Two things I’ll quickly outline today:
1.) I was recently in Portugal again. It was a short trip for an Erasmus Mundus Liaison Group meeting, but we made the best of it and saw both Lisbon and Porto. To shift the exploratory focus away from my current host country (Russia), the above Porto clock face is meant to symbolize the time it will take me to get a more rounded post together on some of the finer aspects of the Iberian Peninsula. Deep.
2.) And on the topic of deepness and clock faces, I realised after my photo-feature on bricks that I like collecting pictures of the same thing (see previous posts on the Lada Niva, flowers, or statues). I like seeing the same thing in many situations. Maybe why I like Blue Dog (George Rodrigue, RIP). Point being, I’ll soon start a series called “Ode to…” in an attempt to get these odes out of me. It’s, of course, a tip of the hat to Mr Keats, whose poem, “Ode to a Grecian Urn”, was something I seemed to have read in my younger days, but only memorised this portion:
“…heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on…”
The rest of the poem is gorgeous, as well, and I highly recommend giving it a read for all its archaic language and deep symbolism.