watched this t’other night, a curious hybrid, manages to be both western and indian, thought the acting was great, delhi feels both glossy and grotty… its funny and brutal
balram makes a choice, yet also, somehow inevitable, there is no choice to be made… enjoyed it more than the book when i read that, much yonks ago
watching telly! ‘spect its not just me, but seem to have been doing an awful lot of that this month… spring? someday!
dreadlock combover! hair follicle elegance at its finest
wind battered, drizzle drenched, pedaled to seaford head and moseyed up for a view of the seven sisters, tho much was murk
heaney and hughes! its their fault… as i slipped and floundered along through the mud, across the golf course, was busy cursing those restless shades… all that insistence on the elemental, on NATURE.. too much for any impressionable teenager
listening to audio books through lockdown, 2 of the bargain bucket cheapies were of them reading their own works… such resonant, profound voices. a joy
milk wash, ghost light, across the grass on a crisp squeak morning…. frost nettle, the shatter jagged gorse
comments:
waddle passion of the love penguin, ha, you’d better believe it! hey ho, traditional reluctance over tax return, best get on with it
Rhona: You look more frozen than the foliage,lovely!
glug a bucket of anti freeze and i’ll be grand… it’s art innit m’dear xx
I say what’s, what’s cooler than being cool? (Ice Cold!)Alright, alright, alright, alright, alright, alright, alright, alright
‘They seek him here. They seek him there. Those Frenchies seek him everywhere. Is he in Heaven? Or is he in Hell? That damned, elusive, pimpernel.’
this year, as usual, i shall mostly be losing myself into the mystic