Picasso

Well, I found him in a right old tizzy: utterly bereft of inspiration.
He'd been trying to do something about Saint Sebastian, and he'd
brought in a positive quiverful of arrows for the purpose, but he
hadn't been able to come up with an approach. I suggested that he
should knock off for a while and take a drink or two, and he readily
agreed.

Well, I sat down on that old red sofa --- you know the one, it comes
up time and again in his work --- with a glass of brandy in one hand
and my shopping beside me. He sat opposite on the high stool and ---
well, one glass led to another and, after a while, both of us fell
asleep.

Pablo --- dear old Pablo --- woke up before I did, and inspiration
seized him. But it seemed that he had abandoned Saint Sebastian:
instead, he had painted the sofa and the things on it --- but omitting
me! Well, I ask you! My chance of fame gone: my shopping --- for that
featured in the painting --- preferred to my person as a subject for a
painting.

I'm sure you've seen the ghastly thing: one of those big canvases. It
shows various things in the studio, including my shopping: arrows, red
settee, half a sole, Daz, thyme.

What's it called? Oh, you don't need me to tell you that, do you?

bjg

PS Rogue Brutal Bitter, brewed in Oregon, is great stuff.

> Today is, I am told, the feast of Saint Sebastian.

Actually, it's the feast of Saint Paula the Bearded:
"According to fourth-century legend, Paula was pursued by an enraptured
youth into a church, where she prayed for assistance. Her prayers were
promptly answered, and, to the boy's disgust, 'a beard and a moustache
quickly grew,' saving Paula dishonor and possible departure from a life of
purity."

-Aaron J. Dinkin
Dr. Whom

[...]

[...]

bjg

February 14th will see the feast day of another bearded female saint, St
Uncumber. She was a 15th century Portuguese princess who (according to
the Sunday Telegraph, as quoted in The Week), 'grew a beard to get out
of marrying the King of Sicily. Before her father crucified her,
Uncumber promised that all women who invoked her would be freed from
unwanted male attention.'

Last year, (un-specified) U.S. feminists campaigned to have everyone
turn their backs on St Valentine on February 14th, he being 'too
patriarchal' (he was a man, after all, although quite possibly
beardless) to be a suitable inspiration for love and lovers, and instead
nurture their unholy passions beneath the shady beard of the blessed St
Uncumber.

--
Rowan Dingle

>This "half a sole". Fish or foot? If the latter, and it was
>draped over a tree or similar, then I fear that you may have
>been entertaining the wrong artist. Did he, perchance, have
>a waxed tash with turned up ends?

>I think we should be told.

Like the bells? The bells! The bells! But more musically, *Hello
Dolly*?

bjg

This "half a sole". Fish or foot? If the latter, and it was

--
James Follett -- novelist http://www.davew.demon.co.uk

Leave that sheep alone; it belongs to somebody now.
--
Simon R. Hughes -- http://sult.8m.com/
<!-- Excuse the quality of my English; I have never learned Latin. -->
Quoting Usenet Articles in Follow-ups -- http://sult.8m.com/quote.html

I've been puzzling about this, on and off, and had almost made up my
mind to give in to my curiosity and request an explanation, but I was
inhibited by the fear of appearing foolish to the smarter denizens of
aue. Indeed, you might even say I was petrified. Then the penny dropped.
A very fine example of the Muir/Norden genre. Obaue: is there a word
that describes these flights of fancy?

--
Laura
(emulate St. George for e-mail)

Yes. Adulthood.

Good luck and good sailing.
s/v Kerry Deare of Barnegat (remove 'BOAT')
http://kerrydeare.tripod.com