Things I love: 1

It's rather hot (though still not humid, thank God), it's really windy, the house is a mess, the garden is a mess, my life is a mess, and today I'm not willing to do anything about any of it. Instead I want to just sit here in front of the fan and tell you about a few things I love. This might be the start of a series, I'm not sure yet. It'll depend on whether the idea and the motivation die before "Things I love: 2". At the moment I feel a bit squeamish about the idea, but we'll see. It just occurred to me the other day, wondering how I might try to get my bearings (in a "I was there > now I'm here > I want to go there" sense). I'm doing this online and not in private because:
(a) This is a blog, so why the hell not? ;)
(b) I can never be bothered reading anything I write for myself; it just turns into illegible crap and endless whingeing. I need the discipline of trying to communicate in sentences, and I can only find that discipline if I'm writing for somebody else.
(c) Publishing anything online makes it seem more important and worthy of reading, and yes, I know that's a rather pitiful and stupid attitude.

Anyway, here we go with some things I love, and not in any particular order.



The parquetry floor in the Louvre Museum, Paris (and "Louvre" is written on the photos, not the floor).

I was there in 1989, and haven't been back since. The place is really quite huge and I don't know anything about its collections or the works displayed, and when I was there the English-translation headset tour-guide thingummies weren't available (I can't remember why) so I just ended up wandering around like a lost sheep, getting tired, and, you know, lost. Finally I started noticing the floor and how amazing it was. I can't remember which gallery these photos were taken in, but I was standing there trying to sketch the pattern of the parquetry - and having a bit of trouble (the lines get quite complicated) - when a nice man with an English accent walked over and suggested I could use my camera to record it. Now, ... how do I convey this? ... I know it is almost inconceivable that a functioning human with a camera hanging around her neck wouldn't think of using said camera as a tool in this instance, but yes/no/whatever, the idea just hadn't occurred to me. "Ohhh!" I said. "Good idea!" So I took these photos. And Nice Man and I then had a little chat about the fact he was an engineer who was gratified by the fact that an ordinary citizen like myself had paused to appreciate the wonders created by other engineering types like himself. He seemed really nice too, did I mention that? Of course I couldn't think of anything to say, and that was the end of that. But looking at these photos, I have Nice Man to thank for the reminder: I love the wonders of engineering, I love wooden floors, and I love patterns.



Woodcut by M.C. Escher: "Day and Night" (1938) from a gallery at M.C. Escher: The Official Website.

In 1995 I was doing a one-year graduate diploma in teaching or education or primary teaching or whatever the hell it was called, in Newcastle NSW, and about the only things I loved that year were the kids in the classes I taught (but yes, I know kids aren't "things") and a big print by M.C Escher which I borrowed from the library to use in a lesson about tessellating patterns. I can't remember which print it was, but it was similar to the one above. It was huge, too, stuck onto cardboard, fraying around the edges. I had to carry it to school on the bus, with all my other gear, wedged into the peak-hour busload of unhappy commuters. (sigh) 'Twas not a happy year. (One of my old posts mentioned an imaginary friend I dreamed up back then: Stick-man. I loved him too. Add him to the list.)



And finally, still in the "I love patterns" theme, my patchwork quilt, though it's not actually quilted, it's just patchwork (pieces of material sewn together) and not even sewn by hand, it was all thrown together on a sewing machine a few years ago when I was babysitting my sister J's house. She has a lovely house, and I had a lovely time, reading books and making this quilt. And I love the quilt still. It's quite artless and probably (I guess) almost patternless as well. I just sewed long strips of material together, and then cut them into strips, and sewed the strips together. Various colours clash or reoccur in unlikely places (side by side, for example) and all the material came from things I had used before: old clothes and so on, so the whole thing is made up of stories or history, if you want to look at it that way. It reminds me of the old-fashioned quilts made by necessity rather than according to fashion, and the whole thing is really quite unlike me: not planned, a bit impulsive, loose and relaxed. It's starting to fall apart now, too, and I even love that about it.

So. The end. All of that only took me about 5000 hours to write. And the day is not warm any more, it's even windier than before, I'm getting a headache, and everything is still in a mess, but
I
hope
you
are
well,
reader.

Happy Sunday to you.