Month: November 2025

facsimiles and jaspers v

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A fundamental thought to much of my work has been that empire is still a largely unacknowledged element to English culture. And that includes to liberal arts. This Loon was copied from a watercolour in a facsimile of a book tracking the activities of British colonists in the Americas – in between their visits to their ‘interests’ in Ireland. Natural History, painting, and scientific illustration / botanical illustration have roots in these projects. They feed each other much as early anthropology and theories of race, eugenics, and ‘survival of the fittest’ – ideologies posed as science – are worked in to grading people according to worth and worthlessness. The primary values actually being use according to coloniser and exploiter. As in: the same values placed on the population of England — Britain. Dividing the human entity from the collective, and dividing the subject; the ‘not’ bourgeois into facets useful and not useful…..

There were a couple of clear successes in this show. My favourite was a couple of students who popped in. Both initially coming from exUSSR states, one from Ukraine and the other from Uzbekistan, they both said they loved the show. The Uzbekistani said she had done a similar thing for her a-levels – excellence at every level – her perspective was that of someone who’s culture was at the receiving end of Russian colonialism. They both were very enthusiastic. And despite the occasionally obtuse way I had attempted to describe my intent – had understood before speaking to me (not in their first languages) – my praxis. It’s nice to be seen.

A Popular British Ballad Poem

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The Little Farm OR The Weary Ploughman.

You husbandmen and ploughman, of every degree,

I pray you give attention unto me,

I hope it will offend not meaning any harm

But concerning of a Bonny lass who kept a little farm.

CHORUS I was both weak and weary by daylight in the morn, I thought it young and growing but to stubble it was worn.

I stept up to to this blooming lass thinking to get employ,

She said young man be civil and do not me annoy,

My farm though in the lowlands was never overflown,

I’ve made a resolution to keep as my own.

I said my charming fairmaid I am a husbandman,

And have had great experience in cultivating land,

There’s nothing comes amiss to me in the farming line I vow,

You’ll find me likewise useful in working as your ploughman.

She said no longer time delay your mind shall be at ease,

My farm-house lies in the valley between two poplar trees,

Surrounded too much with rushes I’ve long kept in store,

There is a tree you’ll see growing each side of the door.

I said with your permission I there will enter in.

Command me at your leisure my labour to begin,

You’ll find me use to ploughing likewise my seed to sow

If we agree you soon will see it for to thrive and grow.

With courage in good order she said come try your skill,

The plow is near the furrough at the bottom of the hill,

Above the hill two milking- resemble cocks of hay

If you feel weak no further seek a pillow for to seek

At length with toil being weary, I laid my head between

Those milking-pails that were so white although the grass was green.

The land being in bad order it made me sweat and groan,

I was forc’d to yield and quit the field for it was overflown.

She said when you have rested your strength for to regain,

If it’s your intention commence ploughing again,

No said I excuse me and do not frown

Although I’m young and in my prime my courage is pull’d down.

Trad? From the Firth collection at the Bodleian – also ‘the common muse’ penguin book of British ballad poetry C15 – C20.

There are quite a few versions of this lyric (something on the subject). Robert Burns wrote a version.