Thursday, April 18, 2024

Today six years ago

Exactly 20:58.
Even six years later, my mouth is watering.

Wednesday, April 17, 2024

The Reverse of a Framed Painting

Trompe-l'œil:
El revers d'una pintura emmarcada

(Cornelis_Norbertus_Gijsbrechts - 1668/72)
RELATS CONJUNTS
 

For quite some time, at least 36 minutes, the group had discussed what a viewer might expect if Gijsbrecht's frame were reversed.

"Anyway, I think a picture dies after a few years like the man who painted it."

"Hear, hear, Duchamp!" Manzoni smiled. "Gijsbrecht by now is up here for about 350 years, but his "Bagsiden af et indrammet maleri" can still be admired at the National Gallery of Denmark. 

"Papperlapapp", intoned Schönberg, "If it is art it is not for all and if it is for all it is no art."

Braque laughed. "Arnold, you know very well that art is meant to disturb."

"Quite, Georges", Picasso nodded, "moreover, art is the lie that enables us to realise the truth."

"Excuse me, Pablo, but that's shit!" stated Conte Meroni Manzoni di Chiosca e Poggiol.

"Didn't you say the same to your son regarding his artwork?" asked Petrus.

"Yes, but only to inspire him." 

"That's right." Piero Manzoni smiled. "My father inspired me to fill 90 tin cans with 30 grams of my faeces originally to be valued according to their equivalent weight in gold, thus $37 each in 1961. In August 2016, at an art auction in Milan, one tin sold for €275,000."

"Oh god", sighed Pascal, "imagination – it is that deceitful part in man, that mistress of error and falsity."

 "Chauvi!" hissed Nin. "Why mistress and not man of error and falsity?"

 "You won't change him after 350 years, Anaïs." Nietzsche stroked his beloved grey horse. "Blaise will never be able to give birth to a dancing star. He has no chaos in his heart."

Thursday, April 11, 2024

Wednesday, April 10, 2024

Tuesday, April 09, 2024

Monday, April 08, 2024

Saturday, April 06, 2024

Cherry blossom

Our Cherry tree in full bloom.

Cherry blossoms

No more frosty nights, please.

Tuesday, March 26, 2024

Unforgotten tree

The tree is dead.
But it was alive back then.

 

Thursday, March 21, 2024

Monday, March 18, 2024

Beers & Books XXXLXV – The Road to Brightcity

A road literarily bright to read ...


Máirtín ò Cadhain (1906 – 18 October 1970)

Who would have thought? What started on 9 September 2020, "inspired" by an innocent beer being called  – how insane! – "Lancaster Bomber", has become a series of 365 posts.

By the way: The brewery are still offering six different beers in a box, twice a year. No longer 'Lancaster Bomber', though. Interesting. ;-)

Saturday, March 16, 2024

El joc de pòquer


Cassius Marcellus Coolidge
, 1894, Poker Game
RELATS CONJUNTS

Imagine folks: In 121 years, someone with too much money offers 658,000 dollars for a picture of our little poker round.
B: You don't say.
C: So there won't anyone be hungry in 2015?
A: Yes, but the person in question won't be interested in that.
D: 658,000 dollars for a picture of dogs playing poker?! I don't believe it!
A: That's as sure as Rostkam Gerstley & Co. will close up shop in 24 years.  
D: I bet a bottle of Old Saratoga Whisky against it.
A: Anyone else betting against it?
C: Me. Two bottles.
B: Me. Three bottles.
A: I want to see!

121 years later ...

Sunday, March 03, 2024

Saturday, March 02, 2024

In memoriam Claude

Today three years ago, my dear friend Claude died.
I am still sad, miss her, and at the same time I am grateful that once in 2008 she stumbled upon Omnium and thus allowed me to meet an extraordinary woman.

For many years Claude used to live with Innuit as a nurse.
Today I share with you one of the photos she took and one of her poems.

Thank you for everything, Claude. De tout coeur.


A MAN MUST FACE HIMSELF
 
I hung two sealskins on my wall....
 
