Sometimes I look for you – new poem.

SOMETIMES I LOOK FOR YOU.

© David Milligan-Croft.

 

It’s been almost twenty years now.

 

Even still, I look for you,

Every time I visit our capital.

 

I look for you ascending great escalators,

As I descend into the labyrinth.

 

I scan the faces in crowded carriages

Looking for your headachey eyes.

 

I look for the scar

On hands that grip the rail.

 

Although you are not the purpose

Of my visit, I hope to catch a glimpse of you,

 

Among the other eight million inhabitants.

And, why on earth not?

 

It’s still better odds

Than winning the lottery.

 

And that’s what being with you

was like – winning the lottery.

The Diameter of the Bomb – Yehuda Amichai

In light of yesterday’s bombings in Boston, this poem seems all the more poignant. Thank you to Asha Mokashi for sharing it.

The Diameter of the Bomb

by Yehuda Amichai

 

The diameter of the bomb was thirty centimeters

And the diameter of its effective range about seven meters,

With four dead and eleven wounded.

And around these, in a larger circle

Of pain and time, two hospitals are scattered

And one graveyard. But the young woman

Who was buried in the city she came from,

At a distance of more than a hundred kilometers,

Enlarges the circle considerably,

And the solitary man mourning her death

At the distant shores of a country far across the sea

Includes the entire world in the circle.

And I won’t even mention the crying of orphans

That reaches up to the throne of God and

Beyond, making

A circle with no end and no God.

How very Vermeer…

Some of you more artistically knowledgeable people will probably suggest a finer comparison than Vermeer. Rembrandt or van Eyck, perhaps?

However, I do think the composition, colour, mood and lighting of these photographs by Desiree Dolron, are exquisite enough to be compared to the great master.

They are faultless works of art.

By Desiree Dolron

 

 

 

 

August Snow – new poem.

AUGUST SNOW.

© David Milligan-Croft

 

I’d been told the climate was similar to ours,

But that was a lie.

 

Here, there was guaranteed sunshine in December

And no snow in July.

 

They had great bubbling mud pools,

Which we didn’t have in Batley.

 

And jets of hot, steaming water

That would shoot up out of the ground.

 

They even had a desert,

(albeit a small one),

Near Lake Taupo.

 

I never knew how much I’d miss snow

Until we moved to New Zealand.

 

The only snow I ever saw

Was on Mount Wanganui.

 

But that was too high

For a boy of eight.

 

One winter though – about August -

I found a small pile of snow on our back porch.

 

I was so delirious with excitement

That I ran inside to tell mam.

 

She didn’t have the heart to tell me

It was scraped from the freezer.

The haunting – paintings by Mike McGinn

Mike McGinn is an Edinburgh-based artist whose work I love. Full of energy and emotion. There is something quite haunting and melancholy about the expressions he captures.

I first became aware of his work when he very kindly donated a piece to the Japan Art Auction I held in 2011 for victims of the tsunami.

Unfortunately, I was outbid for it. (It was fortunate for the auction, mind.)

Hope you enjoy his work as much as I do…

Donated to the Japan Art Auction

Like most artists, self-publicity isn’t high on Mike’s priority list. So, if you would like to buy one of his paintings, or commission a piece, drop me a line and I can put you in touch with him.

Cognitio, Sapientia, Humanitas.

That’s Knowledge, Wisdom, Humanity to the rest of us.

Which is the motto of The University of Manchester.

Why am I telling you this?

Well, I’ve been very remiss of late with regard to updating my blog. And the reason being is that I have recently taken up a position, at the aforementioned University, as their Head of Creative.

And, why should you give two hoots about this?

Well, you shouldn’t.

But I do have the privilege of working in a gloriously inspiring campus which I just had to share with the class because it is so beautiful.

I feel very fortunate to be treading the same cobblestones as 25 Nobel prizewinners.

Unfortunately, I don’t think they give Nobel prizes for graphic design.

Perfection

To achieve perfection takes trial and error.

If others are involved in your task, they may see your experimentation as indecision.

Ignore that gnawing urge to placate them for an easier life, and press on with your goal.

Only then, will you hope to attain something that you can be 85 – 90% satisfied with.