Randomnerd
Bimbleur
- Location
- North Yorkshire
Well, that’s what I thought as I passed the reflective surface of an old filling station window today. Look at that fine figure of a man, skimming along like a stone across a pond.....
And then I woke up on the bench by the village green, realised I’d fallen asleep mid-pie, and had another thirty bloody miles to grind to get home.
The fantasy and the reality is something we all have to reconcile, daily. Fantasy: I could just choose some tyres for my bike and buy them and put them on the bike and ride it. Reality: I think I better do a lot of research when I have some time, and then maybe ask my mates what they use, and then maybe post a daft question somewhere on the Internet, and then buy some. “Hmmm....? Wonder if I should get a mini pump...”
I’m coming to my point.
This morning, I almost caught myself answering Sandra’s dilemma about her job in the parts department with a long reply about a Peter Bruegel painting “Landscape with the fall of Icarus”. I’m glad I didn’t, because I would have sounded pompous and I think Sandra already knows the answer to her dilemma.
But the painting is very instructive, once you know your Ovid, or at least classical myths and legends, and one or two medieval proverbs.
“No plough stops for a dying man” - the proverb; essentially man’s inhumanity to man. We look the other way. I’m alright Jack. She’s got her job problems, but I’ve got my worries ( e.g., What’s the best way to tighten a chinstrap on a Giro helmet? No really, anyone?). Your search engine might take you to the painting for a look-see, and if you’ve time on your hands you could read the background bumpf at artinsociety.com.
And my point is.... [edit, my points are]
Do any of you make art inspired by cycling, or get creative inspiration from the practice?
Are any of our number poets? Isn’t it time you rode your rhymes out here?
Pedalling painters, stand up, unclip your oily cleats and clomp to the front of the class with your creations. ( Fair chance this could become a picture thread. Oh well. )
However your muse moves you, here’s the thread ready. Bring forth your odes of the road for us all to read. Don’t sit on your art all farty. Poop it up here, prop it up for all to see, silly!
And then I woke up on the bench by the village green, realised I’d fallen asleep mid-pie, and had another thirty bloody miles to grind to get home.
The fantasy and the reality is something we all have to reconcile, daily. Fantasy: I could just choose some tyres for my bike and buy them and put them on the bike and ride it. Reality: I think I better do a lot of research when I have some time, and then maybe ask my mates what they use, and then maybe post a daft question somewhere on the Internet, and then buy some. “Hmmm....? Wonder if I should get a mini pump...”
I’m coming to my point.
This morning, I almost caught myself answering Sandra’s dilemma about her job in the parts department with a long reply about a Peter Bruegel painting “Landscape with the fall of Icarus”. I’m glad I didn’t, because I would have sounded pompous and I think Sandra already knows the answer to her dilemma.
But the painting is very instructive, once you know your Ovid, or at least classical myths and legends, and one or two medieval proverbs.
“No plough stops for a dying man” - the proverb; essentially man’s inhumanity to man. We look the other way. I’m alright Jack. She’s got her job problems, but I’ve got my worries ( e.g., What’s the best way to tighten a chinstrap on a Giro helmet? No really, anyone?). Your search engine might take you to the painting for a look-see, and if you’ve time on your hands you could read the background bumpf at artinsociety.com.
And my point is.... [edit, my points are]
Do any of you make art inspired by cycling, or get creative inspiration from the practice?
Are any of our number poets? Isn’t it time you rode your rhymes out here?
Pedalling painters, stand up, unclip your oily cleats and clomp to the front of the class with your creations. ( Fair chance this could become a picture thread. Oh well. )
However your muse moves you, here’s the thread ready. Bring forth your odes of the road for us all to read. Don’t sit on your art all farty. Poop it up here, prop it up for all to see, silly!
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