Category: audio

another day soused in lucid sunshine, whilst doing my morning pages, ploughing beneath the lines, through the trough and sloth of thought
book poised at a certain angle, i can see the ink glisten as it gushes forth onto the page
a tantalising scintilla, then it is dry, from flow to ridgid certainty
i love writing with an ink pen… monk in his scriptorium… such a different process to hen pecking each letter on a keyboard… his nibs, snickety scalpel steel
mine is much battered, a quid from W H Smiths (W H Audens?!)… i usually write in purple ink, but black, holds all colours
the miniscule twitch and creep of muscles in the hand, a perfection of poise and pressure, as tho embroidering elaborate monograms on a silk handkerchief… even if it looks like spider spool scribble!
a miraculous process, crab wise scuttle across the page (remember to breathe!), for what? spiteful, lazy embittered thoughts, gripes and glum grumbles
ha! i love the glamorous squandering
life is ease and grace, surfing the crest of the present, endless becomming, this extraordinary and rare privilege of being alive! all joined up
bart simpson ate my shorts
bart simpson ate my shorts
bart simpson ate my shorts
dwell forever in love
dwell forever in love

Oh and important only to my obstinate pedantic brain… The typed words are what’s written on the paper and exactly one side of A4! x

….
to dianne:
ha! why should frank be spared my warblings? thank the kids for their impeccable tolerance… i think it helps being one step removed, whenever Finn and S see me writing something, theres always much eye rolling and an involuntary wince poor lambs how they suffer
as for the colour scheme, kudos to my interior design consultant xx

oh and just back from gathering elder blossoms and a sea swim… lush day here! x

….
to iain:
thanks, good to hear from ya… embrace the gobbledy gook, however it comes… obvious ideas around process rather than result, ink pens do make us think different
i’m somewhat fascinated by the whole shebang…one huge strand of our thoughts are in words, which are sounds we make with our mouths, with mutually agreed meanings, except instead we create them with our subtle finger muscles and ink on paper, these scribbles are then read somewhere else in time and space, the sense summon spoken aloud in our heads… it’s plain beautiful bonkers!
i read your comment in the tone of your voice… even tho i probs haven’t seen you in 10 years
anyway hope all be glorious, enjoy the unexpected boon of furlough… time to do what you want for yourself xx

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to alex:
Wow, are pens right and left handed?? In my privilege I had no idea!… Dexterous and sinister… Weirdly was going to say that occasionally I write one side left handed to limber up an unused part of my mind, thoughts flow differently then… Love to ya lefty xx

Ha! Of course, hand trailing rather than leading… Smudge blots are beautiful (if not very legible) hug right back at ya darling xx

oh and if you ever get the chance have a look at leonardos note books… they are simply amazing! mostly for the chaotic tumble of ideas and extraordinary sketches… but also, as most likely a leftie, the writing is right to left mirror writing! xx

https://www.vam.ac.uk/articles/leonardo-da-vincis-notebooks

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to Luna:
Loooona! yes! he’s a cornish piskie, from polperro… he was sitting (dancing) on my shelf this morning and felt for his playful energy… when i bought him down, i thought of his twin… and you… of sitting on the battlements of jaisalmere with those curious kids… enchanting
hope you, the ‘family’ and your little one (possibly not so little now!?) are flourishing. Love xxx …. oh and obvs come visit the south coast if ever your over in britain! x

Crazy portu-geezers, camels, desert, fires beneath the huge looming stars, a bewildering, wonderful, unforgettable combo! Xx

yoga poses i’m enjoying at the mo (a short series, almost certainly of 1)
tree pose (Vrksasana)… i’ve always considered myself to be reasonably rubbish at balance poses, but by doing yoga more in the morning rather than much later at classes in the evening, i don’t fall over as much!
gravity is less early in the day q.e.d… actually i always just knew it was you buffoons putting me off with your inept teeter tootter toppling! (oops!)
things i like about tree pose… well, i always imagine i’m some sort of mature majestic beech, slender, tall, smooth grey skin trunk (fagus fagus! and i was fagin in the caves)
gotta love the flow of tree energy… we be ents… tweaking a Reiki(?) meditaion… in the pose focus attention on the hara, just below the belly button, all weight flowing down the stationary leg
then imagine roots burst forth from the foot, then wriggle down into the ground
slowly these roots start to absorb energy up from the earth mother… red gold, gold red… oozing upwards to suffuse the body
next as the arms waft aloft, stretch, reach to the heavens, white light flows down from the heavenly father, through the crown chakra…
these 2 energies blend and merge in the heart, we shimmer tantalise with light
….try not to fall over
…………………………………………
inevitably getting into pose, before the 5 second timer on my computer camera was a dash… watch da birdie!
and i much prefered just goofing about!
sigh signalling virtue again! tis a hobby during lockdown

ooh meditated in the back yard this morning… things to do in lockdown part 777… seedlings outside for ‘toughening’ up… tis the season of the frisson of al fresco, all our usual practices receive the spur of excitement of being beneath sky
by a herculean effort have updated my meditation status… from sporadic to… fanfare… erratic!
may well look as tho i’m grumpily snoozing in a deck chair… but occasional waves of the golden nectar of ambrosial bliss… lots of pondering what to put in the washing machine …socks!… thinking those churruping sparows are exceedingly LOUD… usual meddlesome mind… meditation is super, do give it a whirl, if you don’t already… soothing and pleasantly incremental… just keep plodding along… nothing to get right… nowhere else to be… nothing to see here
change is inevitable, to open eyes to the nettle patch rather than the usual buddha
bit o’metta bhavna, some prising of chakras open… bish bash bosh om shanti!

