K
klause
Guest
In the last couple of years I've been beguiled by vintage briar, to the exclusion of all else - I have been like a love-sick school boy chasing after the school beauty, occasionally getting a glance from those beautiful eyes, enough to sustain me, to let me know she is aware of my existence, though untroubled by it. It has been a consuming, mainly one-sided, affair - taking what I can - being happy to get a smile, to be in the presence of that laugh, to feel the joy radiating from her soul, touching and warming all those in her presence.
So it has been with the old briars; they touch me, deeply, lighting my soul, and telling me stories of lives well lived, and times unknowable in the truest sense, taking me into deep, sustained reverie. They have enhanced my thoughts, and consequently my life, if not my wallet. But, recently I had an epiphany - the spell was shattered, splintered into a million pieces in a blistering, blinding moment of insight. The Danes had returned, marauding across my horizon, enticing me to adventure, to open my eyes and look afresh at the world, to see the innovation, the elegance, beauty, and art of the new carvers - I'd always known this, but had been distracted by a classical beauty as old as time (or so it seemed).
I am no longer looking for old briar - I have enough, for a number of lifetimes - I will admire it when I see it, and maybe, just maybe, linger a little longer than is gentlemanly in its presence, but I will let it go, to another, mojo will be equally appreciative of its charms. However, I have a couple still i transit, and one arrived on Friday. I thought I would not be as enamoured of its charms now that I was released from my mental captivity, but I was wrong.
The pipe in question is a magnificent Bulldog (a shape that I admire, and enjoy smoking - a true classic, if ever there was one), made by Albert Baker & Co. It is in near pristine condition. The previous owner cared for it greatly; externally clean, a well maintained cake, a relatively untouched rim, the merest hint of a tooth mark on the orific stem, and internally spotless. The owner, loved this pipe, as it is well smoked, but treated gently.
I knew it was big, but the actuality of it was a surprise to me. It is huge, not quite magnum size, but not far off. It fits the hand nicely, settling in like it was always meant to be there. It is quite beautiful - at first, in picture form, I thought it may be a little ungainly, but in reality it's elongated lines are elegance incarnate. It knows it. There is a confidence about this pipe, not just from its size enabling it to shoulder in to any company, but from the knowledge that it is of perfect form, like the school beauty, at least to the eyes of those that follow her every move. So it is with this pipe. But it is not the teasing over confidence that can mar beautify, it is the quiet, gentle confidence and strength that enhances beauty, draws the eyes, and captivates the heart; that knows you are caught in a spell, but does not do anything that may hurt you - why would it? It's sole purpose is to make you smile, and bring joy, and happiness into your life.
This pipe does that, to no small degree.
The other pipes are standard sized (WHC in the centre, and no-name at bottom), for an idea of scale. The photo doesn't really show how big it is - it's 6 3/4 inches long.
So it has been with the old briars; they touch me, deeply, lighting my soul, and telling me stories of lives well lived, and times unknowable in the truest sense, taking me into deep, sustained reverie. They have enhanced my thoughts, and consequently my life, if not my wallet. But, recently I had an epiphany - the spell was shattered, splintered into a million pieces in a blistering, blinding moment of insight. The Danes had returned, marauding across my horizon, enticing me to adventure, to open my eyes and look afresh at the world, to see the innovation, the elegance, beauty, and art of the new carvers - I'd always known this, but had been distracted by a classical beauty as old as time (or so it seemed).
I am no longer looking for old briar - I have enough, for a number of lifetimes - I will admire it when I see it, and maybe, just maybe, linger a little longer than is gentlemanly in its presence, but I will let it go, to another, mojo will be equally appreciative of its charms. However, I have a couple still i transit, and one arrived on Friday. I thought I would not be as enamoured of its charms now that I was released from my mental captivity, but I was wrong.
The pipe in question is a magnificent Bulldog (a shape that I admire, and enjoy smoking - a true classic, if ever there was one), made by Albert Baker & Co. It is in near pristine condition. The previous owner cared for it greatly; externally clean, a well maintained cake, a relatively untouched rim, the merest hint of a tooth mark on the orific stem, and internally spotless. The owner, loved this pipe, as it is well smoked, but treated gently.
I knew it was big, but the actuality of it was a surprise to me. It is huge, not quite magnum size, but not far off. It fits the hand nicely, settling in like it was always meant to be there. It is quite beautiful - at first, in picture form, I thought it may be a little ungainly, but in reality it's elongated lines are elegance incarnate. It knows it. There is a confidence about this pipe, not just from its size enabling it to shoulder in to any company, but from the knowledge that it is of perfect form, like the school beauty, at least to the eyes of those that follow her every move. So it is with this pipe. But it is not the teasing over confidence that can mar beautify, it is the quiet, gentle confidence and strength that enhances beauty, draws the eyes, and captivates the heart; that knows you are caught in a spell, but does not do anything that may hurt you - why would it? It's sole purpose is to make you smile, and bring joy, and happiness into your life.
This pipe does that, to no small degree.
The other pipes are standard sized (WHC in the centre, and no-name at bottom), for an idea of scale. The photo doesn't really show how big it is - it's 6 3/4 inches long.