This weekend I'm going to revisit a series of small experiments started in 'The Wildering.' The goal is to experience and report on the comfort (the feeling of being an animal in a natural environment) and discomfort (being separated from wildness by many resistant layers) that is generally unfelt in nature.
Life two - The Orangutan
Fleapicking family sample canopes
Tree to tree orange nearmen swoop
An elevated life
Mid-scratch
Whipcrack the bullet matriarchal strikes
Farewell heart of darkness baby ape -
Hello cage
Eon interred through gilded bars
Boiling point reached
Seize the day the padlock left
Ajar
Gory revenge upon the gaolers
Then free
Family swooping relived in riotous ecstacy
An easy target
Police round from manhattan rooftop
Dying breaths easy - to the jungle brain retreats
This is the second in a series about reincarnation. The first death was a barnacle, reincarnated above as an orangutan. Where to next? All suggestions welcome...
I was glad to write the intro to this article, about John's foray to the Sahara.
Keep your eyes open for the Sink/Swim project...
Uncommon Ideals scoops two more gongs (best cinematography, best short)!
The full list of awards thus far are:
Much as I appreciate the humour of the London Underground staff, I don't think we really have much choice in this matter.
Digging this board out of the rack was like finding an old friend. It's a double-stringer 9'4 dain thomas made for himself and still the most uncompromising heavy, flat mal I've ridden.
It takes me back to a pretty golden spell, surfing every day with a group of great people in nsw. I forgot how much this board influenced the way I ride longboards, it's a radical shape with timeless forward trim. Amongst the little peelers at dawn, it flew.
Board artwork by: T Mountain-lion
Book by: if you don't know, now you know.
Henry. On a quest for salvation?
Little Heart
Take my steps, for now my stride is four of yours
And have my eyes, though they be not clear
Take my paws, little hand, through doors to thickets tall
We'll run together, no need to fear a fall
For my month is your minute, my year your hour
Dear is the love for you in its power
And in the heart it will not falter, never fail
Though the cries bawl, the tears be shed, the babe will wail
Just sit upon broad shoulders, watch the world skip by so slow
And cry, for each of us forgets the falling joy inside a tear
You need not worry: know the world can hear
Blessed boy, so dear, little heart be near.
Rare Hearts
If I put my hand in your hand we can dance
Through forest oaks, out across the sand
Palm to palm through the midnight wood
Between the roots of an oak we stood
Then we laughed at the march of the clock
Warm in the hearth of together's stock
Moonlit waltz cross the silent sea
Endless the dance of you and me
On London rivers, in lisbon squares
Through city lights our footfall bare
Then slower spin the dancing pair
Caught in their web of invisible care
Slower, softer still, rare hearts
Slower, softer still, rare hearts
Now the starting gun, gladness named
The souls of the dancers are one and the same
Forever here forward will the waltz remain
Beauty in the steps, magic the refrain
One of my favourite short books, now online.
We got to get back to making things...
My extraordinarily talented sister, Sophie, author of After the Snow.
Keep an eye on her here.
(After William Golding's dreams of hanging)
Downbeat, tempo down
Crunching shards
Fake frown
Under false light
Of magnolia shawls
How it dawdles and palls
Tempus Fugit
From fugitive strands
Badly lit
Ropes of pearl beads
Bands Noosing
Blue veins of a neck, a wrist
And a mouth cries 'shibboleth,
I'll break the world with my fist'
Your skin became my pale cloak
Mouth the noosed rope
On which I dangle
Ankles kicking south
And she's still the same
In a different place
With a different name
The waking moment crumbles
And I am the dust
Slipping the weave of the rope
Ankles kicking south
The narrative of the unseen
Bad photos of ace work by Glithero
Fils De Lune
You went barefoot, always barefoot
Soft through the tall grass of then
To dance on high lawns in light rain
To face a zen moon and bask
in the warmth of the world
Mock a swoon
Trace the tune of this
Shatter the chain and
ask endless questions
And shout about everything
Proudly howl your intentions to
Race against time and win
This is how we begin
Again
Your tall and reedy catlike grace
And the moon can barely stifle the grin
That plays upon his face
Barefoot, always barefoot
Footprints in the soot
Sashays through the grass of time
Fine in your movement, the last of the line
is the first
The world lunges in lust
Repeats her order:
hunger, thirst, trust
