Saturday, 17 February 2018

The other verses

Bet you didn't know there were other verses

"The Star" by Jane Taylor 
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,How I wonder what you are.Up above the world so high,Like a diamond in the sky. 
When the blazing sun is gone,When he nothing shines upon,Then you show your little light,Twinkle, twinkle, all the night. 
Then the traveller in the dark,Thanks you for your tiny spark,He could not see which way to go,If you did not twinkle so. 
In the dark blue sky you keep,And often through my curtains peep,For you never shut your eye,Till the sun is in the sky. 
As your bright and tiny spark,Lights the traveller in the dark.Though I know not what you are,Twinkle, twinkle, little star. 
Twinkle, twinkle, little star.How I wonder what you are.Up above the world so high,Like a diamond in the sky. 
Twinkle, twinkle, little star.How I wonder what you are.How I wonder what you are.

Wednesday, 7 February 2018

Confused Fairy Tales: Cinderella and the Bean Stalk

[Mar 18 2nd Edition]

Cinderella lost her mother some years ago, and now she lives with her stepmother, and two step-sisters. 

Her step-sisters had the best clothes, the best food, and did not need to do any housework at all because Cinderella's father was wealthy and could afford servants. 

However, when her father's wealth was spent away, they lost their servants one by one and Cinderella took over the cleaning (when the housekeeper was let go), and then laundry (when the washerwoman was let go), and finally the cooking (when the cook was let go). 

All the while her step-sisters continued to live the life of pampered rich girls, leaving Cinderella to do the household chores.

Thursday, 29 June 2017

Hyper-realistic paintings - critique (copying a photograph)

[This is a reply to a question about the painting ability of masters of the past and the "hyper-realism" painters. I thought it was an elegant reply, and the critique extends to other areas of art. For example dialogue. Sometimes you read an author and what jumps out at you is the realistic dialogue. And you try to write like him (or her). And then you realise actual conversations are horribly confusing and not very structured at all. What you mean by "realistic dialogue" is not that the writer was able to write detailed dialogue, but that he was able to capture the essence and spirit of what made the dialogue authentic.]

The biggest misconception among non artists and amateurs is that more detail equals more realism in art. 

Detail is not congruent with realism
The great artists of the past knew that detail without purpose was often the antithesis of realism. The “artists of today” that you speak of rely on it as a cheap gimmick. Copying pores on a face is not art. Anyone can blend an eye with ten thousand brush strokes. It takes true genius to convey realism with absolute economy of brush work. Art is about making executive decisions about composition, line, and mass

Realism is so much more than detail.

Monday, 8 May 2017

The Rose

The Rose
by S.I. Kishor

John Blanchard stood up from the bench, straightened his Army uniform, and studied the crowd of people making their way through Grand Central Station. He looked for the girl whose heart he knew, but whose face he didn't, the girl with the rose.

His interest in her had begun thirteen months before in a Florida library. Taking a book off the shelf he found himself intrigued, not with the words of the book, but with the notes penciled in the margin. The soft handwriting reflected a thoughtful soul and insightful mind. In the front of the book, he discovered the previous owner's name, Miss Hollis Maynell. With time and effort he located her address. She lived in New York City. He wrote her a letter introducing himself and inviting her to correspond. The next day he was shipped overseas for service in World War II. During the next year and one month the two grew to know each other through the mail. Each letter was a seed falling on a fertile heart. A romance was budding.

Monday, 11 July 2016


This started out as an office joke.

"What shall we call our new meeting room?"

"Well, since we have discussions in the room to come to some decision, let's name the room, 'Decisive!'"

"Good name!"

So the meeting room was named. Some days later the assistant to the CEO answered an internal call, and told the caller, "I'm sorry, CEO is in a meeting right now, it may take a while. He's in 'Decisive'."

"The deputy CEO? She's in another meeting. She's in 'Competent'."

I think the meeting room in the Vatican, used by the Pope is called "Fallible".

So I was lying in bed when the phone rings.

"Hello? Oh nothing. I'm just in 'Deep Thought'."

"Okay. Bye."

"Deep Thought" is what I call my bed.

Customary wishes for wedding couples is for them to be "fruitful and multiply. But they probably don't want to call their bed "Fertile" or "Conceivable". The names may be auspicious sounding, but no.

Wednesday, 7 October 2015

An SG 50 Parable - Mortal Stakes

The (Eventually) Old Man, with a cameo by the Sea (with apologies to the classic)

The young man looked all around.

In the village, the people were hungry. They had nothing to eat.

The young man had just caught some fish for his family. Maybe he could give some to the others in his village.


He didn't have enough for everyone.

He watched as young men stripped leaves off tree branches, turning them into make-believe swords, and fencing each other in mock sword fights.

Others made kites and were flying them.

But all were hungry if not starving.

"Follow me, if you want to eat! Bring your sticks and your kite strings!" said the young man.

And the young men (and some women) of the village followed him.

He brought them to the sea about an hour's walk away, taught them to turn their make-believe "swords"into fishing rods, and the kite strings into fishing lines to fish in the sea. By evening everyone had caught something to feed their families.

Now the young men (and some women) knew how to fish, and their family would have something to eat.

Now every day, they fished to feed their families.