Les not so Misérables

I have always been fascinated by mosaic and recently I visited a friend who has just finished her kitchen wall. It took her a year. I came away with broken bits of tile and couldn’t wait to get started. I first did a small shelf and was very excited about the whole process and the result. I kept my eye open for suitable “supports” (I’m using the French sense of the word here, which seems to fit perfectly… how would I say in one word in English ‘things that are suitable to be covered in mosaic’?) and found a large tray, a mug tree and a plate for sitting hot cooking pots on the table. It is great fun putting in the white joints, and it dramatically changes the appearance, so I thought I would show these in the previous stage, before it has been added (see below).

It is not easy to break the tiles, especially into small pieces, and I beavered away intensely for a long time, thoroughly enjoying myself. Then I tried to lift the tray and was shocked to find how heavy it was. I felt really deflated. Although it occurred to me that the tiles and cement would help to weigh down the mug tree and make it more stable, it did not occur to me that my breakfast/tea/all-purpose tray would need a weight-lifter to shift it once completed. The feeling was similar to the time I filled a bucket with water at the kitchen sink and only remembered as I was carrying it across the kitchen floor heading for the door that I had punched holes in this particular bucket to use it as a large plant pot. There is something humbling about water lapping round your ankles.

The mosaic is an excellent metaphor for the blog, too. No two pieces are the exact same size, shape and colour but they are all stuck together by the same hand or some such.

I just heard on the radio that the French Courts have decided in favour of the publisher who produced a sequel to Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables.

My initial reaction was that only Victor Hugo should have the right to write a sequel to his own work… and he can’t, so nobody else should. Then I read the article in the Figaro and was convinced by the argument that the dead baddy should remain forever dead and forever a baddy – the sequel brought him back to life and made him good…

But when you think about it, the sequel will not be signed “Victor Hugo”. It is just one person’s take on how the work could possibly evolve, so maybe it is no big deal.

Zapping, I caught a television interview with poseur Bernard Henri Levy. He said that psychoanalysis is of no interest to him because he bears no resemblance to the person he was as a child or teenager. He only became the real person he is when he started to write. “I have no childhood memories” he proffered, guilelessly.

I’m surprised I haven’t written about serendipity yet, it is one of my favourite words and favourite concepts!!!

Funny I had never before come across Obloquy; it is very pleasant-sounding and looking.

Trite has always intrigued me. It is not a word I have ever used. It seems to me to be very English...
And I wanted to mention Foley.

In Monty Python’s Holy Grail they click coconut shells together to make the sound of horses’ hooves and without the coconut shells they can’t travel. I found that hilarious. I didn’t realise it was actually pure Foley.

To create the sound of snow, they press corn starch, so I suppose there must be a lot of corn starch in custard powder. This took me to a search for Cremola custard, I wanted to find a picture of the moon on the tin, or that lovely yellow colour, but couldn’t find it.

Wellspring as a noun has 2 meanings:
Meaning #1: the source of water for a well
Synonym: wellhead
Meaning #2: an abundant source
Synonyms: well, fountainhead

One of the images that emerged in my writing and in psychoanalysis was that of being stuck down a deep well. I suppose I had always only considered the negative aspects of a well, from the point of view of someone trying to get out. This reminds me that wells can be good things! I have one in my garden and it might help me to have some kind of green grass in the summer here.

'Witches', 'bitches', or 'britches'.

“Contraltos are fairly rare in opera, since there is very little work that was written specifically for them. Most of the time, contralto roles are limited to maids, mothers and grandmothers, but they do occasionally get notable roles, often playing female villains such as witches or playing male figures that were originally intended to be performed by castrato singers. A common saying among contraltos is that they're only allowed to play 'witches', 'bitches', or 'britches'.”

Talking about who wears the trousers, I like the expression “the suits” to mean businessmen dressed in business suits.