours are brighter. I took this photo
in artificial light, so I may take one in daylight so you can see the blues
and purples better…
31 Saturday Mar 2018
My latest painting- actually the colours are brighter. I took this photo
in artificial light, so I may take one in daylight so you can see the blues
and purples better…
31 Saturday Mar 2018
Posted art, Arts, Bible, Community, History, Poetry, Psychology, Relationships, Religion, Writing
inTags
betrayer, crucifixion, discernment, Dorset Museum, forgiveness, glass engraving, Judas, Laurence Whistler, Moreton Church, salvation, thirteenth disciple, thirty pieces silver
More or less, a re-blog, but an apt one.
A contribution to the debate as to the ultimate salvation of the
betrayer.
Laurence Whistler created an engraved pane for
Moreton Church, Dorset, UK, in addition to other replacements
for glass destroyed in wartime.
It was rejected and was stored at Dorchester Museum for years,
until after Whistler’s death. Now it is in position, in spite of its
challenging depiction.
(Judas tree)
Whistler himself had written to The Independent in 1994, from Watlington
in Oxfordshire, after experiencing the rejection of his offer of this 13th pane.
It would only have been visible from the exterior of the church. It showed
Judas being pulled into Heaven by the rope around his neck. Some people
are as resistant as that to salvation, I suppose. Anyway, he commented
that three minutes of agonising strangulation was not to be compared to
the extended suffering of crucifixion.
THE FORGIVENESS WINDOW
This was to have been a thirteenth blind pane,
seen only from the outside of the church:
replacement for its bombshell-slivered glass.
Judas, the betrayer, hangs from a tree.
His grasp relaxes and thirty pieces
of silver metamorphose into a
c
a
t
a
r
a
c
t
of flowers.
Discernment can come from outside the Church.
Inside some, coin-lidded, opt for cataracts.
Most see through glass darkly; few face to face.
There are several images of the pane which you can access
through Google etc. Until I visit again and take my own photo,
I cannot reproduce them as they have copyright on them.
28 Wednesday Mar 2018
Posted art, Language, Literature, mythology, Philosophy, Poetry, Politics, Social Comment, Writing
inTags
anarchy, Andromeda, Animal Farm, Burne-Jones, Cassiopeia, casuistry, censorship, Diaz, Dr Atl, etymology, free expression, guerilla warfare, hacendados, Heaven, Hell, Liberty, liberty/licence, Pre-Raphaelites, Prometheus, revolution, volcanoes
Another poem inspired by Prometheus Unbound
by P B Shelley:
Andromeda by Burne-Jones: Wikipedia
A wheel will come full circle, you will find.
The outcome’s in the etymology
of ‘revolution.’ Think ‘Animal Farm.’
‘You seize the flower; the bloom is shed,’ Rab said.
Heaven and Hell are one’s inner landscapes.
Give a man an inch; he’ll take a mile.
Liberty/ licence – where to draw the line?
Free expression/ censorship : who can judge?
Anarchy is based on casuistry.
Prometheus played with fire and was burnt.
Imagination versus tyranny.
He who is king over himself is free.
Cassiopeia took the liberty
of a frank assessment of others’ looks.
Say nowt if you can’t say anything nice.
Why did the Pre-Raphaelites feel free
to create soft porn from mythology?
Liberty bodices off; shackles on.
‘When tigers are unleashed, who controls them?’
said Diaz, while Dr Atl opposed
slaves’ exploitation by hacendados,
exploding guerilla warfare into print,
like lava from his beloved volcanoes –
but he still became a neo-Nazi.
So, I’m suspicious of all these Titans,
larger than life, whose words stream in the wind.
They’re the self-acknowledged legislators,
crying, ‘Liberty, equality… (Blah!)
prior to being overthrown – not by a coup –
yet everywhere men are free, but in chains.
27 Tuesday Mar 2018
Posted Community, Literature, mythology, Philosophy, Poetry, Politics, Social Comment, Writing
inTags
Demeter, dichotomy, Fennel, Free Will, Golden Age, liberty/licence, Mecone, nobility, Pandora, Persephone, pomegranate, Prometheus Unbound, Shelley, tax havens, Titans
A poem to celebrate the bi-centenary of ‘Prometheus
Unbound’ by PB Shelley:
We always want slightly more than our share,
whether it’s food, or perceived liberty
and we, like Prometheus, play tricks,
but gods fore-know what is our little game.
Everyone wants to live in Mecone,
in a Golden Age of wealth, abundance,
with a personal cornucopia;
or to be on the same standing as gods –
expressing a modicum of Free Will;
able to question who has sovereignty.
The problem with challenging Order is,
it often involves (slight) deceit.
Liberty! Desirable; dangerous!
There is shame in personal ownership:
else, why do we hide sparks in fennel stalks,
or in off-shore tax havens, for that matter?
The flames of liberty need to be fed.
They will consume us, as they are consumed.
Demeter found there was a compromise.
Persephone, you lied. You were not forced
to eat pomegranate seed. You screamed rape.
Pandora, with a thief’s temperament,
you actually had the soul of a bitch.
Is it better to reign in Hell, or serve
in Heaven? Prometheus, your attempt
just raises the age-old dichotomy:
liberty / licence. Where is the balance?
Some can subsist on sacrificial smoke;
Titans and men require sustenance:
labour, nourishment and nobility.
26 Monday Mar 2018
Posted Poetry, Psychology, Relationships, Writing
in(Dali at 1936 Exhibition of Surrealist Art; Photo- Scottish
National Gallery Art)
I still re-visit that moment in dreams…
You walked back towards me, your ear inclined.
The car window wouldn’t wind down in time.
We accelerated and you were gone.
You’ll never know what I was going to say;
you try to read my lips, but always fail.
I mouthed key phrases incoherently,
like an escapologist in a tank,
or Dali inside his diver’s helmet,
suffering a slow asphyxiation.
The impatient driver should take some blame,
but he will not carry it to his grave.
In the morning, no sound comes from my throat
and I keep slapping the air with flat palms.
26 Monday Mar 2018
Posted Environment, Nature, Photography
inSeemed to be over the courtship ritual. Must have missed it!
24 Saturday Mar 2018
Tags
collage, found objects, poisoning, Salisbury, Skripal, spy, subliminal, trefoil radiation symbol
I have never noticed that there is a kind of ionising radiation
trefoil symbol on one of the buildings in the roofscape. Unintentional,
I’m sure. In line with ‘found objects’ and the subliminal, I only saw it after
I had pasted it on!
23 Friday Mar 2018
Posted by Candia | Filed under art, Environment, Nature, Travel
22 Thursday Mar 2018
I painted the background in Lipstick, or Bordello Red. It gave the
whole thing a decadent, seedy look and I managed to add Jeremy Corbyn,
Stalin and some Dalmations to the original. Don’t ask me why!
21 Wednesday Mar 2018
Posted Environment, Literature, Nature, Nostalgia, Personal, Photography, Relationships, Writing
inThis little fellow was very annoyed that I should invade ‘his’ territory
this afternoon. I had to remind him that it was my garden too.
Maybe he should take lessons in decorous behaviour from any descendants
of Ben Weatherstaff’s amiable companion. (See The Secret Garden by
Frances Hodgson Burnett.)