Welcome to the art of curiosity; my personal amble through the worlds of art, crafts, books & all manner of other curiosities. You'll find examples of my jewellery & art work plus an account of how I'm attempting to confound depression & my bipolarity by pursuing my creativity. There's a lot of whimsy too; my mind set is distinctly frivolous at times!

So, Dear Reader, won't you join me on my journey?

Sunday, 15 April 2007

So which one of us had the bird brain?


Diving Belle Barbed Bracelet

I had a strange encounter with a bird today and cross my heart, I swear it is true. It was a beautiful hot day & since my room is the coolest ( it's cool in all senses of the word, but I would say that, wouldn't I?) in the house, I decided to work on the bed. (Actually my bed is one of my favourite places to work as I can spread all my kit & caboodle out, plus I'm extremely fortunate to have the luxury of a panoramic view across the valley & the golf course. I wonder whether other jewellery designers have a favourite place in which to work?) Lifting my head ready for a daydream at the view, I found myself staring into the eyes of a partridge. I haven't been sleeping too well recently so my first thought was that my mind was performing some kind of pirouette. The second thought wandered down the avenue of, 'Why is a partridge sitting on my window sill?'

A pair of pheasants & a pair of partridges have sensibly escaped from the land belonging to the local shoot & have taken up residence within the shrubs & brambles that separate the houses from the golf course. They're very fond of our garden - there's bird food around & the canine guardian's only concern is how many flies she can bark at - she ignores anything larger. So I'm used to seeing these birds amble around the garden although last week, I was a little surprised to find one of the partridges sitting on the terrace just outside of the sitting room. At this point I should mention that our house is built on the side of a mountain. OK, it's not a mountain but it is a very steep chalk ridge so we have 'terraced down' from the top of the drive to the bottom of the garden - our plot is a testament to the strength of reinforced retaining walls. Everybody else in Treble Close needs crampons to traverse their own properties.

I digress. The bird & I stared at one another. I felt slightly uncomfortable because it reminded me of a social encounter with someone who you think you know, who seems to know you, but whose name or any other useful information have deserted you. I slowly looked away, but I carried on looking at the bird out of the corner of my eye. There is no doubt in my mind that the partridge was convinced that I was the alien.

After logging this experience in my mind as memorable, I got fed up with being stared at by the bird (I now know what it's like to be a budgie) and carried on with my original objective of casting a dreamy eye over the golf course. And lo, I spotted the reason for my 'Close Encounters of the Bird Kind'. Juno, our well padded border terrier, had commandeered the bird bath & was lying in it. The partridge wasn't interested in me or my family sized bed. The temptation was clear - she wanted use of my wet room!

The facts are true but the conjecture is the result of an over-active imagination!

© Jennifer Dangerfield 2007

5 comments:

Jean Katherine Baldridge said...

I love this story!!! ps: love your earrings shown below, too! they are fantastic!!!!

the art of curiosity said...

Thank you Jean. After a good night's sleep, the thing which is stuck in my mind is the bird's gimlet-eyed stare - it was positively sinister! Can you imagine a cross btween a goat's eye and an eagle's? It was fiercesome!

I wonder if Daphne Du Maurier wrote 'The Birds' after an unpleasant encounter with a partridge?

Jean Katherine Baldridge said...

geesh! and there is a word for you--gimlet eyes!!! how fun!

Jean Katherine Baldridge said...

and...hahaha!!! re Daphne Du Maurier. is there anything you don't know . you are so cool!

the art of curiosity said...

Dear honey pie ( that was the definitive one, wasn't it?) the interior of my head resembles one of those bleak & dusty landscapes that you see in spaghetti westerns. There's just the odd bit of tumbleweed blowing around - Daphne must have got tangled up in one of those ;-) But THANK YOU for making my big head swell a little more xox