Meteorite!!! look we found a smidgin of a comet! (well hanna did) meandering for millenia in the curious depths of darkest space… no thing piled upon nothing then to furious glorious fireball down upon the earth meteorites usually bring rogue strains of dna, else other worldly metals, this one has an eerie, primordial magnetism, gyrating, then spinning to face sirius, the dog star also its astonishingly light! as tho attuned to the universes heart chakra vibration most amazing of all, where it was discovered… in the oven … as tho it had been there for millenia… or at least a month yes. verily, it shall be called spud-nik
tutenkhamun had a dagger made from the iron from a meteorite… at the time this was created mankind did not have the ability to smelt iron
Glitter-gasm! It’s Mark Bolans Scarecrow Grandad!! slowly regenerating after a bonkers fun weekend ‘commuting’ to bimble these the only photos i managed to take… and a lovely one of daughter on downs (just so i don’t appear too solipsistic) face paint by heather, took several ingots worth to gild my beatiful and wrinkled visage particularly after a night of bamboozle boogie-ing till a most crepuscular dawn thanks to all the various posses that adopted me, the immense blue of the sky above, the musicians, the golden yellow fields, friends old …and new and to all those that funky mosh flamencoed with me down the front. gr-oo-ooooo-vy your beautiful! x
‘Au Revoir’, ‘Merci’, i pedal wallow around the corner there to be greeted by a looming huge impossible wall of BOAT! ferry to france! perched high above on the prow, a gaggle of chirruping french school kids i could see up their nostrils, if i but had a telescope! de caprio and winslett squeezed awkwardly betwixt and between them windmilling arms in farewell, channeling obelix, ever gallic, i holler ‘Au Secour, Zut Alors!’ after this entente cordial, its onwards to seaford head, bike path across the marshlands, hugging the bepebbled crescent swoop of the bay full power… foot to the floor …and then, it being a bike, another foot to the floor… repeat! … and once there, why to plunge into the briney blue! jostled by choppiness, a few swift strokes, out deeper, the rhythmic, joyful pummel pulse of waves floating on my back, suspended beneath blue and above blue, womb speck midst the immense amniotic ocean alone? mind chides, impossible to be forlorn, when we are one with the oneness (alledgedly) waaaaaggh late for work, brouhaha flounder ashore through the shallows, first fish on land … and there, why my thermos cup of coffee toppled over in the breeze, glug glugged away into the dry sand alone with the oneness
back from another blissed out ‘humdrum’ buddhafield… well mostly, after a week in the field, allowing the energy, the warmth to slowly sift, then settle… before, hopefully, taking the joy in my heart, stone plonk pond rippled, out into the wider world beyond favourite buddhafield moment? hmm maybe the evening after the festival had finished! skiddadled to my sisters to pick up lovely daughter, this year, a gentle transition, snoozing in a hammock in the shade next to the pool early eve i took crumble, the dawg, for a stroll up the hill, high summer, straggled and woeful bedraggled in the hedgerows, the familiar silhouette of oak, of ash, beneath which the dappled purples of mallows, thistles, the yellow of groundsel, this the daisy age, white trumpets of bind weed full fluted in flower, wound about them, entwined, the bramble briar rose up above, swallows and martens swoop stitch the blue colour of the sky i stopped, the path wound onwards, this the cusp of evening, a field of corn, ears plump to the stalk, burnished rose golden by the light of the setting sun the full moon (nearly!) sailed jauntily above the trees, just as the sun, burdened, weighted down by the pomp cavalcade of its own majesty, wallowed heavily beneath the horizon… mother earth, father sky, brother sun, sister moon fulcrum, a harmonious tidal turning
audio of text
i pondered long on what? on nothing? on dad? and, of course, also the boon bounty of the previous week of the strong, sweet gentleness of hugs, with friends, with strangers, the long loiter in connection, snuggling up for profound spiritual chats by the fireside, gabbled laughter over food, else irreverent cackling up by the gate! meetings with long lost friends, a soft openining to new ones dancing, singing, mantras, a childhood game of stuck in the mud, talks on activism and buddhism, tai chi, chai, flirting, singing, dancing! of work, the hodge podge bundle of stress i became whilst managing the sunday afternoon going home shift ‘yes i appreciate that your child is crying, that you must hoik, that huge heavy bell tent up the precipitous slope, but no, i am sorry, i cannot authorise you to drive onto site’ then again i loved driving the super mario cart buggy jeep about the site, one hand on mahogany steering wheel, elbow out the window, floppy ermintrude hat, only 2nd gear, 4th and reverse! boogie woogie wonderland! oops what was i saying? cheerful in the knowledge no one will have bothered to decipher thus far! fun to write!
