hilary mantel

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oh Hilary Mantel has died

i haven’t read much of her work, only wolf hall and bringing up the bodies, and never got far with the final part, yet such a beautiful writer

oh you know, historical fiction, rolls eyes, and the tudors are so over done

but, but, her Cromwell! part Machiavellian schemer, part bully boy thug, loyal, astonishingly honest and self actualised… bought to life in a style of lucid realism, interspersed with poetic reverie

one of the best drawn characters in all of fiction. genius. RIP

………..

read those books on the bus headed into brighton for a programming job, always 7:30 in the morning, rain, torpor, damp bodies squidged together on the top deck, groundation on in my headphones, nose in a book, happily elsewhere

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Andy: I still feel grateful that you gave me I think it was The Mirror and the Light on Audible x

Mary: Cromwell, a man of great principle, architect of our modern Parliament and villainised for his King’s marital whims. He is one of my historical heroes and I think that Hilary did a fine job of restoring his reputation. So glad she finished the trilogy even if I did struggle with the last one..

Kat: Wolf Hall is bloody brilliant!

Nicholas: Unroll thine eyes! Historical fiction is the best! Just finished all the Ken Follett Kingsbridge series and on the last Shardlake book now… Next up Mantell! Escape that broadens the mind instead of hijacking it like hot gospellers and papists (and Facebook)

equinox 22

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equinox blessings

i went for a walk up the cliffs this morning, the earth rich and still green, dew and the glistening, gossamer spool of spider skein.

after for a dunk in the ocean… bobbing far out to sea, forever suspended between the depth of sea beneath and the immensity of sky above. equilibrium

what buoys us up? surface tension? and that we too are much of water

turn to align my body perpendicular to the shore, nuzzled, then gently jostled by the sea current

you can feel the swell, the shore bound surge, wave ripples through length and limbs

world moves through us, as much as we move through the world

sea holds all colours, turned mournful, gently offering them up, this song of light

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enjoyed my 3 cards for the autumn, sage, spirit fox and hermit

leaves on the tree and the seasonal harmony of orange, russet and brown

unlikely to be a party tho! mores the pity, rather reflecting my slightly subdued, introspective mood

they all look directly out, even if the hermit only through his third eye

observed, gentle benign wisdom. mirrored back to the world

peacock feather for writing a book. genius! i want

think i saw some in the middle aisle of lidl t’other week?

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apart from that daughter been over, so in between busy and times, walks up to the long man and thrice around friston forest

anyroads… tranquility and autumnal balance for us all

gold

gold!

‘Gold!!!
Always believe in your soul’
an equally rainy day in cornwall, back in the 80’s, with my older sis
made me laugh anyway

things you find on your computer when your looking for important documents!
this just an old photo of a photo, the original snap must be a beaut, at mums somewhere, had to chop mum and younger sister out of this one as the light reflection meant you couldn’t see their faces

chutney

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Chutniiieeee! Tomato and Apple….. agonisingly, ecstatically yum!
first time i’ve ever made it! the secret ingredient ginger (not so secret now blabbermouth)
toms from the garden, a bag of apples from up the hill… the rest of the ingredients all from rummaging deep within the pantry
bung EVERYTHING in the pan and gently hubble and trouble boil away… eventually all was reduced to a state of primordial gloop… that wot the first amoeba clambered out from?
its texture sticky to the finger, colour kinda brown but with lashings of radioactive vermilion
as you can gather i’m proud of it…
it also required great poise to achieve a selfie balancing an apple on my head (William ‘kiss and’ Tell)
anyway had intended to give up on facebook… horribly last decade… at least i’ve spared you my poetry… but you know. CHUTNEY!
a Hindii word originally ‘to lick, or eat with appetite’… indeed!

