From my work-in-progress on animated objects and things: On my wall hangs an antique ship’s glass: a barometer containing blue liquid that rises when storms approach and falls when the sun shines. Looking at it brings images of tall masts, flapping sails, restless seas, and open skies. I can almost smell water too long in cask and hear shouted orders from sandpapery throats: “Hands ‘bout ship!” “Let go and haul!” The brutal crack of the cat-o-nine-tails as England fought for her life against the Corsican tyrant. My ancestors smelled that gunpowder, tamped and ran out those great guns. Some also fought under Napoleon. Come to think of it, Napoleon was my ancestor. Within an ancient piece of nautical equipment dips and rises centuries of family meteorology.
Posted on: Sun, 30 Jun 2013 20:12:26 +0000
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