No matter how short or long your journey through time is; you can be sure that there's light at the end of it. Keep that in mind, dear fellow traveler, and aim towards the light, always!
W.jpg)
©
2023 José Pereira Torrejón. All rights reserved. No part of the content of
this blog may be distributed, published or reproduced without prior
authorization from the author.
Hi everybody, how are you doing?
Here's something different and interesting: a little chopper made from an old spark plug, some screws, and bits and pieces of scrap metal. Not my own design, but I couldn't resist buying it, when I came across it in a shop with products made in the so-called "third world."
You see this peculiar dragonfly sitting here on top of one of my old and rusty steam engines. It couldn't be any more "rust and steel" than this!
Thanks for visiting, and see you next time!
© 2023 José Pereira Torrejón. All rights reserved. No part of the content of this blog may be distributed, published or reproduced without prior authorization from the author.
© 2023
José Pereira Torrejón. All rights reserved. No part of the content of
this blog may be distributed, published or reproduced without prior
authorization from the author. Lost Reflection lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group.
I had this huge, heavy, old scale gathering dust at home for a while. It looked very cool, pure weathered wood and rusted metal! It was love at first sight when I laid my eyes upon it, and hence bought it with the idea to use it 'for something' at some point.
That moment came when I bought this wonderful, vintage 'Dutch' style warehouse. I saw the two and somehow knew that they belonged together. So I added wheels to the ancient scale to make it more easy to move around, then placed the warehouse on it, and the rest, as they say, is history.
© 2023
José Pereira Torrejón. All rights reserved. No part of the content of
this blog may be distributed, published or reproduced without prior
authorization from the author.
Enjoy your Saturday, everyone!!
©
2023 José Pereira Torrejón. All rights reserved. No part of the content of
this blog may be distributed, published or reproduced without prior
authorization from the author.
My lover died a century ago,
Her dear heart stricken by my sland’rous breath,
Wherefore the Gods forbade that I should know
The peace of death.
Men pass my grave, and say, “‘Twere well to sleep,
Like such an one, amid the uncaring dead!”
How should they know the vigil that I keep,
The tears I shed?
Upon the grave, I count with lifeless breath,
Each night, each year, the flowers that bloom and die,
Deeming the leaves, that fall to dreamless death,
More blest than I.
W.jpg)
‘Twas just last year—I heard two lovers pass
So near, I caught the tender words he said:
To-night the rain-drenched breezes sway the grass
Above his head.
That night full envious of his life was I,
That youth and love should stand at his behest;
To-night, I envy him, that he should lie
At utter rest.
John McCrae (1872 – 1918)
©
2023 José Pereira Torrejón. All rights reserved. No part of the content of
this blog may be distributed, published or reproduced without prior
authorization from the author.
Today I'm attending a dolls houses and miniatures fair here in The Netherlands. Such a fair is always a great opportunity to meet people I haven't seen for a while, see what they've been up to, and 'discover' new artists and their work.
Looking very much forward to it, I must say!
(SQ)W.jpg)
©
2023 José Pereira Torrejón. All rights reserved. No part of the content of
this blog may be distributed, published or reproduced without prior
authorization from the author.
Behind each star a small dream hides
But will not show its head,
Unless you're very, very good—
And fast asleep in bed.
Poem by Annette Wynne.
-02-01W.jpg)
©
2023 José Pereira Torrejón. All rights reserved. No part of the content of
this blog may be distributed, published or reproduced without prior
authorization from the author.
Anthropomorphic taxidermy is an art form that was quite popular in the Victorian era. As author Rebecca Burgan writes in an article titled Anthropomorphic taxidermy: How Dead Rodents Became the Darlings of the Victorian Age:
"The practice of taxidermy allowed people to honor their precious pets by stuffing and mounting them for eternity. Preserving dead animals also satisfied scientific curiosity, as well as the desire for protected beauty." (Rebecca Burgan, published in Atlas Obscura, December 5, 2014).
This particular art form, which is derived from 'regular' taxidermy, and which, I must admit, may appear morbid to many of us today, shows stuffed small animals engaging in human activities like reading, playing cards or musical instruments, having afternoon tea, etc.
The rat "reading a book" pictured above is from my own collection. It's a contemporary specimen which I bought some time ago. Apparently, the process of preparing such a delicate critter for display is not easy and quite time consuming, which makes it rather expensive. This particular example is mounted in a straight position underneath a glass dome. It is shown reading a book which sits on a book stand.
I'm pretty fond of my 'pet rat,' and that may be the main reason for sharing her with you here. For those interested in the subject I highly recommend Rebecca Burgan's article which you can access on the Atlas Obscura web site by clicking HERE.
