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john davies
notes from a small vicar
from a parish
in Liverpool, UK

    Sunday, March 14, 2004
    Home is where the art is
     
    I'm not the only one who has moved recently. Today, I visited Mr & Mrs Earnest Teadrinker, regular contributors to this site, who have moved up the road to Garstang (or, according to their three-year-old, "Arsegang"). Very different sort of town, very different sort of house. But y'know, I knew it was theirs when I walked into the kitchen and saw a familiar objet d'art on the wall - a clock in the guise of a royal blue ceramic teapot.

    "Home is where the art is," I may have intuited at that point, seeing that thing before me which has been a feature of the various kitchens we've brewed-up in over many years.

    "Home is where the art is," we agreed, discussing the challenge of finding places to hang old familar pictures on new and different walls, contemplating having to lose some valued pieces of art because they just don't fit in our new homes.

    "Home is where the art is," I'm thinking now, back home, casting around this new place where hang those pics which have accompanied me all over:

    That Time Magazine cover of August 15, 1988, a mosaic of Christ's face built from 30 different classic pictures, the headline asking, in the week The Last Temptation of Christ was released, 'Who was Jesus?';

    A poster advertising Body and Soul, an experiment in multi-media worship for people fed up of church, which we ran for a couple of years around 1990;

    The cover of a special edition of Coracle commemorating George MacLeod, in which he stares out stern-faced, sharp-eyed, whiskered, imposing as always;

    A profile of Dylan Thomas by Paul Peter Piech, which he kindly gave me at a Cardiff exhibition in 1987;

    A strange, but colourful, scribble of two oddly-shaped characters dancing alongside each other, surrounded by the text "Two little spacemen / one called John one called Jim / Blib blob blib blob / Which is which? / Dib dib dib dib / Take your pick". This was presented to us in 1988 by a rather stoned art student who lived upstairs from our flat - which may have possibly been the first home of that royal blue ceramic teapot clock....