Stuff

So the eclipse came, and the wind blew, and the leaves flew, and the only glimpse of the moon we got showed her determinedly full.

And we drank hot chocolate and had the kind of conversations that can't be repeated, because there's everything and nothing to them.

Friends are the best.

Larians has posted in his LJ today, about many things including Venice and the art in the Peggy Guggenheim collection. I feel he's being a little harsh, and in defence of Aht, put up a couple of pieces from the museum:

Here's poor old Pollock:
http://www.guggenheimcollection.org/site/artist_works_129_0.html

Not impressed, eh? Oh dear. Well, let's try some William Baziotes.

http://www.guggenheimcollection.org/site/artist_work_md_13_3.html

What? You don't feel the mystery of the spiritual landscape, the soft resonance and sensuality of primitive form and texture? *sigh* back to the old favourites then:

http://www.guggenheimcollection.org/site/artist_work_lg_102_1.html

It's called the angel of the city, and as you can see, he's full of joy. Urban myth says his member is screw-on, so that it can be removed for the benefit of the coy, and our guidebooks claim that the watergates through which he can be seen from the canal are often closed to spare passers-by the surprise of his extreme friendliness.

What worries me is that there was enough material to give the angel a priapic member, but the poor horse has to go without ears. A message in there somewhere I think.

Time to work. Bleah.