Small ad

“Small ad” is mikron angelion in Greek, just like eu-angelion is “good news”, at least in Classical Greek, because in Modern Greek it is feminine: mikrê angelia. But this small messenger – angelos – who, slipping in through the window of Anna fell into a slumber on the shelf of gardens – paridais – and poems as in his natural milieu, is obviously masculine: mikroangelos.

It is him who inspired this mikrê angelia, sent to our blog by Anna who was encouraged by the ad about the mysterious Dutch holder and curious of the identity and purpose of this figure. Who is he? John Bull, or Johnny Walker at the end of a long day spent in the whiskey distillery? A rabbi, when finally all the guests have left? And what was its intended purpose in this extremely twisted posture?

If you could not reply for the question about the Dutch holder, here you are a second chance.

Sisters

My mother and my aunt.

Resignation. Six years of being the only child, a little girl as beautiful as could be dreamed – blonde, green-eyed, baby-faced – and now they bring you this… What were they thinking?


Usurpation. The newcomer has no doubts about where she belongs, and asserts her rights to occupy the place which was her share, without noticing any problem or conflict.

Ah, the younger sons and their carefreeness in this our modern society! Where are the times told by Duby when they had to roam the world to find a proper place for themselves?

Hermandad

Mi madre y mi tía.

Resignación. Seis años de ser la hija única y niña modelo —rubia, ojos verdes y cara de muñeca— para que le traigan esto... ¿En qué piensan los padres?


Usurpación. La recién llegada no duda de la validez de su pertenencia y se arroga todos los derechos de ocupar el lugar que le ha tocado, sin advertir problema ni conflicto alguno.

¡Ah, de los segundones y su desenfado en esta sociedad moderna! ¿Dónde quedaron los tiempos contados por Duby en que debían vagar por el mundo para reconstruir su ignominia?

A riddle

My sister Teri bought this little wonder in a Dutch curiosity shop as it would fit well to their country kitchen furnished with similar objects trouvés. It will even get along well with the fellow Dutch embroidered splash-guard from the last century. As a practical person, however, she would like to know its original use, hoping that she could use it for the same purpose.


The board of 25×40 centimeters has two little shelves fastened to it at a distance of about 15 cm. They have six notches each like a wooden spoon holder. But the notches are much smaller than that, only 3 millimeters large, and the hole at their end is 5 mm in diameter. Seen from above it looks like this:


The object has a signature as well, “J.E. (?) 1984” in the right lower corner, and a label with the inscription “Corrie en Krijn / Lageweg / Hellevoetsluis / 1984” on the back side. Somebody has already tried to scrape off the label (it is interesting that everybody starts it at the upper right corner) but then changed his/her mind.



Teri has called upon my expertise in things odd and obscure, and I, on my side, place my hopes in the experiences and helpfulness of the Benevolent Readers. I’m interested in every solution.

The secret life of nails

The nail series of Vlad Artazov popped up in the past weeks on a number of sites. But Wang Wei and Pei Di here in the valley of Río Wang do not regard reposting beneath their dignity if it is about something that they would be happy show to their friend. Even the Huangshang was sung of in more than twenty thousand poems in the course of the last two thousand years, and none of the poets considered the chance that his predecessors had already exhausted the topic.




Irony, macro and precision. This meticulously balanced working triangle still topples over to the mere wit sometimes. But just have a look at the boxer, uncertain in his victory, with his head tilt to one side as a question. At the rifled body of the beauty at the mirror and of the expectant mother. The possible grades of self-abasement in front of the Tibetan guru. The unruled recruits and the drill sergeant promoted to a screw. The stripes enhancing the authority of the severe father and the shadow of the wife interceding for the kid which secretly touches him. The allusion to the typical giant poster of the ’80s behind them. The different sharpness of the pole dancer and of her viewer: like the dark male face gazing at the illuminated beauty in Toulouse-Lautrec or Piero della Francesca. The point of a nail piercing in the soil completely or only half way: a world of difference.