Showing posts from June, 2017


They are called: matryoshka dolls, but most English-speaking people just refer to them as ‘Russian’ dolls and are a hoot to unpack starting with the large outer doll and continuing until the last wee one is got to.
Fascinating that it is only the last one, the smallest one, which is solid. All the others are by necessity hollow so that they may contain each subsequent doll.
When I was a boy, clocks were made of moving parts, radios were filled with tubes and boys would be delighted when a clock was worn out or a radio failed because we could unpack same, discover the wonder of the heretofore hidden parts that made the thing work.
Of course, any boy’s sister was less than happy should we decide to take apart some doll of theirs to discover what made it go ‘mama’!
This need to unpack, to see, to figure out, to understand has remained with me my whole life and is the way I approach problems, the reason I have a passion for history, for art, architecture, politics, philosophy, religion, you n…