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29 June 2022: Sun, Saltwater, Summer Drift
In recent weeks the town has returned to the hustle and bustle of summer holiday-making. It is great to see all this activity extended to Toppings bookshop opposite the gallery, its Georgian steps the venue for postings, memes, and tick-tockings. I love the sunny aspect of this Lara Scobie pot:
Summer in this part of the world makes me think of Edward Thomas’s poem Adlestrop, and how he forgot to mention ‘Wiltshire’ at the end.
Yes. I remember Adlestrop— The name, because one afternoon Of heat the express-train drew up there Unwontedly. It was late June.
The steam hissed. Someone cleared his throat. No one left and no one came On the bare platform. What I saw Was Adlestrop—only the name
And willows, willow-herb, and grass, And meadowsweet, and haycocks dry, No whit less still and lonely fair Than the high cloudlets in the sky.
And for that minute a blackbird sang Close by, and round him, mistier, Farther and farther, all the birds Of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire.
This hot weather has one’s thoughts turning to the beach, and preferably a Cornish one… This is a lesser known spot:
Mizuyo Yamashita is a potter who specialises, amongst other things, in the Japanese art of Kintsugi… we have just received four of her new black flagon forms:
Anyone who loves someone else already has a broken heart. It’s the law: If you want that light to flood your body, you must expose the scars through which it pours, for they are the source of your beauty and your strength. Think of the Japanese who fill the cracks in a ceramic bowl with pure gold, not only flaunting those so-called flaws, but also making each one a priceless vein through which light now moves.
– James Crews, Kintsugi
And finally (for Christine),
Everyone who terrifies you is 65 per cent water. And everyone you love is made of stardust, and I know sometimes you cannot breathe deeply, and the night sky is no home, and that you are down to your last 2 per cent, but nothing is infinite, not even loss. You are made of the sea and the stars, and one day, you are going to find yourself again.
– Finn Butler, Saltwater
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