Lammas

tom
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Lammas/Harvest blessings… right on cue the first tom to ruddy ripeness… tho this one seemingly so huge that it has, after einstein, warped the fabric of both time and space
must be such a bulge full world seeing thru the eyes of a fish? apols for another veg snap… guess august is always fruit and festies
yield of a different type… daughter has been moving out of her student house, a glut of clobber! where does it all come from? the trusty estate car fit to burst
guess that is what being a parent to kids in their twenties is often about… i can see my dad patiently and good humouredly helping me move for the umpteenth time…
lugging another lucky dip box: wizard cape, curios, futile gee gaws and a hoard of books. thanks dad!
life in all its rhythms and cycles

Sarah: Oooh that’s goodMine completely failed this year 😟no tomatoes 🍅

oh thats a shame… for me, most years, the only thing that gives a decent harvest… slugs and snails don’t seem even remotely keen on them! xx

Sarah: only thing I’ve managed so far this year is radish’s!Think it was v wet , then v hot, now v wet !

snozzcumber

snozzcumber
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Snozzcumber! that GREW in the garden!!
probs shouldn’t be quite so suprised as i planted it… but miracle of a slug dodger
i’ve named this one wilson… wilson pick-itt
Update
alas poor wilson is no more…. sunday morning yoga followed by courgette and sunshine… a great start to the day

couldn’t wait till the midnight hour tho… too peckish

Sigh … Since festie I have clearly eschewed the use of clothes… So unspiritual and a symbol of capitalist oppression… Sky clad in.B&Q

buddhafield

fire!
clarissa
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heart drenched with love, back from buddhafield, my slightly belated, a little bit exhausted, waffle appreciation post for the yearly lush bubble of buddha… soul nourished, mind frazzled yet fizzed, pure exuberance
so good to see friends with their babies and toddlers, a new generation, to meet again after the grueling covid palaver
beautiful pics from cc, as my phone turned off, thanks lovely x

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‘spring water flowing
through a meadow and the shadows of clouds
passing over the hills and the ground
where we stand in the tremble of thought
taking the vast outside into ourselves.’
from billy collins: directions

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we the bright shining ones
a nighttime visit to the crew tent filling thermos flask with barleycup, about to head to the dance tent for a euphoric footstomping psytrance rave
ah buddhafield the only time ‘barley cup and rave’ sit congruently within the same sentence
else:
emerging from a devotional puja to the sumptuous colours and harmony of an epic sunset
lounging in the shade in a hammock, amongst the oaks and silver birches in the glade… before, eek, quick stepping up to the front gate, stewards hat on, to help out with the van fire!
singing with gleeful but tuneless gusto buried within the brethern of the bass section… snoozing in the dharma parlor
in a ‘work that reconnects’ workshop, grieving the loss of species and habitat, then lurching into the middle of a comedy yoga skit out on the village green
these things, and yes, a lot of dancing! i so love to dance… to drums after the rituals, live music in small world, or to the bedlam cacophony in the recycling / drum and bass tent
gleeful juxtaposition… each minutiae but a fractal of the whole… or vice versa?! a summoning

hare
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i tend to wonder, wander, wind blown thistledown, seeds of the heart, going whither my feet roam… join a group, then drift away… trying to stay within the field, the aura of grace and flow… the minute i ‘want’ something/somebody the energy seeps away
trust that when i acknowledge the immediacy, the intimacy of feeling… then all is fine, not to say flippin’ gorgeous
it helps knowing so many people, disparate down the years, else just to turn around and share a few noodlin’ words with your neighbour
the golden thread of hare magic, motif, woven through the whole festival
Alala’s heartfelt recitation of a poem from memory
the divine transcendence of a hug from a stranger, a lover, stopped still for eternity halfway across the field… green gold, gold green… twixt nettles and the hare
an impromptu 5 minute sing-a-along and boogie in a queue for crew food
chanting kirtans around the fire as the moon rises and the night time stars wheel serenely overhead

