Once upon a time in Canada, driving through forest at the start of Autumn, got used to "Look! Fall colours!" every time we passed a tree that had gone early from green to the red-gold colours of the Fall. Saw the work of the Group of Seven artists at the gallery in Ottawa. Today, had a "Look! Winter colours!" moment, standing up the slope from a perspective of four apple trees, no apples, no leaves, gnarled, old, covered in lichen, shiny wet with the cloudburst of a moment before, blue-grey, reflecting the back-lit cloudy sky, beautiful. Would a camera get that? Don't think so. But a Group of Seven artist might have been inspired to switch from gold to silver. Some moments, you understand why painting endures in the age of cameras.
The birds are hungry. They've emptied the feeders over the weekend; time for a refill. Been away in Bath - driving a vanload of furniture up on Saturday, empty van back Sunday. Curious town, Bath. Yes, the stone is lovely. Ramshackle corners, alleys and shops that reminded me of Rome. All the obvious chainstores on the main pedestrian ways, but a few more original, artisan, craft places in the narrow short cuts. Quantities of people and cars that went beyond any conception of overcrowding and all the way into the ridiculous; laugh-out-loud crowds. Seemed impossible to buy any item of clothing, or accessory, that wasn't - in a narrow sense - fashionable. As if we're all imitating something - but the original has no substance beyond its own advertisement.
All I wanted was something to put on my (cold) head, but I didn't want it with a logo prominently displayed. Failure. Remained cold. A shopping town full of people indifferently, happily, reluctantly projecting a narrow set of brand identities rather than just being their own identity. Is this just an observation drawn from a very specific situation - Saturday afternoon, dusk, shopping town, early December - or is there a question to be asked: you've got the style; where's the substance? The saying in advertising used to be: if you're selling a burger, "sell the sizzle". Perhaps if you spend to long being sold and thus buying the sizzle, you eventually lose contact with the substance. Did you enjoy your burger? It sounded great. What about the taste? Don't understand the question.
Enough. Hungry birds tapping at the putty holding my windows together. A sound with a meaning.
The birds are hungry. They've emptied the feeders over the weekend; time for a refill. Been away in Bath - driving a vanload of furniture up on Saturday, empty van back Sunday. Curious town, Bath. Yes, the stone is lovely. Ramshackle corners, alleys and shops that reminded me of Rome. All the obvious chainstores on the main pedestrian ways, but a few more original, artisan, craft places in the narrow short cuts. Quantities of people and cars that went beyond any conception of overcrowding and all the way into the ridiculous; laugh-out-loud crowds. Seemed impossible to buy any item of clothing, or accessory, that wasn't - in a narrow sense - fashionable. As if we're all imitating something - but the original has no substance beyond its own advertisement.
All I wanted was something to put on my (cold) head, but I didn't want it with a logo prominently displayed. Failure. Remained cold. A shopping town full of people indifferently, happily, reluctantly projecting a narrow set of brand identities rather than just being their own identity. Is this just an observation drawn from a very specific situation - Saturday afternoon, dusk, shopping town, early December - or is there a question to be asked: you've got the style; where's the substance? The saying in advertising used to be: if you're selling a burger, "sell the sizzle". Perhaps if you spend to long being sold and thus buying the sizzle, you eventually lose contact with the substance. Did you enjoy your burger? It sounded great. What about the taste? Don't understand the question.
Enough. Hungry birds tapping at the putty holding my windows together. A sound with a meaning.