Here are the photos, and written contributions for the 12twelve12 project. The pictures are presented in the order that they were saved onto my computer, (with the exception of the spiders webs, which I decided to bunch together at the start); the written stuff as the mood took me…
Copyright remains with the original author, (if you click on a photo you will be sent to a page where details of it can be seen). Please mention 12twelve12 if you share them.All that labouring, careful weaving and spinning. creating a work of art: at once practical and beautiful, both kitchen and studio. . What do you think as you draw in silk? Do you meditate on creation? Are you making a statement with each knotted curve, Considering infinite metaphysics, the essence of meaning, Or the arachnid equivalent of shopping lists and school runs? . Either way, what must you think today… Your web complete, perfectly positioned to mislead the wayward fly, the material so powerful, invisible, dangerous. But today, beaten by the weather, the early morning frost your only prisoner. . We, who see what we choose to, marvel at the hexagonal impact on your masterpiece, shards of ice stretching to the sun, so brittle, so perfect. . While you must be fuming at the injustice of it all, The fly stays at home, reading his horoscope in the warm, while your meticulous operation sits highlighted and clear serving no purpose other than as part of a social media based art project. (poem by Andy Campbell)
A poem I wrote to commemorate 12/12/12
(by Emma Major)
(Alison Summers)10 11 12 or 12 12 12
Into the stream of my consciousness I hereby delve
With thoughts of food and pangs of hunger ready to sink me under, but these carnal manifestation sensations I now shelve
With emotional agitation resultant from less than devotional investigation of pure historical opinion, this Degree is deprivation
Cease Let the myriad plethora of cocepts and questions be quietened and calmed
Now burst through forth instead from within this head out the fingertip ends something else and creativity
Missed out on 10 11, but as sure as there’s a heaven and as certainly as we can’t work our way up there ourselves
So surely it’s worth stopping the study, suspending movement of mind and body, and spending a moment to mark the meek majesty of 12 12 12 (by Luke Briggs)
(picture by Gavin Beat-Box TyTe)
Twelve rhymes from BBC headlines today…
Defiant North Korea in rocket launch success
BBC on the scene of Damascus endless blitz
Ground freezing fog disrupts UK London Flights
Lights go out – Sitar maestro Ravi Shankar dies
Frozen volcano erupts like Armageddon
Obama recognises Syrian opposition
TV Christmas lights switched on in 3D
The latest craze of a work-out? Campanology
Papers reflect on Britain’s changing look
Teaching teens to live without Facebook
Learn to how to draw like artist Quentin Blake
Search for life in an icy polar lake
Kraftwerk gig breaks the Tate ticket site
Grease’s Newton-John and Travolta reunite
The robot race is on to fix a nuclear plant
Government rolls out same-sex marriage plans
The end of the era for the radio prank call?
There’s a deadly shooting at an Oregon mall
For Donaldson and Poots someone’s putting the boot in
‘Stop your foreign meddling’ warns Vladimir Putin
‘I could hear women having their babies while I was losing mine’
The ups, downs and ups of BBC News online
Aussie parliament speaker’s charges are shelved
A wedding date to remember – twelve, twelve, twelve
(Gavin Beatox TyTe)12 things on 12/12 early rise buy phone book hobbit gym workout
(by Dave Meldrum)A grandmother day yesterday, babysitting my granddaughter who was very, very good! In the train, going down to Kent the countryside looked absolutely beautiful covered with frost.
(by Sue Diplock)
Here’s a little poem I recall that might be a bit appropriate for today:
“Tutu was a racing horse.
Wunwun was one too.
Tutu won one race one day.
Wunwun won one too!”
(by Andrew Musgrave)
(video by Simon Hall)
also known as 12.12.12.
Thirty-six, nine, One thousand seven hundred and twenty eight,
amongst other mathematical possibilities.
A day of supreme significance,
as are all others.
This day, though,
we choose to mark with memory:
A noted activity, a reflection on meaning.
hours, days, minutes, seconds, no time spent.
We see frozen spiders webs
many of them
but so, so beautiful
and each a unique masterpiece.
Children distracted by Father Christmas and associated company,
adults distracted by sunsets and Jack Frost’s handiwork,
(and mulled cider).
Captured and cajoled by consumption,
we nonetheless escape briefly to the freedom of a pause:
to concentrate on breathing, being and becoming.
For tomorrow too
is another day of significance:
(by Andy Campbell)
Oh, and this should be added, I think…