where art collides philosoperontap

February 23, 2014

Two carpets on a painted wood floor

Filed under: the art gallery — Trefor Davies @ 6:24 pm

Taken on a dull Sunday afternoon in February. The room had a north facing bay window  that let in the right amount of diffused light for the effective presentation of this composition.

The artist, Trefor Davies, makes good use of every day objects in his work. Here we have three very different textures. The splash of colour sandwiched in the middle of what some might argue are two bland exteriors surprisingly pushes the eye towards the fluffy shagpile that dominates the whole picture to the right and centre of the frame.

February 12, 2014

14

Filed under: thoughts — Trefor Davies @ 9:49 pm

Good number, 14. It’s an even number though why that should mean anything is anyone’s guess. Nobody’s business. It also means you are well and truly entrenched in your teens. 13 was the first of the teen birthdays. 14 is better. Another five numbers yet to come though. 15 – 19.

14 is one of the better birthdays. When I was 14 I was half way between being 13 and 15. Things haven’t changed even though we didn’t have the internet in those days.

One of the things about being 14 is that your age starts to race away from your shoe size. I don’t know anyone with a size 14 shoe. Good job. It’s also a good job that you eventually stop growing. Imagine if you carried on growing until you were 28! Uh!? Cost a fortune in clothes, food and versions of Football Manager/GTA etc etc.

52 divided by 14 is exactly 3.7142857132 according the calc on my dog and bone. Just sayin’. 140 is a long way off but you never know…

Happy birthday. You know who you are 🙂

February 10, 2014

trumpet lesson going on

Filed under: chinks — Trefor Davies @ 5:46 pm

There’s a trumpet lesson going on in the front room. Syncopation unless I’m very much mistaken.

There’s a pork chop being cooked in the kitchen. Nandos Peri Peri marinade.

The curtains are shut though it is still light out. Enthusiastic Mrs Davies.

A cup of tea rests on the arm of the settee. Going cold.

Work is over for the day. A night off.

Murmurs from the corridor and the sounds of a car departing. Football training.

A red light shines from the corner of the TV. Standby.

Assorted books fill three bookcases. Unsorted.

The cupboard doors are slightly ajar. Probably need closing.

Cars race by on the road outside and the sound of trumpets continues. The clock on the top of the bookcase ticks. It is showing approximately the right time. It may now be dark…

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