There was a businessman whose factories and warehouses were busy and his lorries ran day and night. Few could equal his business acumen or his imaginative solutions to problems. His offices bustled with typists and telephone receptionists; his clerks had adding machines. Everything that in the early 1930s was up to date, modern.
Well, this is a fillet, bought at my local supermarket. So the kind producers of this delicacy added some water for its comfort. Obviously they are fish lovers, subscribers to the RSPCF (the Royal Society For the Protection of Cruelty to Fish, a fictional variant of the RSPCA which cares for animals.) There’s also a nice little absorbent pad for the fish to sit on.
Providing life’s little niceties is what supermarkets are all about, isn’t it?
There are well over a dozen posts on the topic of the Subconscious, and twenty on my private blog. Yet in all of them I haven’t discussed the subject directly. However, there was a purpose in this: none of us can perceive our subconscious in any way. My rambling around the subject has been on account of this problem: putting the situation backwards meant that it’s been possible to describe the outward manifestation of the subconscious without speaking about it directly.
After all, nobody can see it, so speaking about it directly will imply that I am stark raving mad. Well, no few people think that already; the problem being that in telling me that I am mad, they inevitably demonstrate the nature of the subconscious. They do this by hanging themselves with their own rope (1).
The Safety Of The Blindingly Obvious.
It was during the time that I helped as a painter at the Stoomstichting Nederland, a museum that preserves German steam locomotives in Rotterdam. I had been asked to repaint the front of a post-war tank engine in the colours of the Deutsche Bundesbahn, which were very slightly different from the pre-war Reichsbahn. The colours were black and red, only the Bundesbahn red was a shade less striking than the previous colour scheme. German managers, in common with most bureaucrats, are not imaginative people.
Rudolf Steiner spoke of some very odd things, but then, these things he spoke of are only odd because most people haven’t a clue what he was banging on about.
I want to look at the nature of what Rudolf Steiner termed ‘Gift Money’. This is part of how humans can express themselves, should they want to. Should, that is, they be able to. It is a rare being today who understands what freedom truly is (1), leave alone comprehends the consequences of it (2). People today only understand freedom from within the constraints of their own ability to perceive. This is one example of it.
I was chatting with a friend on Facebook, which led me to post his earlier than planned.
It was two weeks ago that I visited the Museum de Fundatie in Zwolle, and their exhibition “Zie de Mens, 100 Jaar, 100 Gezichten” – See the man, 100 years, 100 portraits. I hadn’t really intended to go, it is modern art, after all. There were one or two pictures that were worth seeing – Isaac Israël’s portrait of a woman standing in front of van Gogh’s sunflowers most certainly was, and is to be the focus of an upcoming post.
This post deals with the freedom a painter has when it comes to putting a brush onto canvas. I mean, it is possible to paint practically anything and people from Picasso to Jackson Pollock have pushed the boundaries well beyond the sensible, leave alone the intelligible. Thankfully, this is an exhibition focussing on portraiture.
“Even though I am not young anymore, I still want to improve my life… We are here to contribute to this country.”
There are plenty similar stories across the world: Syrians came to other countries after their homes and businesses were destroyed by insurgents. It is not a nice time to try and find a job, the after effects of the banking crash still linger here in Europe. Which means the pressure on jobs is the harder.