audio of text
unravelling, the undulating, to feel in my body, the coils of this, some small portion of the huge green earth serpent, rising up, her energy coursing throughout the land gentle, coiled spirals a myriad scales, all sizes, all colours, irridescent, yet summoning to a singular harmony… vibrant, tara, heart chakra green cycles of expansion, followed by those of contraction, falling to a dwindle, then rising to exalt! harrowing followed by abundance. pulsation, rhythm pulled inside out to languish in this the radiant beauty of the realm of form… falling to stillness, beneath there is always a ringing so to take each others hand… and dance singing together with the ancestors on this our land slowlty turn and head for home ‘manna gonna come down, manna gonna come down, manna gonna come down, manna g-o-nnnnna make us strong’ x
i’ve just joined the green party! come on in the waters lovely!… tho i expect, as often the case with pond life, may prove somewhat lurid green algae hued £31 a year fully waged, £10 low waged, bargain it’s actually somewhat of a suprise to me that i’m not a member already (never been of any particular party) despite campaigning for the greens for my mate henners in the vauxhall byelection back in very early 90’s, that was a hoot, and first green ever to retain the deposit! like many progressives in this country turned off politics primarily as its a bit crap always being on the losing side… bludgeoned by the repressive hegemony of the right ever since i can remember! tho obv relative affluence has shielded me from the worst of it anyway being positive i think the green party is ideal for me… single issue focused on the climate change … the juggernaut hurtling towards human civilisation, yet also with the sense of an overview, whilst realising the importance of, and even cherishing connectedness i have immense respect for local mp (sadly not my mp) caroline lucas… who is to my mind: passionate, dignified and pragmatic… and yeah i appreciate its easier when your the only mp and would struggle to schism with yourself like everyone i’ve been thinking about politics a lot since the referendum… the green party is the one i have most congruence with, it concurs with many (but not all) aspects of my identity in that i am progressive, white, english, middle class, middle aged, graduate… which is very much not the same as saying you need to be any of these things to support the green party truth be told, had the world, my world, stayed the same as the 1970’s Surrey one i grew up in, then i would quite happily have been a liberal, Orange is a great colour, wandered around well meaning in my socks and sandals, supporting anyone who is to the left of the tories… the referendum result is to my eye a disaster, i feel angry and hurt about it, but yeah, need to move on, its just damaging and exhausting In May the tories have found one of the few people in their camp who will pull the trigger and have no scruples about it yeuchhhh! I can’t imagine there will be an election for 3 years, Scotland will leave, and Rump Britain will be, if possible, more Right wing than ever to a large extent its my kids generation who will have to find their way through the mess… sorry my main concern, like many folk, is the rise of a populist ‘working class’ right wing movement… i would dearly love to see a strong left wing alternative to that… wish corbyn well with it… for various reasons, i don’t feel thats my fight… somewhat concerned by my ability to ‘other’ those who don’t agree or are different to me… particularly the white working class… it goes back to school… we should all be mindful of those tendencies its importance to acknowledge the limitations and bias in our own position, yet still say what we feel to be true permaculture, yoga, buddhism, ecstatic dance, hugging, singing… will these save the world? probably not, depending on your perspective, i doubt if you’ve grown up in the shanty towns of the developing world you’d think that, or for that matter many parts of britain away from the luxury of the cozy cocoon of brighton but these things are a lot of fun and might, if we’re mindfull and try to remain open and optimistic, actually do some good valueing words (whilst misspelling valuing!) , i’m not a big fan of slogans, ha, my fave from the student demos when i was young was the gay rights one ‘we’re up, we’re out, we’re not going shopping!’ anyway thats enough of politics from me… said… as always… exactly what you’d expect me to say… and somewhat long windedly but yeah ‘see you on the barricades’… i’ll be wearing glitter and waving a flower and a dayglo buddha, and probably won’t last long, but see you on the barricades https://my.greenparty.org.uk/civicrm/membership/joining
ha! meanwhile in sleepy devon, midst all the turmoil, the gastropod faction is taking over! just got a very sorry looking ‘damaged’ late birthday card from my kid sis, with an accompanying official Royal Mail apology letter “…slugs and snails still occasionally manage to creep into the apertures, fall down into the box and start eating the glue/adhesive on the stamps and envelopes… i am sorry for any problems caused by this unusual ‘tampering’ and while…” they’re coming for us! and they’re eating our words, nibbling through our notions, yes i say eating our wor..
