Kia ora! This is the 2500th post on our blog. Time for a Huzzah! and a Whoop! Whoop!
We dipped our toes in bloggy waters way back in May 2007 with a tentative Hello World and a trip to the Auckland Writers and Readers Festival.
By 3 September 2009 it was time to party for post 1000 with Richard Till and Heston Blumenthal.
In 10 May 2011 we celebrated post 2001 with 2001: a library bloggy odyssey.
We’ve been through heaps in recent years, and the blog donned high vis and became a forum for earthquake support as well as reading recommendations.
Thanks to Christchurch City Libraries – and all you bloggers, readers and commenters.
Arohanui, love your work.
Even if I stood on my head (especially if I stood on my head), I have to face up to the fact that I am never going to carve a netsuke. Most of us came to know of these intricate little Japanese carvings from Edmund de Waal’s family history The hare with amber eyes – winner of the 2010 Costa Biography Award.
So taken was I with the story of de Waal’s family and their netsuke , that I recently visited the netsuke collection at the Jewish Museum in Cape Town. There you will find two hundred beautifully presented little carvings, most no bigger than 3 centimetres in height.
Looking isn’t enough – my fingers itched to palm them. They are so perfectly tactile.
Imagine then my joy at discovering that we have several netsuke books in Christchurch Libraries. The latest offering is Carving Japanese netsuke for beginners by Robert Jubb. Let’s just say that until a netsuke book is written that starts at some subterranean level well below Beginners, I am going to have to love these little objects from the standpoint of an observer.
There are things I am never going to do that I never wanted to do: bowling, abseiling, yodelling. And then there are things I am never going to do because I can’t, carving netsuke for one. This should depress me, instead I feel uplifted that netsuke exist – so small and perfectly formed.
How about you? What’s your netsuke moment, the thing you’d love to do but never will because you know you can’t?