(from back in July, but still love the song)
Nooooooo! in a mood of reckless foolhardy optimism i checked the weather forecast for the next month…. just don’t
the most upbeat quote i found was this, i imagine it intoned in the voice of a lonely weather boffin, forlorn and lachrymorose:
“For southern and eastern areas there may be a lull in the wettest and windiest weather briefly, but confidence in this is low.”
i love to stomp around, the ego rage of indignation, a pompous preen of arrogance, subsumed by the sudden squalls of feeling
mind and emotion are so closely interwoven, thoughts and feelings topple into each other, a dunken lurch, the waltz round the dance floor
today i woke thinking more of kindness, what is the basis of kindness? why empathy and compassion, often people proclaim their heart centredness?
but with me, what do i achieve, being good to my friends (who does not do that?) being friendly to people i like?
hmm, actually i do not believe that altruism is merely a sop to ego…
i like to think of myself as kind, but i think this is because often i have been stuck on the edge, peripheral
alone, feeling ignored, with nowhere to look but outwards… yeah, many of us knows how that feels… somet
and sometimes compassion flourishes through reluctance, of grumpily not much feeling like helping someone but doing it anyway
or of seeing someone, feeling incapable of acting, but feeling that twinge of remorse.. and i actually think there is merit in that too
of course it works best when heart, emotion and spirit are all in yoke! Be helpful with joy in your heart! cultivate the softness, cherish feelings of gentleness, gratitude and generosity x
yay! tho like everyone else a huge relief!
Pendry I see a Bacigalupi stood for Congress in California. One of yours? (Unfortunately she’s a Republican. Fortunately she lost.)
Richard Basgallop oooh really!our tentacles are everywhere ‘el pulpo’, i’m rather glad she lost too! x
……. old blog post for Yuki, from my adventures away travelling last year
………………..
…………………………
Back in Bangkok again
Brush bustling down the Khao San road. Jostled by the endless stream of tourists.
Depressing in their hordes. Feeling part of the great Wilderbeest trek down through south east asia.
Cow Pat Khao San Road
I have grown used to the tatty charms of Nepal, almost tourist free in the chill of January.
But here, oh, oh the heat! A bit like being flopped beneath one of those giant hot towels you get thrust upon you on the airplane. ‘more coffee?’ A teensy snapette of a biscuit and a huge heat steaming hot Flannel!
But the heat in the city is not so cleansing, a great, dirty oppressive heat.
The air bereft of nourishment, all dust and grime.
Mingled nicely with my continual tingle coating of sweat.
Mug swamp hot. Uncomfortable!
………….
Funny I didn’t mind it so much up at Angkor Wat. Banished by good company!
My mind still stirred by thoughts of the Bayonne, of Katie, of Eva and Martin
my friends! an Austrian Woman and a Slovakian couple.
How we’d hire a Moto, a Tuk Tuk for the day and bomb off to the ruins. A cool breeze as we whisked along on the road through the jungle, mostly laughing.
And yes …the Bayonne, a miracle, a temple with over 200 sculptures of the Buddha Alokoshivetas head
Each carved 12 feet high. They are positioned so that wherever you sit amidst the ruins, at least one of them is staring at you and others, in profile or perched beakily at angles.
Like being in a stone, crazy, hall of mirrors
Panopticon.
The all seeing eye
But somehow, really calm. I shut my eyes, now and still clearly see that face, the calm expression, a tease of a half smile. the promise of gentleness. In stone. In me. Forever
……………..
In Bangkok, slumped beneath a twirling helicopter of a fan. Sipping an ice coffee.
My torso pockmarked with bites, machine gun riddled, as itchy as fuck.
Kel, she says they’re from bed bugs. yeucchh.
Relax don’t struggle against the tide of tourists, enjoy it for just what it is
gawp, hopefully not too noticeably, at the girls, a pageant of passing beauty. Both Tourists and the Thais. sigh. joy
But to escape the heat, hop on a tourist boat, the splash, the slap and giggle gurgle of water beneath the prow.
Away, downstream past the huge megalopolis of buildings and swank of brand new sky scrapers.
then on the Sky Train and along to
Siam Square
The biggest shopping center in all Bangkok. a palace of AIR CONDITIONING
Hurrah! Acres and acres of cool
Inside everywhere are fountains and walls of water
up, high on the fourth floor is a Mercedes Showroom. Dozens of cars, Shiney beasts.
How did they get there, somehow winched in? Flown up, to it’s nest by a giant metal eagle? Rok
down in the basement is a pool full with Water Lilys and Lotuses, where enormous Coy Carp and goldfish loiter.
I spend hours in the oriental food section of the supermarket. Free tasters. yum.
A meal from just absent minded grazing
exotic weirdly coloured chutneys which i daub on crackers
next debating the differing merits of a handful of spicey peanuts versus four dried strawberries. hmmm. yum. maybe
We all enjoy the tipple of the conniseur. the contemplative grimace of the gourmand
Too much I’ve got a tummy ache!
Later, the serene swan glide on the up escalator, snoop around a bit, then drift back down on the next down escalator. I could pllay on them all day! My own imagined Prozac Muzak playing in my head.
Super Smooothe
The gentle drift: hither, then thither. Like at the beach, a calm, toe tickling, lap lapping tide.
Up in the loft is an Imax cinema, a ten pin bowling alley. everywhere gaggles of thai teenagers
just out and about. like me, having a fine day
Goodness Gothness Gracious, some of them, mostly in black, with smeared down hairdos are even Emo’s!
A parade of Gucci, Yves San laurent and Dolce and gabbana boutiques.
each displaying one garment and gaurded by a very snooty, frosty shop person.
yeah yeah check out boy.
