& J: Joshua Bradley: Blog

I’ve been experiencing a strange sensation recently. I would have thought no more of it, since it is a gentle, unobtrusive sensation; yet through repetition it demands my consideration. I’m not sure I can describe it effectively, but I shall try. For my own peace of mind.

It comes on unexpectedly, often during an act of motion, though occasionally in a sedentary situation. It is a very physical sensation, though it seems to occur in the centre of my head, surging in a wave heading to the periphery. Sometimes merely thinking is enough to bring it on. These are mere circumstances: it is harder to describe the feeling itself. It is the sensing of a sudden, warm disconnection from the nervous system, as if I have to concentrate to receive the sensory information I am used to being fed. Like an in-body out of body experience. But the warmth is crucial- a definite heat in the chest.

It seems I have experienced an unlikeliness. I was recently struck by a beautiful image in the wonderous Cabinet of Wonders- Muirhead Bone’s drawing of the British Museum reading room in construction. It seemed so chaotic. And yet the buildings built from such precarious mounts remain solidly ornate, intricate and obsessively detailed, in contrast to our own architecture.

Anyway, in a visit to the Tate Britain yesterday, I was shocked to find myself face to face with the very same drawing, featured in Drawn from the Collection, a 400 year retrospective of British drawing. It was fantastic. For some reason larger than I thought. But no less chaotic. Muirhead Bone. What a name.

Also there is Auerbach’s Head of E.O.W: one of my favourite drawings. Look. It’s barely there. I recommend the exhibition, it’s a delight. I’m going to write a longer post about a Tacita Dean piece there, so please, get drunk on anticipation.

I did this like ages ago. It’s lost. Do you like it?

My dad saw this at the Estorick gallery on Friday, and took a photo with his mobile phone. I love the design- a really simple image, in all my favourite colours. The smoke motif masking a collage of photos with its trim of curved text is an inspiration. I love the simplicity of the image, the whiff of absurdity, and the setting of the type on the red box. Check out another one on my dad’s blog.

So you remember this? Well it looks like somebody already devoted a whole load of time to developing the idea- Katja Schloz was a winner in the Type Directors Club 29^th annual.

Sadly the image is too small to see the detail, but I bet it’s there…

Check out her portfolio- it’s great.

if you are not allowed to touch the heart sometimes in spite of syntax, and are not to be loved until you know the difference between trimeter and tetrameter, may all poetry go to the deuce, and every schoolmaster perish miserably.

- Vanity Fair, Ch.XII p.131