Happy Saturday

 On this beautiful Saturday, let's "identify" as.... NUTS!!

 

 

© 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 Little Boat

A little boat rests perched on a wall cap inside the Centennial dolls house. I'm sure she's sharing her adventures with the miniature steam engine that chose the same spot to relax.

 

© 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.

Birds

Mommy, the garden is full of birds! They're all dancing, and singing a song..!

 

 © 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.

The Scale and the Warehouse

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.

The Green Vase

 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.

Penance

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.

 

‘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.

While you Sleep

Your picture ignited a poem in me.
A brusque stirring of the soul,
a thunder, and then, finally,
the words came crashing down like rain.
Oblivious of the conquest your image achieved,
you sleep.
Will you answer my heart's muffled scream?
Will you meet me, in a dream?

José Pereira Torrejón

 

© 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 (2)

Hi all, this is a follow up to my visit to the dolls houses and miniatures fair in Houten, The Netherlands, last Sunday.

It was very nice and inspiring, as such events usually are! I got to meet very dedicated and creative people, and to see their wonderful work up close!

One of the 'memento's' I bought that day was a beautiful small doll, very delicately dressed and measuring only 7 cm (2.75 inches) in height, as well as a even smaller doll from the same artist. The small one is only 3 cm (1.18 inches), and as you can see below, she has become a doll for the 'big' one! 

I cannot imagine any better way to start the new year! ⭐

 

© 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

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!

 

© 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

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.

 

 

© 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.

Elegy for a lost Friend

Now that you're gone

There's nothing 

that I ever wanted more

than to feel you breathe 

just like before.

As the day turns into night

and the pale stars shine on me

I cannot shed 

this sense of dread

nor the shadows in my dreams.

I can not sleep, 

I can not rest, 

nor drown in tears, 

my soul's distress.

Please stay with me, 

don't go just yet

Just one more day, 

my dearest friend!

 

 

The silence screams 

with emptiness

It's getting light 

and you're not there.

Come back to me, 

my sweet old friend

Before the night 

is here again.

And the day turns into night

and the pale stars shine again

And I still can't shed off me

this abhorrent sense of dread.

José Pereira Torrejón

© 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

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.

Dear

"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) 

© 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

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...

 

© 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.

Haunted Houses

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.

 

 

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.

Sunday

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.

Piu Avanti

 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)

 

 

© 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.

Gone

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

Ese hombre que entra al bar,
sin sombra que le ladre,
ese que pisa y pasa
sin rostro ni señales.
Pide una copa sólo,
de espaldas a la calle,
bebe su copa sólo,
inmóvil, demorándose.
Demorándose
Paga, piensa otro trago
sin gastar ni una frase
y luego se va sólo,
hacia la noche y nadie.
Ese tipo va herido,
y la muerte lo sabe.

"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).

Waiting for a Train

All around the water tank, waiting for a train
A thousand miles away from home, sleeping in the rain
I walked up to a brakeman just to give him a line of talk
He said "If you got money, boy, I'll see that you don't walk
I haven't got a nickel, not a penny can I show
"Get off, get off, you railroad bum" and slammed the boxcar door.

 

 

 

He put me off in Texas, a state I dearly love
The wide open spaces all around me, the moon and the stars up above
Nobody seems to want me, or lend me a helping hand
I'm on my way from Frisco, going back to Dixieland
My pocket book is empty and my heart is full of pain
I'm a thousand miles away from home just waiting for a train.

 

Song by Jimmie Rodgers (1897-1933), recorded in 1928, released in 1929 by Victor Company.

You can hear the song in a rare video of Jimmie on YouTube 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.