Another journal

While slumming around Portland with awesome folks on Sunday after Stumptown we hit Powells, like you do.  Resting tired feet in the Pearl room, I found that we were in a section of utter awesomeness, being lots of art history.  I am a magpie, easily attracted to certain book spines and while poking through little plate books of Persian miniatures I found a book of Russian icons from the 12th to 15th centuries.  I have a fondness for icons, the combination of bold imagery with complex symbolism is fascinating.  However, I’m not that up on all the meanings, so some plates, like this one:

make me think of  Aarne-Thompson type 312 (Bluebeard).  Like, people look in this hole they weren’t supposed to and BAM, head off.  Really though, it’s St. John the Baptist and what we’re seeing here is sequential story telling.  The head in the hole is his.  Snap.

What decided me buying the book was that there is a plate of the best horse drawn ever in it.

Look at this horse. Is it not the best ever? Holy crap you have never seen a better horse.

Anyhow, turns out this wizard is Elijah (still a wizard, frankly), and Jesus is not stealing a baby, that’s his mom’s soul and she’s being escorted in style to heaven.  The plate listing was an uncut page so I didn’t even see it till way after I had it home.

Icons, guys.  The raddest.

Mirrored from Journal of a Something or Other.

Mirrored from Journal of a Something or Other.

Like taking pictures of dead bugs I’ve found.

A conversation with Chase last week:
Me: So, I found this dead squirrel on the walk home today, but I did not pick it up.
Him: I’m proud of you.
Me: Yeah, it was just the pelt, which is weird, and since there were no bones, I didn’t see the use. And it was like, matted dirty.
Him: I’m a little less proud of you.
Me: And I didn’t have anything to put it in, except the bag that had part of my lunch to eat on the train, so I had to leave it.
Him: Well, I was proud of you for a little.

I think one of his primary concerns is that the dead bird I picked up a year ago is sitting in our fridge still, because I haven’t decided what to do with it yet.

Mirrored from Journal of a Something or Other.

Mirrored from Journal of a Something or Other.

Mirrored from Journal of a Something or Other.

I live the high life.

Mirrored from Journal of a Something or Other.

Mirrored from Journal of a Something or Other.

More in the Flickr

Dead insects and children’s drawings. I think what I find on the ground defines me pretty well.

Mirrored from Journal of a Something or Other.

Mirrored from Journal of a Something or Other.

I need to wrangle together reviews from last month (somebody’s been on a mystery spree!!), but here’s an idea of where my brain’s been at.

Mirrored from Journal of a Something or Other.