olga da polga! the guinea pig with a dramatic flair and a penchant for elaborating almost everything many guffaws as a child… and in turn reading them to my kids oh and he wrote paddington too… RIP
ha! born to everyones suprise on ants birthday, tittlemouses oedipal relationship with his mother founded a dynasty, before being banished to live out his days munching grass in grannys park… sounds like something out of caligula … but the guineas were fab! x
happy solstice! may fire and passion blaze forever in your hearts … and if your british, wear red knickers on your head and prance around an ancient stone circle at dawn (again) just back from a 5Rhythms crew overnight adventure jaunt to the stones how was stonehenge? bizarre, motley, chaotic and really rather wonderful! yes of course everybody and their grandmother was there, waving there phones in the air (ever on trend i managed 6 grainy snaps) in the dark hours before dawn too many geezers meandering… but buried within it all, why firstly the stones themselves, ancient, warm, soft and pulsating, freckled with lichen, fluffy with moss giving back all the lush heat of the day, and yes some of the drumming was incessant and tedious… but then for an hour, lost midst the supple gyre of looping rhythms, arms flung high to the dark night sky, ullulating to the sarsen stones looming large overhead, together later dancing up the sun with the krishnas, whilst everyone peers like meerkats, waiting awaiting away to the east and finally a shared moment at the altar stone… a circle of us, hands touching, forehead softly nestled to the rock… exhausted, remembering, tears on my cheek… fare well, dwell long beloved soul in these the summer lands of the spirit a wordless hug with a soft, beautiful stranger ha! and the voyage there and back, frazzled in arundel tea rooms … stone circles are amazing… four and a half thousand years! our land, all of us, wherever we are from, a privilege and a treat to be amongst them right off to dance… waagh
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ha! i wish, sadly not, nor is it hand woven by dryads, from spider skein under the lambent light of the beltane fool moon? no, you know me a vision in lurid polyester and cheap nylons… my soul is 100% acrylic… charity shop find some years back xx
Calling out to hungry hearts Everywhere through endless time You who wander, you who thirst I offer you this bodhi mind. Calling out to hungry spirits Everywhere through endless time Calling out to hungry hearts All the lost and left behind Gather round and share this meal Your joy and your sorrow I make mine. ………………….
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listened to this song this morning just as the sun rose glorious, peeking out from midst its bed of clouds solace to all hearts swollen with sorrow… we are most human burdened with our yearning
sing the thoughts that conjure this beautiful world into being give thanks, last day(s)… pass gentle through these gates of sweet nectar xxx
!*!!**! pop!corn! !*!!**! life of a freelancer working from home, difficult bug to tinker with? deadline looming? clearly now is the opportune moment to ‘cook’ a huge vat of the stuff i find it hugely soothing, peering into the pot, wagering on which of the kernels will be next to explode… you! no you!! something cosmologically calming, like the birth of the universe, random fluctuations within the energy field? else the more mundane wallop and ricochet of a star exploding… pinball wizard! its the cornucopia, abundance overflowing, porridge pot from the fairy story of yore and then you get to gorge guzzle the stuff!!… plump puffed up polystyene… huge mouthfulls, munching on solid air!
‘moon and a brace of apes’… monkey mind magus, beginnings, channeling spirit from the heavens to earth… was reading a tarot tome earlier! snap one of joes from spain back in november, cabo de gata da barbary apes x
sun sparkle on sea, one of my favourite things… pic a mere frivolity of gloom, essence remains cheerfully subtle and elusive i love the way light dissolves in water, yet also, reflects in kisses as we crawl out from under the burden of days.. been both happily seasonally busy yet quiet and, like many, not feeling to say so much oh, but also my sock is in their somewhere, got kersploshed in a puddle, then made a bid for freedom and jumped in the sea! there it lurks, where the jellyfish spawn… both odious and odorous… swim well deeply darned one x
ghost boat before seaford head morning sea fog, whispering of baffle and blurr, doubt and nothingness earlier the world suffused with a warm, washed out apricot glow, now faded to a wraith like clamminess mist, pearl moistening every spiders web a realm fungal furred, rot and cankour, yet gorse flowers still tweet strident yellow, coconut ponged most branches are bare, crenullated with stone green lichen crisps, brittle as undersea coral season for softening, of surrender to the earth, take us down gentle into this, our darkness
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ah do love a breakfast poetic blather! on the way home, emerging from the murk, a fishing boat languishing just off mooring, ha, blasting out christmas tunes, hackneyed, but bobbing in the fog suprisingly jaunt joyful
wrote one side of morning pages left handed today, crab scuttle etching… a curious process, feeling that this my alien hand doesn’t belong to ‘me’… to escher mbe? you can almost sense the grapple battle for control twixt ego and whom? mute, secret sharer a twitch, when the ‘usual I’ has the upper hand, it falls apart, hand wrench arches in the wrong direction… d’oh bother blather but allow the process and a curious hypnotic rhythmic flow begins… automatic, we know what to do …and the words, are they any different? dunno, can’t read the illegible ink blot scrawl looking out the window, world appears shimmering, the background to a tarot card, a slight slippage? mythic realm ever at our elbow da vinci the invincible anyway summon daughter from her slumbers, admire the red glow of rolled plasticine clouds.. sizzle mushrooms, pepper, tomatoes, garlic what are words on the page anyway? tongue convolutions to not make a sound, words that crave connection, synapse fire flare, ink deluge i’ve typed all this left handed, sense adandonned, suspect i’m incorrigible bored, ha, doncha know