parking
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my stewarding mostly consisted of meandering between the different steward positions, checking how everyone was getting on
each a Galapagos island of conversation, chewing the breeze(?), sure, a 5 minute of perfunctory ‘hows the shift going’ which swiftly lurches in ANY beautiful and random direction:
‘vipassana and the myth kitty of each individual, unique yet eternal soul’
‘whats your favourite flavour and colour of ice lolly?’
‘the spirit essence of our huge ancient beech tree’
‘the mores, foibles and manners of the 90’s crusties squat rave scene’
‘the beauty and exquisite precision of logical thought’
‘roll over on your back, kick your legs in the air, upturned turtle yoga!’
i always love stewarding and the whole steward team… most of it’s loafing about nattering to passers by…
else laconically, on the walkie talkie, in best late night radio dj voice issuing shift advice ‘watch out for maroon motors… they always give most trouble. over’
yet occasionally something festival important happens, focus, reset: function… ‘how can i help?’
part of the joy of the steward crew is that often their fresh to the whole experience
many of them the same age as my kids… i’m occasionally pondering what does it mean to become an elder? if not me… if not us… then who? if not now then when?
a slow gradual transition, settlling down into this, suprisingly comforting, notion
what are the energies and the postures that i wish to model?
wisdom. open hearted kindness. embody boldness… that man can be a bedraggled, florid extravaganza! that world is both beautiful and often funny? that to sing and dance and chat together is astonishing, we are enough
all of that and stubborn more
i see too many folk, usually young men, wandering around on their own, bewildered on the fringes… these kindred… all beings are welcome, all included… some fierce yet protective dharmaparla spirit
Feet Rooted in the earth, Rose Gold Rising, Arms Aloft, White Gold tumbling down… these energies to spill out from the heart, onto this land or into anothers arms… echo echo the same
x
as always to clutch at things with a splodge of words, acknowledge the intangible, the various… breathe

buddha
buddha

Jonnyfen: Beautiful words man! x

thanks lovely, hope to see you there next year x

Clarissa: Love this! Takes you right back there reading these beautiful words 😍

Dinnae neglect nor forget the glorious pics too! Xx

Saoirse: Joy beyond joy, deep immersion in the moment. Blissful and radiant .

Graeme: Summation.It was a great pleasure working with you once again Richard.These words deepen a tangible gratitude for this gift we share.Ty 🙏😊🕉💖🌌⛺🔥

Yes. Ditto. Hugely enjoyed reconnecting with you, Emma and all the team. Having a role, some responsibilities… however fluffy and occasionally flakey… helps anchor the experience. In a warm, supportive, rich and stimulating environment we can all flourish… and become more who we truly are… blessings on your onward journey! xx

We be beautiful!

Sam: Was lovely to see you again Richard 😌💜🕉

You too bro! Tho, ha, that ‘neuro-bleak-batter-core’ was a dismal racket! Dunno how Cleo and Ella tolerated it… Each to their own! Xx

Ok ok secretly I loved it… Life isn’t always folk noodlin and bird song!

Sam: haha 😂 everybody loves a cheeky bit of neuro 🤓Hope you got home alright bro & are adjusting back to whatever this normal stuff is 😳😂👌 x

Ha ha… Soul is always exultant, yet mind frequently dingy and body just craves a ferocious beat!… Neuro deffo has its place … All good here, tho stopping by Saintsburys on way back from a run, smiles, let alone hugs in drastic short supply… Wishing ya ease for your transition xx

RP: Ooh, like the sound of that!

Cleo: Lovely to see you Richard! Hope you having a wonderful time back by your coast ❤️ big love xx

Cleo! thanks m’dear… all pleasantly slow and gentle back in seaside sussex… today will toodle along to stanmer organics… permaculture, tea and a boogie…. adventures continueloved your warmth and beautiful energy at the festie… hope life flows sweetly with you! hug xxx

Cleo: sounds wonderful and i am glad to here your adventure continues 🥰 lovely to see you again, the kindest soul and maybe the seaside will call us together someday – see you on the coastline✨🌊

thanks… sweeet xxx