Wait until next year

Putting off what could be done tomorrow, today

Category: esoterica

Notes from a suburban Tuesday morning walk

Black and white photo of a road, with pavement behind, then a chainlink fence holding back trees. In the centre is a lamppost, with a St George's flag hanging off it

Midges gathering around a brick fencepost.

Tradesmen sleepily filling their vans.

The high, eerie hum of the postman’s electric van.

A woman receives her supermarket delivery, then runs out of her front door – a bottle of lemonade has been pierced and is spraying everywhere. She waves it like a Grand Prix winner.

Men with covered faces and smiling eyes straddle a half-built extension, brave the dust their tools generate.

Pavementside trees begin to blossom.

A dog stands outside a bakery patiently while their owner ducks his head in for a morning cake.

A greying, tawdry flag hangs half-mast from a lamppost, is caught in the reaching branches of a nearby tree.

Bees dance around front garden daffodils.

A neighbourly doorstep conversation.

The quiet hope of a park in springtime.

Never was a cloudy day

At the start of the year I decided to keep a diary. I challenged myself to write something, anything, for every day of the year.

Read the rest of this entry »

Cathedral Et Chartres

3486767308_abca8aaf9a_b

So much distance is meant by it:
just as with the backdrop of a scene
the world is meant; and as through that scene
the hero strides, cloaked in his action’s mantle: —

so the darkness of this doorway strides acting
onto the tragic theater of its depths,
as boundlessly and seething as God the Father
and just as He transforming wondrously

into a Son, who is distributed here
among many small, almost unspeaking roles,
all taken from misery’s repertoire.

For it’s only (this we know) from
the blind, the cast-out, and the mad
that, like a great actor, the Saviour emerges.

Excerpt from The Portal, Rainer Maria Rilke, trans. Edward Snow

* Read the rest of this entry »

Here’s that rainy day

IMG_20200428_090952200-01.jpegThe first real rain for a while. The garden needs it, etc. Read the rest of this entry »

Private mythology

IMG_20200211_213347-01.jpeg

Presumably all obsessions are extreme metaphors waiting to be born. That whole private mythology, in which I believe totally, is a collaboration between one’s conscious mind and those obsessions that, one by one, present themselves as stepping-stones.

J.G. Ballard, interviewed in the Paris Review

Read the rest of this entry »

Design a site like this with WordPress.com
Get started