Some people say
'Oh! the poor dear things!'
with pity in their hearts,
while chewing bloody steak
and cuddling in fur coats.
 
And I think of
Jonahsie
magnificently himself: a Man,
hunter by destiny
spearing the seals,
with no guilt in his soul,
no pity in his heart,
but beaming pride
that his day-work was done:
the best for his kin---
and that's all he could do...
 
And I think of
Kakee, his wife,
cleaning, stretching, smoothing, sewing the skins
with a skill
as old as the Woman called Eve,
and bringing me the gift
with beaming pride:
the best for a friend---
and that's all she could give...
 
And I wonder why
we worry about who eats whom
when Life is a cycle?
We all prey, and we grow
feeding on each other.
 
A seal
a breathing tomato
an egg that could be born
a drink of pure water
a flower for a vase
some grass to walk upon
the warmth of the sun, of a smile, of a body
a poem for a soul
and stars to fill a dream.
 
I hung two sealskins on my wall...
 
A Man must face himself
and accept it!
 
Claude Prévost Gamble
 (June 1970)

Friday, March 01, 2024

Friday is Skyday

Time for spring in the air.

 

Thursday, February 29, 2024

Wednesday, February 28, 2024

Harbinger

Harbingers of spring.
Unfortunately none of peace.

 

Saturday, February 24, 2024

Relats conjunts de febrer: Madonna del Magníficat

Sandro Botticelli, 1481, Madonna del Magnificat


I make it short. ;-)

"For the sake of the book. Get the godlike out of my sight!"

Friday, February 23, 2024

Beers & Books CCCLXI – Lyrische Hausapotheke

Es gibt nichts Gutes,
außer: Man tut es.


Erich Kästner
(23 February 1899 – 29 July 1974)

Thursday, February 08, 2024

Komm, großer schwarzer Vogel!




Ludwig Hirsch (28 Februar 1946 – 24 November 2011)

Komm großer schwarzer Vogel, komm jetzt!
Schau, das Fenster ist weit offen,
schau, i hab Dir Zucker aufs Fensterbrett g'strat.
Komm großer schwarzer Vogel, komm zu mir!
Spann' Deine weiten, sanften Flügel aus
und leg s' auf meine Fieberaugen!
Bitte, hol mi weg von da!
Und dann fliegen wir auf,
mitten in'n Himmel,
in a neuche Zeit, in a neuche Welt,
und i werd' singen, i werd' lachen,
ich werd' "es gibt's net" schrei'n,
weil i werd' auf einmal kapier'n,
worum sich alles dreht.


Komm großer schwarzer Vogel, hilf mir doch!
Preß' Deinen feuchten, kalten Schnabel
auf meine wunde, auf meine heiße Stirn!
Komm großer schwarzer Vogel,
jetzt wär's grad günstig!
Die anderen da im Zimmer schlafen fest
aber ganz leise san,
dann hört uns die Schwester net!

Bitte, hol mich weg von da!
Und dann fliegen wir auf,
mitten in'n Himmel,
in a neuche Zeit, in a neuche Welt,
und i werd' singen, i werd' lachen,
und i werd' "das gibt's net" schrei'n,
weil i werd' auf einmal kapier'n,
worum sich alles alles dreht.

Ja? Großer schwarzer Vogel? Endlich!
I hab' Dich gar nicht einikommen g'hört,
wie lautlos Du fliegst,
mein Gott, wie schön Du bist!
Auf geht's, großer schwarzer Vogel, auf geht's!
Bye bye, meine Lieben daham!
Du, mein Mäderl, Mama, Papa!
Bitte, vergeßt's mi net!
Auf geht's, mitten in'n Himmel,
net traurig sein, mm mm!
's ist kein Grund zum Traurigsein!
Weil i werd' singen, i werd' lachen,
i werd' "es gibt's net" schrei'n,
i werd' endlich kapier'n,
i werd' glücklich sein!

Ja, I werd' singen, und i werd' lachen,

und i werd' "Es gibt's net!" schrei'n,
i werd' endlich kapier'n,
i werd' endlich glücklich sein!