Finally though i settle in the wedding section
There is a big banner which proclaims ‘We are in Love’
nearby a carousel of mannequins dressed in wedding dresses spins slowly, around and around.
Gently Surreal
There is a 3 piece band, live, in tuxedos
with a hammond organ and much plinkety plonking they churn out songs of embarrasing, syrupy Romantic Noodling
There are row upon row of seats. All empty. I sit there all alone.
Pathos, In the Palace of Romance. beneath the banner ‘We are in Love’
solitary, forlorn and greatly entertained
They finish their set, a little bow.
I applaud. bravo. well done. encore!
molten metal, a drop of a lump of burnished orange
Flung suddenly into water. the seethe of its abrupt solidity, startled into personality
this flower, brittle yet strong, this ingot, unique in its vibrant contortion
and? as multidimensial souls are we thus thrust into this our world?
forged, tethered to the realm of perception
it is natural that we feel the vast sense of sorrow, of loss
but beyond, through our summoning, through this blossoming, majestic, the continual flow of beauty
there ya go, bit odd for facebook prob, written in a burst of insomnia last night, strange to be kept awake by the fret of words rather than all the other more obvious worldly worries
rather too many this and thus for my liking, the inspiration tho was an epsiode of horizon, frequently mind blowing, in which they were casually discussing extra dimensions which lie coiled up within the usual four, which i guess got me a spiritually pondering
oh and the other obvious inspiration metal! bones of the mountain, the earth, north, apparently all metal workers in ancient egypt were dwarves (dwarf? delve?) and this tradition continued with the greek god hesphaistous (however ya spell it!)
we take metal for granted today, but what must it have been like centuries ago, the allure of shine, in a world dowdy with dust
how hard won and hoarded each and every shard, alchemy
oh and the sound of metal, blacksmiths hammering, the continual brutal pound, the Ring Ringing throughout the land
else… once more the summoning, the call, the moist clamour of the peal from the tongue of the bell… indeed
Side by side, their faces blurred,
The earl and countess lie in stone,
Their proper habits vaguely shown
As jointed armour, stiffened pleat,
And that faint hint of the absurd—
The little dogs under their feet.
Such plainness of the pre-baroque
Hardly involves the eye, until
It meets his left-hand gauntlet, still
Clasped empty in the other; and
One sees, with a sharp tender shock,
His hand withdrawn, holding her hand.
They would not think to lie so long.
Such faithfulness in effigy
Was just a detail friends would see:
A sculptor’s sweet commissioned grace
Thrown off in helping to prolong
The Latin names around the base.
They would not guess how early in
Their supine stationary voyage
The air would change to soundless damage,
Turn the old tenantry away;
How soon succeeding eyes begin
To look, not read. Rigidly they
Persisted, linked, through lengths and breadths
Of time. Snow fell, undated. Light
Each summer thronged the glass. A bright
Litter of birdcalls strewed the same
Bone-riddled ground. And up the paths
The endless altered people came,
Washing at their identity.
Now, helpless in the hollow of
An unarmorial age, a trough
Of smoke in slow suspended skeins
Above their scrap of history,
Only an attitude remains:
Time has transfigured them into
Untruth. The stone fidelity
They hardly meant has come to be
Their final blazon, and to prove
Our almost-instinct almost true:
What will survive of us is love.
…………………….
……………………………..
the words stand beautifully on their own, but curiously the sculpture its based upon was in lewes priory before it was destroyed by Henry VIII… as incidentally was the amazingl Romanesque font in St Nicks, the one we all dance around at 5 Rhythms
its masterful, gives me goosebumps every time i read it
from 26th june (all these are old facebook posts!)
he he! mine was a childhood in the subdued hues of black and white, so as here, as always, i look mean, moody and magnificent! a subtle reinterpretation, regurgitation of clint eastwood?!
so far, spent morning strimming and a-sowing grass seed, encouraging the enemy(!) as the whole time spluttering with hayfever, but a majestic view out across the gorgeous, sparkling turquoise sea. tra la la
off to town now, for a dip? some table tennis? see Finn. low key, somewhere near meeting house cafe till 7ish if anyones passing… oh and prob a boogie later! hurrah x
a shameless ploy to encourage yet more birthday wishes, ya just can never have too many!… and of course! thank you so much for those so far. byeee lovelovelove xxx
………
thank you so much for all the marvelous birthday wishes from yesterday! lovely!
…awoke today in a mooching ponderous mood, foggy outside, thinking that of course it is the force of love blazing marvelously through our lives which is of most import, yes,
that and the way we deal with the maelstorm of emotions surrounding this, the pain, the jealousy… hmm how does that half remembered larkin poem go?
BUT, but, but, it is also the slow soft accrual of kindness, that is so fundamental, the unlooked for gentleness, the support from simple gestures, it is these that buoy us up through the years of hope and regret..
hmm the stone drip drip of stalactites in a limestone cave, or, a coral reef, all that florid colour and vitality! and also the coral, hard won skeletal form slowly softly accumulated across the centuries
..fades away to the usual mumble mutter pitter patter. off to sherbaileys camp later! tents and kids. ha x
God i loathe css!!! 2 hours to layout a simple box, i despair.. i broke the omerta of silence to announce that.. its not even coding, just tediously jostling things around for compulsive neat freaks,
yes i know it helps to think of it as a bunch of helium filled balloons floating off to the ceiling (which make your voice sound squeaky)
but for me it is wrestling the leviathan, it won’t do what i want. stomps foot petulantly.
its that inheritance thing, all about what your grannys uncle twice removed is doing, its worse than Romeo and Juliet, its worse than an albanian blood feud!!!