RIP was only talking about him with mum and dad the other day, they saw the young ali train in ghana back in 64… the year before i was born… wowsers he was their, already with a burgeoning interest in pan african and civil rights issues… (thanks flaps for showing me the lrb article, pic probs nigeria on same trip) oh and as someone else pointed out watch ‘when we were kings’, a fascinating, beautiful film… in his pomp such a gabble and flamboyant swagger! okey doke tweed jacket costume on… wedding bound xxx
eu referendum polling card belly flopped through the letterbox this morning i shall be voting to remain not (of course!) for specifically rational reasons, tho probably some of those exist, in brief, i am passionately pro european, having been fortunate enough to live in various countries in europe, wish to do so again and would like my kids to have that wonderful opportunity too furthermore i love the fact that folk from other countries can come and live and work here, French, German, Spanish, Portugese, Polish, Czech, Lithuanians etc… exotic polyglot cultural bamboozlement! they’ve bought so much vibrancy and fun to the frequently staid british culture and greatly enriched my life …. and yes i appreciate that the referendum is not specifically about this…. also that the european union is profoundly flawed, that it innately panders to vested corporate interests but hey ho, what if we do opt out as murdoch and so many others on the ultra right wish us to do? which is worse? the eu or the abhorrent evil of this current conservative government… archetype of all the worst aspects of crony capitalism not much of a choice in truth! sadly i don’t expect to see a checkbox for ‘click here for socialist utopia’ on the ballot form disregarding cameron, osborne and their constant evil disgusting fear mongering, both the greens and the labour party are in favour of remaining … politico/economic issues aside, i personally feel it is also a battle of stories…. yeah, yeah the media feeds us so much of that old person stodge ‘britain, island nation, once was great, blah blah’… doubt that was ever true! i live on the coast, if i go up to the cliffs on a clear night, grok at the abundant majesty of the stars… then, yes, see somewhere in the distance the orange neon glow of the lights of france! .. turn the other way, can i see London? nope just the blooming incinerator (this may not be strictly true, but round the coast a bit, you can see France from up by hastings castle). the channel should be seen as something that connects, not something that divides, trade in the ancient world was by sea the coast has always been an abundant realm of edge, with trade comes ideas, knowledge, culture… pizza … and philosophy many of my ancestors came from over yonder there, a mongrel ancestry is always healthier, more interesting … and our beautiful language? one which i take such delight in mangling! why we are blessed with twin strands in its very dna, anything in english can be said in words from either a brusque germanic tradition or using the waftier gabble of latinate language… groovy! I would wish that our society, rather than being insular, inward looking, should face outwards, have a generous confidence in itself… to be welcoming to others, accepting of difference … and yes, this should be true both with our european neighbours and the refugees and migrants camped on the doorstep… oops i seem to have meandered off piste… nothing new there, nuff said… i’ll be voting to stay
season of the nettle… early morning (before work) foray up the hillside to snip some stingers! sacred to mars, robust and bristling with vigour, midst the sweet succulence of spring… Red with Iron, they always flourish on disturbed ground… and love being around man… apparently the Romans brought them over… along with the sweet chestnut can just see them trudging up Watling Street, through puddles, whilst munching on a nettle sandwich… ‘oi spartacus, youv’e got spinach, no nettle, stuck between your teeth… again’ … off to grapple with some celts (‘the long and winding woad!’) anyway, midst the early morning dew i assumed the appropriate stance, beat my chest three times …. then gave them the finger… they appreciate such theatrical bawdiness donned the sacred gauntlet, unsheathed the ceremonial knife (marigolds and blunt rusty scissors) and clipped away! only the toppest freshest tips… a few years back i inflicted nettle soup on the kids and greta… gruel… so today its gonna be penne with nettle and walnut pesto washed down with a swig of whiskey (doesn’t count if its straight from the bottle)… and some montezuma chilli chocolate. kinda yum! x
