Above: Antošiv ležiak 11˚. Nothing special – a bit bitter, nice refreshing taste if rolled on the tongue. (Ležiak – lager – is not my thing, though.) Also drunk recently: Kaltenecker Saison (very nice) and Chopper IPA (pretty good).
Some sculptures, the first for adorning shelves and the second for holding small knick-knacks:
“Somehow the statue escaped” – the title of a post by Mac at Light on Dark Water, about a 14th century statue of the Virgin and Child made in the English Midlands, which avoided destruction in the Puritan iconoclasm:
The title of Mac’s post summoned up the mental image of a fugitive statue, sneaking around while malicious Puritan wrecking mobs prowl the area, seeking anything they can smash. So…
I respect the Puritans of old, it must be said – their hard-headed, practical mysticism, immense conviction and bravery; even if their attitude towards art and beauty was lacking. Chesterton, commenting on John Bunyan, said:
The word “savage” used here may, perhaps be misunderstood as indicating an animadversion against Puritanism; I use the word as a compliment. … Religion was indeed preached by the Cavaliers, both before and after the great war: before it, as a very noble scheme of national civilization; after it, as a very ingenious cog-wheel in the political constitution. Between the two rises Puritanism, a naked and roaring giant, announcing that religion is a wheel in no policy, a part of no civilization; a thing as old as fear, and as rapacious as love; that religion is what it really is, a terror, a splendor, a necessity, and a nuisance.
Amen to that. And on the subject of that saved from the wreck – an apropos song for the new year:
Another creation. I have named him “Bob”.
I meant for him to be a bird of prey; I partially succeeded, as he looks like a cross between a hawk and a penguin. Currently he sits on the windowsill of our office, standing guard with an earnest and dutiful expression as we work, drink tea, play solitaire, etc.
The further fruits of ceramics class: a small cup. I made the clay too thick. As a result it feels incredibly hefty, as if it’s a blunt weapon intended for violence which just happens to have the form of a cup. I have been pondering Aristotelian philosophy recently and this cup would seem to pose a problem: its weight, its general feel in the hand, indicates its final cause is to be a weapon, but I made it without any such intent. Whence arose the final cause in this case?
And here is a picture of a giant pencil in the town of Terchova in North Slovakia. It is approximately 8-10 metres tall.
I have made a teapot. It is not a teapot of great beauty and its capacity is small – less than two cups. Nevertheless, I am now able to drink tea from a teapot of my own creation.
The cup I drink from is not exactly of my own creation, but was painted by myself.
Currently taking sculpture classes. One of my early projects; turned out OK except the wonky shelves and accidentally painting the books brown (they’re supposed to be green, but some glazes change colour when fired, thus introducing the possibility of confusion about what colour you’re actually painting something). I may hang it from a bookshelf.
inadaptation 