Alliteration drives content on some blogs like fish on fridays, mermaids on mondays, tritons or trolls on tuesdays . . . . But I’m not committing to sirens: it could be scales, sea monsters, … In fact, in doing this post, I learned anew what sirens really are. Not at all synonymous with mermaids, these beings, which Ulysses plugged his ears for, live in the air, bird women as well as make-make of the birdman cult. Scroll through this link.

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I’m not sure of the function this bowsprit serves except to keep the anchors well away from the bow of this steamer, but I love the Lady’s wings. She’s a siren. And here’s a Kafka quote on sirens: “Now the Sirens have a still more fatal weapon than their song, namely their silence. And though admittedly such a thing never happened, it is still conceivable that someone might possibly have escaped from their singing; but from their silence certainly never.”

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So’s this one, possibly a swan, whose feathers stolen, choses to look for the culprit from the facade of a building in a city nearby. I wonder why birdfolk–sirens and otherwise– appear in folklore of so many peoples.

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Which brings me to puffins. Where might puffin folk reside? How about a puffin figurehead? In earlier posts here and here, nothing’s approximated puffins, yet.

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All fotos by Will Van Dorp

PS: Check out Day-Tripper’s “The Peking and the Star.”

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