Falowiec

To the best of my knowledge the Falowiec - which roughly translates as The Wave, and you can see why - is the longest continuous concrete block in Poland. Perhaps in the world. When we were in Gdańsk a couple of years ago, Emma's old Polish teacher took us on a detour to take in its awesome size. Its size, let me tell you, is awesome. For reasons not entirely clear to me, I had something like an epiphany when I saw a photo of Julita Wójcik's knitted version in this week's Newsweek. (Some photos of Julita wearing a traffic-light apron here.) I'm very pleased that her handiwork is going to be part of an exhibition about concrete and I look forward to admiring the Falowiec in the flesh. Or should that be in the stitch?

someone to bear in mind when you're choosing your Trombonist Hero

Or perhaps what I mean is someone for me to bear in mind when I choose my Trombonist Hero. I've recently been claiming that Glenn Miller's principal instrument was the trumpet. How wrong I was. Never has it been more clear to me that I am no King of Jazz.

11cm of siskin

Wowsers! Check this out. It's Chizhik Pyzhik!

All credit to my dear sister.

Walter Scott

I've never been to Edinburgh. I'd really like to go. My friend Dave lives there in a space-age bachelor pad. And I've just found out that they have this huge memorial to Walter Scott there:
Hideous. And awesome. But is it really 'the biggest monument to a writer in the world', as John Pemble claims?

And what's the smallest?

Gato Perez

Southampton. 18 February 2006. Or thenabouts ...

Information Centre, Szydłowiec

tenfoots

A very pleasing definition from urbandictionary.

heatwave!

the Beats go on

Konwalia majowa

Little bunches of these available on every Warsaw streetcorner at the moment. They have a lovely stink! I wish I could tell you that I'd drawn the picture myself, but that would be a fib. We have these people to thank. If I were going to do some colouring-in, I'd turn my attention to the hollyhocks and the foxgloves. Oh, and the primroses.

Eric Ravilious

Gouldian finch

Image borrowed from this page. How did I wind up there? Well, Em and I have just been enjoying Warsaw's Noc muzeów. More than 90 museums and galleries are open into the small hours and have waived their entrance fees for one night only. You can ride between them on supercool antique buses! At the Ethnographical Museum we got down to a rousing Polish folk band with two girls singing great harmonies (the line-up included what i'll call a goatpiper, more of which in a future post perhaps). We'd hoped to hear an Australian band as well, but the hall where they were due to play was already fit to burst when we arrived and the doors were barred against us. (The last time we went to this museum we were very nearly the only people there; tonight was a real crush.) As a consolation we spent some time in the Australasia room, where most of the stuff is from Papua New Guinea. Many, many boomerangs. And some amazing photos of Aboriginal rock paintings - or rather some photos of amazing Aboriginal rock paintings. I was hoping that there would be an all-singing, all-dancing site about them somewhere on the interweb. Perhaps there is: I haven't found it yet, but I did find the finch. And what a glorious finch he is!

Stevie Smith

Here's a useful poem to learn off by heart so that you can plumb any gaps in dinnerparty conversation:

NOURISH ME ON AN EGG

Nourish me on an egg, Nanny,
And ply with bottled stout,
And I'll grow to be a man
Before the secret's out.

Nourish me on an egg, Nanny,
With bottled stout to drink,
And I'll grow to be a man
Before you can think.

Nourish me on an egg, Nanny,
Don't wring your hands and weep,
Bring me a glass of stout
And close my eyes in sleep.

(the book)

cartography

Nice map!

(Thanks to Cas for the link.)

whose dinner?

famous for fifteen people

"This essay, written by Momus in 1991, was published by the Swedish fanzine Grimsby Fishmarket in 1992 ..."

rock and roll band / Marty

*** Unhemmed recommends ***

Pop in your earphones & get down to numberdan's brand new 'Rock and Roll Band'!

And here's an idea (maybe it's just a fraction of an idea) for the artwork:

"Poor old Marty!"

"Good old Marty!"

John Berryman, 1968

INTERVIEWER: You admire Stephen Crane, we know, and many of his characters are named "Henry"; is this the origin of the name?

BERRYMAN: Oh, no—that's all just accident and junk. I'll tell you how the name Henry came into being. One time my second wife and I were walking down an avenue in Minneapolis and we decided on the worst names that you could think of for men and women. We decided on Mabel for women, and Henry for men. So from then on, in the most cozy and adorable way, she was Mabel and I was Henry; and that's how Henry came into being.

(read more of it here ...)

birds / going organic

An educational short from 1977.

I'm a little bit anxious that I've linked to John Stammers's very funny poem "I Don't 'Go Organic' Often, But When I Do" before; if I have, it's evidence, if such were needed, of incipient doolalliness. But not to worry, now I've put it here, with a bit of luck I'll be able to find it when I need it again.