This is a hood ornament I saw on a cement mixing truck in Lonsdale Street, before the C Virus arrived. I believe the manufacturer of these trucks imaginatively named him “Mack the Bulldog”. Apparently he functions as a handle to lower the hood, which may make him the most decorative handle in motoring, and certainly in trucking.
Regular readers will recall that I have a fondness for vehicle mascots, and Mack now joins a painting series of these comprising a total of two: see here
Morning glory is beautiful, but invasive and difficult to control. Sen no Rikyu, the tea master to warlord Toyotomi Hideyoshi, had a garden that was famed for its morning glories. Hideyoshi made it known that he sought an invitation to see this garden, and an invitation was duly issued.
On the appointed day when Hideyoshi entered the garden, there was not a flower left. Rikyu had torn them all out. Puzzled, Hideyoshi clanked through the garden to a small, rough hut in the corner where Rikyu had built a tea room. The door to the room was built low, so low that even Hideyoshi had to remove his swords and leave them at the entrance. Crawling into the room on his hands and knees, Hideyoshi looked up and saw in the alcove a single morning glory in a simple bamboo tube, with a drop of dew glistening on a petal.
Hideyoshi nodded his head and sighed: “I understand”.
No better feeling than sitting in a park, in the cool shade of the sheltering, still-damp trees, watching everyone else go to work. None of the day’s freshness has been used up. Cannot wait to do it again.
Rusty wharf building on the Damariscotta River in happier times.
A night view of the Woolworths at Heidelberg, as viewed from the pub carpark across the road. If you look closely you will see there is no toilet paper left on the shelves, but for reasons I cannot understand the Spam remains untouched.
I once held Marie Kondo’s book in my hands, but it did not spark joy so I sent it to the Op Shop. I never thought it would happen, but I am reaping the rewards of a lifetime of indiscriminate hoarding. This, for example, is a painting of the crank on an engineering model of a gas engine. No home could be complete without one.
Why? Because lockdown and ceramic dog.
“Ephraim was a middle son, not brilliant or stupid, not good or bad. He was nothing in particular. His brothers became diamond merchants, but Ephraim was not cut out for anything immediately obvious, and so at last he was apprenticed to an uncle to learn the trade of diamond cutting.
To cut a diamond perfectly is an act like a samurai’s sword thrust, or a master archer’s centred arrow. When an important diamond is shaped, a man may spend a week, or even weeks, studying it, accumulating powers of attention, memory and intuition, till he has reached that moment when he finally knows that a tap, no more, at just that point of tension in the stone will split it exactly so.”