©
2023 José Pereira Torrejón. All rights reserved. No part of the content of
this blog may be distributed, published or reproduced without prior
authorization from the author.
"She will love well," I said,
"If love be of that heart inhabiter,
The flowers of the dead;
The red anemone that with no sound
Moves in the wind, and from another wound
That sprang, the heavily-sweet blue hyacinth,
That blossoms underground,
And sallow poppies, will be dear to her.Extract from "Ode to Silence" by Edna St Vincent Millay (1892-1950) .jpg)
©
2023 José Pereira Torrejón. All rights reserved. No part of the content of
this blog may be distributed, published or reproduced without prior
authorization from the author.
A house within the womb of another house, which, in turn, is inside an apartment which is part of a much larger, fourteen story building.
I wonder if this little thing is aware of how 'cocooned' she really is...
CROPW.jpg)
©
2023 José Pereira Torrejón. All rights reserved. No part of the content of
this blog may be distributed, published or reproduced without prior
authorization from the author.
There are more guests at table than the hosts
Invited; the illuminated hall
Is thronged with quiet, inoffensive ghosts,
As silent as the pictures on the wall.
The stranger at my fireside cannot see
The forms I see, nor hear the sounds I hear;
He but perceives what is; while unto me
All that has been is visible and clear.
W.jpg)
We have no title-deeds to house or lands;
Owners and occupants of earlier dates
From graves forgotten stretch their dusty hands,
And hold in mortmain still their old estates.
Extract from "Haunted Houses" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)
©
2023 José Pereira Torrejón. All rights reserved. No part of the content of
this blog may be distributed, published or reproduced without prior
authorization from the author.
Have a peaceful Sunday, everyone!
©
2023 José Pereira Torrejón. All rights reserved. No part of the content of
this blog may be distributed, published or reproduced without prior
authorization from the author.
Don’t embrace defeat, even defeated,
Proceed like God, who never cries,
or like Lucifer, who never prays;
or be like the oak grove, whose grandeur
has need of water and won’t beg…
Extract from the poem "Piu Avanti," by Pedro Bonifacio Palacios (1854 – 1917)
W.jpg)
© 2023 José Pereira Torrejón. All rights reserved. No part of the content of this blog may be distributed, published or reproduced without prior authorization from the author.
Fair skin, freckles,
the day you married
you looked divine.
But that's so long ago;
gone are your fair skin
and your freckles;
All that remains
is a faded photograph.
©
2023 José Pereira Torrejón. All rights reserved. No part of the content of
this blog may be distributed, published or reproduced without prior
authorization from the author.
"Vino Triste" by Washington "Canario" Luna (1938-2009), English translation below.
You can listen to the song performed by Canario Luna HERE.
English translation:
That man who enters the bar
without a shadow to bark at him
The one that threads and passes by
without face or any signal
He orders a drink
with his back towards the street
And drinks alone, motionless, taking it slow
Taking it slow
He pays, thinks of another drink
without spending a single sentence
and then he leaves alone
towards the night, and nobody
That guy is wounded
and Death knows it.
©
2023 José Pereira Torrejón. All rights reserved. Copyright of song "Vino Triste" is with its rightful owner; published here for educational purposes only. No part of the content of
this blog may be distributed, published or reproduced without prior
authorization from the author(s).
©
2023 José Pereira Torrejón. All rights reserved. No part of the content of
this blog may be distributed, published or reproduced without prior
authorization from the author.
In the Hebrew Bible, Sheol (Sheʾōl) is a place of darkness, silence, and dust to which the spirit, or vital principle, descends at death. Source: Britannica
W.jpg)
©
2023 José Pereira Torrejón. All rights reserved. No part of the content of
this blog may be distributed, published or reproduced without prior
authorization from the author.
My fascination with vintage robots in sci-fi movies from the 50's and 60's is evident from the below image. Here we see a battle damaged little bot flanked by the remains of two of its less fortunate peers.
I made them a while ago using different materials, and as a matter of fact they have already featured in a previous blog, which you can see by clicking HERE.
Have a great week ahead!
©
2023 José Pereira Torrejón. All rights reserved. No part of the content of
this blog may be distributed, published or reproduced without prior
authorization from the author.
He is not dead, this friend – not dead,
But in the path we mortals tread
Got some few trifling steps ahead
And nearer to the end;
So that you too, once past the bend,
Shall meet again, as face to face, this friend
You fancy dead.
Extract from "Consolation" by Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894)
To you, because I care.
W.jpg)
©
2023 José Pereira Torrejón. All rights reserved. No part of the content of
this blog may be distributed, published or reproduced without prior
authorization from the author.