Splashing the cash

From the Whitley Bay park run to the Hollywood dream via the Holy Spirit; this granny has had a water themed week. Storm Ciara brought too much water with many Yorkshire homes flooded with muddy and filthy water.

We are fortunate here, our town is built on high ground well away from the river. I often complain about this, I’d like some water to run and walk beside; but sometimes there are benefits to being further away.

I read that The Splash, painted by Yorkshire born David Hockney, has sold at auction for £23.1million. To an anonymous buyer. I can reveal that it was not bought by me and, I suspect, not by anyone of my acquaintance.

It is a beautiful picture of a man made scene within a greater landscape. Central to the picture, the splash; displacement and movement of the water, evidence of an unseen diver breaking the surface. An inviting picture, this granny would enjoy swimming and floating in the pool.

One homework challenge from last week’s writing class was to write an ekphrastic poem. Not something of which I had any knowledge. Jackie explained: ‘it’s a vivid description of a scene, usually a work of art, focussing on the action to expand its meaning’. Belinda and Pauline wanted to know if it should rhyme.

I chose a different exercise. Until I saw this piece of news and focussed on the water. One splash, made up of so many droplets of water. Frozen, hanging in the frame. I gave the poetry exercise a go. And found an easy rhyme, all that cash to buy the splash…

Then, by chance, at the theology class on Monday evening, we were looking at images for the Holy Spirit. There are many, so they were shared around the group. I was allocated water. Clear life giving water: thirst quenching, cleansing, immersing, carrying us along on its flow. Powerful. And, unlike The Splash, freely available.

If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me and drink.
Whoever believes in me, streams of living water will flow within him.



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