Somewhere

After

In my humble opinion, one of the daftest sayings in the English language is "Don't judge a book by its cover". Essentially, it is very similar to "All that glitters is not gold".  Many great books have excellent covers that fit perfectly with the words within. Talented book cover designers strive to make their artistry  speak truly for the writer.

I mean, it's not all about marketing and sales. There has to be a degree of integrity too. If you were panning for gold at some remote stream in northern California and you finally saw something glittering in your sieve, it probably would be gold! Same with books. Okay, there may be occasional instances where the book cover and what is within just don't go together but on the whole there's much correlation.

Now why did I start detouring with thoughts about book covers when this blogpost is meant to be about a painting? I shall call the painting, "Somewhere" or "Somewhere in The Netherlands". It is the first painting I ever bought. I paid a handful of guilders  for it at a Sunday morning flea market in Amsterdam in 1964 when I was eleven years old.

To my eyes, it seemed so un-English, so peaceful and timeless - just a place by the waterside, somewhere in The Netherlands. I re-discovered my watercolour picture when sorting through the detritus at the tideline following Simon's death. I decided to rescue it even though we were trying to be ruthless.

It was still in its original frame and old cardboard mount. I have no idea when the picture was painted but it was quite old in 1964. It probably arrived at the market after a house clearance. It's very likely that it was created between the world wars. There's a woman on the embankment in traditional dress and of course the boats are propelled by the wind - not engines.

Oh, now I remember the connection with the saying about book covers. I have had the picture professionally reframed with a new light grey card mount as you can see at the top.  And it seems to me that this process has given the picture a new life - made it more pleasing to look at. The new framing is far more sympathetic. Nonetheless, I would like to donate this new saying to the English language free of charge - "Never judge a picture by its frame". Previous sayings I have donated include, "Never judge a rabbit by its burrow" and "Never judge a banana by the angle of its bend".

"Somewhere in The Netherlands" will now hang in our upstairs art gallery (i.e. the bathroom).
Before


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Rise

 This is a summer of stillness. I’m having to be quiet. God is well aware of my desires. Trust me. I’m in the season that make you insane or send you running into the arms of the Father. I’m remembering that my way leads to pain, lessons and an inward I told you so. If I’m feeling redundant in my posts, it’s because it’s true. I need to relearn the same things day in and day out. It feels good to just breathe in, and inhale an air of gratitude. I’m having to be grateful in the small things. I overcomplicate simplicity. Overthinking is a day job, mine.   The truth is like a prickly thorn, pinching in those spots we try to hide. 



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My Laburnum

 

When I remember, I go over to the churchyard with a watering can to give “my” laburnum a good soak
I’m too lazy to walk up the lane and up to the Lych gate, so I climb up the field gate, and stand on the gate post then crawl over the top of the wall, pushing the watering can in front of me.
It’s not dignified but it’s quicker.
I always fill the rabbit drinker first, then water my tree which is doing well 
As I finished I heard a voice say something I didn’t catch and I turned to see two women walkers sitting on the bench outside the Church. 
They were eating a picnic.
“ I’m sorry ? “ I said 
It was the older woman that spoke and she asked if the tree was a memorial to a relative.
I told her that it wasn’t but had been a replacement for a giant laburnum which had been blown over a few years ago
“ And you water it regularly ? “ she asked
I feel responsible for it” I replied 
The woman, as it turned out was a Lecturer in History in Dundee University and was completing the pilgrim way across the a north Wales Coast. They were on the last leg of their journey to Holywell which is around 7 miles to the East.
She seemed well versed in everything

“ In folklore Dreaming of laburnum blooms is a prediction that you will overcome adversity through rigorous effort” the woman told me “ But never give the blooms as a gift” she added 
“ I know they are poisonous “ I replied 

No the message in the giving is that the recipient is forsaken “ she replied






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Thought

 Breathe in

Breathe out

Release yourself

From what

You weren’t meant

To bear



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