And here's a both quick and humble first attempt to translate from the Austrian. Suggestions for improvement are welcome.

Well, you will understand, anyway.


Come, big black bird, come now!
Look, the window is wide open,
look, I've spread sugar on the sill for you.
Come, big black bird, come to me!
Span your wide gentle wings,

and put them on my fevereyes!

Please, get me away from here!
And then we fly up
right into the middle of heaven,

into a new time, into a new world,
and I'll sing, I'll laugh,
I'll scream "Es gibt's net!"*
,
'cause all of a sudden I'll get
what all is about.


Come, big black bird, so help me, please!
Put your wet cold beak
on my sore, on my hot brow!
Come, big black bird,

now there's the opportunity!
The others in the room are sleeping deeply,
but let's be very quiet,
so that the nurse won't hear us.

Please, get me away from here!
And then we fly up
right into the middle of heaven,
into a new time, into a new world,
and I'll sing, I'll laugh,
and I'll scream "Es gibt's net"*,

'cause all of a sudden I'll get
what all is about.

Yes? Big black bird? At last!
I didn't hear you come in,

how soundless you fly –
my God, how beautiful you are! 

C'mon, big black bird, c'mon!
Bye bye, my dear one's at home.
You, my girl, ... Mama ... Papa.
Please, don't forget me!

C'mon, into the middle of heaven.
[Ah] Don't be sad ... mm mm [no no no];
There's no reason for sadness,

'cause I'll sing, I'll laugh,
I'll scream "Es gibt's net!",
I shall at last understand,
I'll be happy.

Yes, I'll sing, and I'll laugh,
and I'll scream "Es gibt`s net",

At last I'll understand,
At last I'll ... be happy.

Wednesday, February 07, 2024

Sunday, February 04, 2024

Beers & Books CCCLVI – Sansibar oder der letzte Grund

Sansibar oder der letzte Grund
(Zanzibar or the last reason)
*
in English published as "Flight to Afar"

Alfred Andersch (4 February 1914 – 21 February 1980)  

Thursday, February 01, 2024

Laughing Lhursday* – Pitch 'n' Putt

As tomorrow James Joyce will – not would! – celebrate his 142nd birthday, and as today is Laughing Lhursday, I think it is about time to once again post this glorious encounter of him and Samuel Beckett.



 James Joyce (2 February 1882 – 13 January 1941)

Samuel Beckett (13 April 1906 – 22 December 1989)


* [For first time visitors]:
Typo in the title?
Nah.
It's just that I would not let a tiny T spoil an avantgardistic alliteration.

Monday, January 29, 2024

Saturday, January 27, 2024

Dance me to the End of Love

 

 Leonard Cohen (21 September 1934 – 7 November 2016)

Friday, January 26, 2024

Take this Waltz



Leonard Cohen (21 September 1934 – 7 November 2016)
Federico García Lorca (5 Juni 1898 – 19 August 1936)

Thursday, January 25, 2024

Nectarious Night

And I'll dance with you in Vienna
I'll be wearing a river's disguise
The hyacinth wild on my shoulder,
My mouth on the dew of your thighs . . .

Es wird Nacht, Señorita

 

Udo Jürgens (30 September 1934 – 21 December 2014)

Wednesday, January 24, 2024

Saturday, January 20, 2024

Beers & Books CCCLIII – Vater und Sohn unterwegs

Vater und Sohn unterwegs
Feðgar á ferð / The Old Man and His Sons

Heðin Brú (August 17, 1901 – May 18, 1987)

Faroe Islands

Friday, January 19, 2024

Monday, January 15, 2024

Monday, January 08, 2024

Beers & Books CCCXLIX – The Moonstone

The Moonstone

A very happy 200th Birthday, Mr. Collins.

Wilkie Collins ((8 January 1824 – 23 September 1889)

Monday, January 01, 2024

Happy New Year!

May the best in 2023 be the worst in 2024.
After all, it's okay to wish, eh?