A few words about the curator of this blog would seem to be in order.
Cantankerous, curmudgeonly, I’m a professor of architecture in the sense that I profess, and have been doing that for fifty years at a place where the folks have been more congenial than the climate — but things change. [In June 2023, this will have to be put in the past tense.] Capricorn, agnostic (gnostic wannabe), with Marxist inclinations, there are a great number of reasons to dislike me; pick a good one. “Sticks and stones may break my bones…” but names merely cause internal damage that can’t be seen by the casual observer.
I am archipelagic, not continental.
The conventional wisdom on good writing? Choose strong verbs. Avoid adverbs; limit adjectives. Yet the latter have been on my mind lately, so I got out the OED to explore a few that apply here: feckless, for example, and wistful.
At my birth, feck may have been in short supply, or I was standing behind the door, for I claim to be among the most feckless of folks in these parts or any other times. On the other hand, I am awash in a tsunami of wist. Some days — today being one of them — I might claim a corner on the market. You need wist? Come talk to me; I’ve got more than I can handle. Looking back at some of the pieces I’ve written, at the designs I’ve crafted, time and distance show me their elevated levels of wistfulness — and total absence of feck. This truth isn’t offered as apology, however; simply a warning if you’re running low on antacid.
Oh, and is it even worth mentioning that original material contained herein, both written and drawn by me or another contributor, is copyright by the Agincourt Project.
*These three images are the artistic output in watercolor, colored pencil and gouache of our talented friend Mr Jonathan Taylor Rutter — who declines to sign his work. What will future art historians make of this? By the way, if you’d like to see these three images and six others, come on over and we’ll sit on the porch and break out the bourbon.
Incidentally, should you wish to contact the curator directly, I can be found most days at: RHLMRamsay@gmail.com
I suspect that, read in a loose chronological fashion, these 1,800+ entries are the clinical record of my descent into something approaching madness. Or not. You can decide.
Stop by any time; we’ll put the kettle on.