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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=460361" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>0005 The anvil of his mind</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">He’s a regular on the TV arts review slot; <br>sitting there waiting his turn to speak, <br>he projects plainspoken ordinary man, <br>working class with intelligence; <br>more mouth, and he’d be<br>a trades union official; <br>less, and he’d be one of the invisible<br>guys in the back room, on the shop floor<br>who mend it for you, beautifully, and on time, <br>loving their craft, their skills; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">he’s present here as writer-critic.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">waiting, attentive, business-like, <br>his sleeves rolled up as if they always are, <br>his forearms are as thick as Popeye’s; <br>you almost look for the anchor tattoo; .<br>no pipes on the TV set of course these days..</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and as he sits he holds his arms and elbows<br>out and forward from his body, <br>his hands open, ready – <br>what does this strange posture mean? <br>I’m fascinated as I watch..</div><div style="margin:10px 0">is his inner self a potter, <br>about to soften and remould the literary clay? <br>or an expert butcher, ready to cleave the bleeding carcass<br>of the artwork into neat digestibles? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">those strong forearms – ah yes, I’ve got it: <br>he’s a good old-fashioned blacksmith! <br>he’s ready to take the glowing iron ingot<br>hot from the artist’s imaginative fire<br>from his assistant who’s been heating it, <br>his left hand’s reaching for the long smith’s pincers, <br>his right hand reaches for Thor’s mighty hammer of justice..</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and in the shortest time with deftest craft<br>he’s fashioned it just perfectly as you would wish it..</div><div style="margin:10px 0">but hold on – he’s been asked for his opinion; <br>now as he gives it vigorous expression, <br>sells it with his whole body-language, <br>his hands are busy fashioning<br>something more malleable, more intricate; <br>a wrought-iron gate perhaps<br>to the great house of art</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I wouldn’t fancy him as my initial editor; <br>but with his craftsman’s common touch<br>I bet I’d be grateful later on.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Michael+Shepherd">Michael Shepherd</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=460361" data-title="0005 The anvil of his mind de Michael Shepherd" data-description="He’s a regular on the TV arts review slot; 
sitting there waiting his turn to speak, 
he projects plainspoken ordinary man, 
working class with intelligence; 
more mouth, and he’d be
a trades union official; 
less, and he’d be one of the inv..."></div>
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