I have mentioned already a set of masks I have made for my own pleasure, based on an imaginary ballet of The Elements. In order to let us look at these occasionally I hang them, one at a time, in our hall, and rotate them with the seasons. A harmless eccentricity, I thought, until I remembered the picture of Mr. Pooter decorating his hall. Do I resemble him, I wondered, in such a pompous charade?
A disturbing idea - until I remembered that he, of course, was hanging a mass-produced plaster stag's head. This,he thought, gave his house 'style' (which in a sense it did). This seems to represent a level of absurdity all of its own, above which I feel a certain separation.
Still, it's odd, isn't it, what people display on their walls? I mean, of course, other people. One's own home merely shows a variety of interesting or amusing objects, all displaying the operation of a discerning mind. What, after all, could be a more rational ornament than the piggy-bank, an accurate representation of a Gloucester Old Spot, and affectionately known as Simpkin, which decorates our hearth?
And I can't feel that a frock-coat was ever a really suitable dress for doing anything - least of all amateur carpentry.
Here is Air -