obligatory ‘normal people’ post, yes, i know everybody has reccommended it, but felt to add my small pebble of praise to the pile… if you haven’t already… watch it… one of the best things on telly in a while
finally finished it last night, didn’t feel the need to rush
inevitably a bit of a soap opera tear jerker (i blub easily) about attractive yet troubled young folk
BUT… beautifully filumed, it looks amazing, the irish accents are familiar, and the mannerisms even more so, fab music, superb direction… all of which makes space for and holds the luminous performances of the 2 main protagonists
nuanced, subtle, mercurial, vulnerable and compelling… feels real x

normal people

ooh by a pleasant congruence laura marling picks the music on whats probs my fave Radio show
… was thinking i should try to share things i like, just to dilute the slew of selfies?
this mix is almost lounge jazz… Roberta Flak, Tom Waits, Joni Mitchell and many others i’ve never heard before…
i think dad would have liked this… the ambience reminded me of being a teenager loafing around in the armchairs after sunday lunch… inevitably picked up his taste for mournful female vocals
sherbailey has long cancelled her spotify, so i listen to a fair bit of radio, tho only ever on catch up
the chillest show is brill, as it’s all mellow music, most of it frightfully modern… phil taggart, northern irelands finest (and a brighton resident) makes me laugh.
I’ve loved mz marlings stuff all the way back to ‘alas i cannot swim’… talent.

laura marling mix

Spirulina the virulent! basically radioactive pond slobber… with possibly a higher iq and certainly oodles more compassion than any member of the government
we influencers like to share grub snaps of our glamorous lifestyles… breakfast with my usual post yoga morning glow
daughter has got me into overnight oats… cold soggy porridge… proper ballast… without any of the irksome waiting around for it to cook and scraping cement off the pot washing up… i’m a busy man!
this rendition has chia seeds, hemp hearts and my own home made nettle powder… strawbs, banana and peanut butter
what does it taste like? best you don’t ask! i love the taste of fresh nettles, but once dried they smell like boiled underpants
as for spirulina, i am trying to reside in a field of non judgemental open presence… ommm… possibly not nommm
just because you imagine it makes you gag doesn’t mean it lacks virtue for your taste buds
‘blessings on the coaxing of the golden light of the sun, the nurturing warmth of mother earth, the softness of rain, the exuberant gusts of wind… harmony’
tally ho tings to do… have a righteous beautiful day! x

agoraphobic? nope not me, my heart yearns for the jostle, to be heave pressed within a throng of strangers, crowd held, the sheer sensual overwhelm, lost in a tide of hearts and fellows.
agoraphilliac? is that a thing
agoraphobia… my mind always stutter catches on the word, mostly as, when i was young, i thought it was aggrophobia (and indeed i am loathe to be around aggro!) and mouth mangled the word as such
actually theres a herd of words i mispronounce, yesterday i got hyperbole wrong, again, ha, i like it when i open my mouth and florid gunk gibberishes forth! word glut
as a youth i was a dismal bookworm, consequently i read words seldom uttered …sacred words that are forbidden to be spoken! else words that twister tongue cannot be pronounced
agoraphobia… fear of open spaces? actually fear of public spaces, a subtle difference, as the root etymology of the word is agora, the greek market place
basically every time i say it i imagine myself hanging out in a groovy toga and natty sandles… oh you know fist bumping plato, oiled up naked wrestling with aristotle, discussing quadratic equations with helen of troy, helping her with an lash trapped in her eye
oops i’ve digressed, was there a point? yes! i’m missing people
one of my ideal wednesdays would be ooh… lunchtime drop in meditation in the buddhist center, serene calm of the shrine room, the subtle shift of light, cloud shadows dappled from the skylight above, the summoning ring of singing bowl, open eyes to peer into the smile of the buddha
then going for coffee with a friend, gabble natter of all that is possible… peeling away for a leisurely jaunt through the North Laine, peering at all the beautiful people… clattering accidentally into a pal, long unseen, whilst hunting for mung beans in infinity foods, we hug, then swap sweet deets of forthcoming summer festies
sunset on the beach, later its a plod up the hill to dance, the ancient church of St Nicks, mad dervish whirl, howl, before subsiding into stillness… on the bus home, jolloping along the coat road, gawping at the moonlit ocean, the only other passengers 4 young efl students … who get off somewhere in the wild nether, never nowhere of peacehaven
aw, you know, NORMAL life, the thrills and pleasure of civic existence! … peeps, known, and strangers, i miss you!
spiel spool gently unravelling into words, putting off doing something more productive, like programming, or yoga… this the timbre and rhythm of lockdown daze x