David Marriott @davidmrtt

🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿🇨🇳🇨🇮🇪🇦 Editor. Shakespeare. Melville. Auden. Wine. Rossini & Verdi. The Fens. Leftie. Malaga Joined December 2011

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David Marriott @davidmrtt

10 months ago

Visiting family - found this bottle bought many years ago at auction, stored in too warm place the last few years (rest of family not wine obsessives, so they don’t get the memos) – but gosh it’s good – complete, mature, long, warm, full, spicy – a pleasant surprise.

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David Marriott @davidmrtt

10 months ago

I always think you, @Masterofwhine when I open sth from my reserves at BBR, even though you've not worked there for a while. And the nose on this! Glorious. Hope palate matches up.

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David Marriott @davidmrtt

a year ago

In the UK for a few weeks with family; ordered up some wines from storage. Tried the Spleen last night. Good. Phélan Ségur next. Then the Leoville Barton.

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Xianlin @XianlinW

a year ago

Back from a short stay in Dublin, where I saw this Ogham stone. The art of lines taking on meaning from other lines. Rulering the ruler. I thought of how I’d learned to build Chinese words in little cubicles of squares, to connect them in the streets of lined pages, and (1/2)

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Xianlin @XianlinW

a year ago

立夏. My memory of summer is windless. An old woman bent down to catch what was rushing into her arms. Not a child, but the broken head of a rotating fan. And the child, who has now grown, learns that wind is just air moving too fast for either of them to catch.

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Xianlin @XianlinW

a year ago

For those at the foothill having a crack at the made-up writing system, this wine label might be a good pointer. And also link to the installation cafa.com.cn/en/news/detail…

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Xianlin @XianlinW

a year ago

With Xu Bing’s English-cum-Chinese script I always ride a seesaw of love-hate. This one, for me, was a riddle at first, then a gimmick at most. Then, a linguistic seppuku at its best. My thoughts:

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Xianlin @XianlinW

a year ago

But here I dither. What sounds more like a lie has somehow turned out truer. Maybe that’s what I’ve always wanted to tell, in a lie: the truth. The sweet, soggy truth, the myth-making truth, of nostalgia. (3/3)

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Xianlin @XianlinW

a year ago

To lie is to get lost, purposefully, amongst the honest road signs of nouns and verbs. Between plum and rain, between falling and falling, the path forks into forks. Plums fell like rains. Or, rain fell like plums, one drop here, another there, taking its time. (2/3)

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Xianlin @XianlinW

a year ago

One hot sticky day in Shanghai plums fell like rains, which changed the local calendar forever. Since then, there’s a fifth season: plum-rain. I’ve always wanted to tell a lie made up of truths. (1/3)

Rachel B Glaser @Candle_Face

3 years ago

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Xianlin @XianlinW

2 years ago

For months I've been watching a guy in Hunan training his bonsais: the desire of roots and branches, the language of wounds and scars, the grammar of clippers and wires. Myth is the wire that wasn’t before, isn’t after. Myth is the absence of the wire that grows into a presence.

Alina Stefanescu @aliner

2 years ago

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Xianlin @XianlinW

2 years ago

My new old thing. Whatever arrived by post on the 14th of Feb carries the curse of the pun. Even a post-Valentine post cannot redeem it. So here we go:

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Xianlin @XianlinW

2 years ago

For the precious few who might see this post, and the fewer who might see a riddle in it, the answer is.. 不再执牛耳的朱耷 and 不在皇家的黄胄 2/2

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Xianlin @XianlinW

2 years ago

Of all the new acquaintances I’ve made in the past twelve months, these two handsome fellas certainly stand out. Not quite the birth of a zoologist yet, but here’s my layperson’s comparative study of quadrupeds. 1/2

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Xianlin @XianlinW

2 years ago

the granite duo who have always known a younger me. The thing that, though half a world away, I can now withdraw. Is it a secret that statues are international banks for memories? Is it a myth that childhood can be yours again whenever you find yourself in their shadow? (2/2)

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Xianlin @XianlinW

2 years ago

There’s a statue of Engels in Manchester, salvaged by some history-minded artist a few years ago. Seeing the picture, I know it has in its keeping the very thing I want, the thing that is mine. The thing that I deposited way back in Shanghai, in Fuxing Park, with (1/2)

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Xianlin @XianlinW

2 years ago

when it is not there. (3/3) 《快雪时晴图》黄公望(元) Clearing after Snowfall - by Huang Gongwang (1269-1354) *The painting is a response to the eponymous calligraphy work by his mentor Zhao Mengfu, who also drew inspiration from an earlier Jin calligrapher Wang Xizhi (4th C).

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Xianlin @XianlinW

2 years ago

the way a wall lives its life backwards: the last brick laid down is often the first one envisaged. Follow the painting to where it began – a blank page, a phrase, an idea. In all art, as in all stories we tell ourselves, the sun has always been the forethought, even (2/3)

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Xianlin @XianlinW

2 years ago

The sun hangs there, like an afterthought: after the snow has settled, the ink dried up, after a canopy of washed-out grey turns clouds into mountains, and mountains into clouds. An upside-down world, sealed with a smear of cinnabar. But thoughts can be temporally deceptive,(1/3)

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Xianlin @XianlinW

2 years ago

I woke up remembering most of the dream, or as much as it is possible to remember something that never happened. Outside, not too far off, the Mediterranean lulled calmly on. The sea, and the sea, must run its course.3/3