Monday, November 20, 2006
post-modern window in stoke bruerne church
paid for by the widow fisher ... the virgin wears red, as she would have been shown in medieval times ... the (my-little-) unicorn might only be tamed by a virgin ... the chinese fish represents the interests of the late mister fisher, who loved chinese art ... the dragon reminds us ( it says on the explanatory text displayed nearby ) that evil is ever present ... gosh !
Sunday, November 19, 2006
all four foot eight of mavis ferguson-butler blocking out my light at clodock church
The guidebook to the church tells an interesting story as to how Clydawg became a martyr.
'Our crowned Prince Clydawg, now King or Ruler of Ewias, was out hunting one day (according to the Book of Llandaff) and amongst those hunting with him was one who was jealous of his relationship with a lady friend.
In his jealousy he killed Clydawg.
On the day of his burial the two oxen carrying him refused to cross a ford and the yoke between them broke.
He was buried, therefore, near the bank of the river.
Such an act of murder made Clydawg, because of his godly life, a martyr'.
A Celtic 'Llan' or church was set up around his tomb and later a wooden church would have been built on the site, to be replaced with a stone church sometime in the 11th century.
'Our crowned Prince Clydawg, now King or Ruler of Ewias, was out hunting one day (according to the Book of Llandaff) and amongst those hunting with him was one who was jealous of his relationship with a lady friend.
In his jealousy he killed Clydawg.
On the day of his burial the two oxen carrying him refused to cross a ford and the yoke between them broke.
He was buried, therefore, near the bank of the river.
Such an act of murder made Clydawg, because of his godly life, a martyr'.
A Celtic 'Llan' or church was set up around his tomb and later a wooden church would have been built on the site, to be replaced with a stone church sometime in the 11th century.
clodock churchyard lettering (3)
The script reads :
How short is life how sure is death Our days alas are few
This mortal life is but a breath; Tis like the morning dew
How short is life how sure is death Our days alas are few
This mortal life is but a breath; Tis like the morning dew
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