San Pancracio

St Pancras

This is Saint Pancras, whom we are all familiar with due to the station in London.  He is found all over Spain in shops, bars and small businesses because he is the patron saint of work.

The historical Saint Pancras was martyred by Diocletian in the year 304 at the innocent age of fourteen and for this reason he became an exemplary saint for young people.  His young faith as a convert was strong enough to take him to martyrdom.  Sometimes he is shown in armour to signify that he was a soldier of Christ but he had no relation with the Roman army.

In his left hand you can see a book that says, "VENTE AD ME ET EGO DABO VOBIS OMNIA BOM" which should be "Venite ad me....omnia bonum"- Come to me and I will give you all good things.  Behind the book is his martyrs palm.

Superstition says that you must be given a statue of St Pancras and he should be decked with parsley to bring you luck in your work and with money.  Some people say that he should face into the building to bring the money in and, for that reason, you only see his back.  This is similar to the superstition of the Chinese frog and doesn't seem to have much history to it.

Sit & Go

There is something charming and innocent about European English.  I imagine this little bar in Avilés was christened with its unfortunate name to suggest comfort and action.  What more natural then than to combine the two concepts in one handy phrase: Sit & Go?

When I peered in the window there were classy little tables and fake leather seats.  I was rather disappointed not to find a row of lavatories where you really could Sit & Go in comfort.

Look at my website: www.writingfingertranslation.com for the good use of English

And if you want to read Spanish poetry in English my blog is just the thing: http://menemenetekel.wordpress.com/

Painting in the Rain

It may seem that I have been quiet, but I have been painting in the rain.

Asturias is famous for its rain.  In the mountains the clouds don't just scoot along overhead at a friendly distance. Descending into Belmonte you can see the whisps of the cloud blanket below you wafting across the shanks of the hill on the opposite side of the valley.  When you descend into the murk you have a vivid sense of being surrounded by moisture.

What kind of an idiot would go out painting in these conditions?

I sit under an oak tree and the wind makes the heavier drops fall on my head.  There is a light drizzle which is not enough to deter me from getting my paints and brushes out because I know it never rains all the time and when the sun breaks through the clouds and hits the chestnut leaves in the thicket in front of me it will be a spectacle.

I cannot capture these moments but I want to witness them.  Painting outside is more than just the product.  It is a meditation that you do outside in the face of the world, with the wind on your face, acorns falling on your head and your rain clothes getting muddy.  It is discomfort.  It is being alive.