DRAWING ON MUNDY

Today it was a toss up between a mushroom, a sunset or Mundy drawing - again!

Behind him on the wall you can just make out a photo of Mundy in earlier times. He is posing for a Nigerian sculptor who is making a wonderful sculpture of his head. Sadly, he had to leave the sculpture behind when he departed from Lagos in the 80s. Today, it is probably tangled with creepers in a forest, or lying, half buried in the sand, on a deserted beach in Nigeria. Reminds me of my favourite poem by Shelley.

OZYMANDIAS
I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
`My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!'
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away".

My sister Joan says it might be being used as a religious totem - a tribal god of goodwill! Mundy rather likes that idea!