Tag Archives: reality


In response to all the crap richoting around the world and pinging into my inbox, news feed and every conversation I seem to have these days we took ourselves for a day out. Mention of the Daily Mail is banned in our house since it hit a new low even by its own gutter standards. David’s blood pressure jumped twenty points (mine only went up ten – an exercise in peace and love of which I am proud) on reading the headline that equated forty two percent of the British population as ‘whingeing’, ‘contemptuous’ and ‘unpatriotic’. He even started muttering things like ‘its time to stand up and be counted’ and ‘we need to blockade their offices’. At the same time our FB feeds have been full of comments from our metropolitan liberal elite friends asking after cabbage picking jobs in France.

Yesterday was a glorious October day. Misty sunrise followed by cloudless blue skies and carnac-7bright, warm sunshine. So off we went with a vow of silence on Brexit, politicians of all shades, capitalism and all things other than the present moment and where we were going to eat lunch. (The highest level of civilisation – Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the  Galaxy)

The alignments at Carnac are ancient. We make intelligent (and not so intelligent guesses) at the place’s original meaning and purpose but since no one involved published an artist’s statement or a funding proposal about its construction we don’t bloody know and probably never will. I like that. I also think my other half’s opinion that it was some kind of prehistoric welfare to work scheme is as likely as any other. Good harvest – lots of underemployed young men – get them hauling stones.

To me what it’s original purpose  might have been matters less than what it has become to us now. The stones have weathered into new forms over the millenia. People relate to carnac-4them in their own individual way, take from them what they need or want in the same way as any work of art might provoke a response. Every time we look at a painting or a statue, listen to a particular piece of music or read a familiar book our response is coloured by our own current mental attitude and mood. We see something new or we like something more, or less, or we have a different understanding. The piece itself is as it was when its creator let it go out into the world, it is us who change and mute.carnac-1

So my response yesterday was seeing the art in the stones. The sculptural forms and  colours. The play of light and shade. The references I noticed to modern art and undoubtedly the inspiration some sculptors found in the ancient connects us in a full circle of shared humanity. Though where in one piece I referenced Klimt’s kiss one of my non-metropolitan, non-elite but very free thinking liberal friends saw Elephant Seals. Ho Hum!

So enjoy a few moments of staring at the images and remembering that for all it’s scary present troubles the world is a beautiful place. That humanity contains not just the worst of emotions and impulses but also the best and that life is short but art is long. David’s day was spent studying the small intricacies of life. Filming the crickets and moths and grasshoppers, the way the blades of grass stirred in the breeze and cast shadows on the stones. A bumble bee feeding on a pine cone. The way life goes on in and around the big, momentous things almost untouched by them. He inspired me to photograph the apples I found around the stone under the tree.




City scape – Fox

Sodium harsh city night
chiascuro light and shadow
tensing at the edge of flight
soft padding steps that echo

city centre neon flare
suburban executive boxes
sink estate edge of despair
playgrounds for urban foxes

I prowler I of dark places
quiet courts, tower blocks,
weed infested empty spaces
anywhere you think to look

shadow brushed stillness
a suggestion of fox, alert,
nervous, night time witness
to the city’s secret heart

night bus rattles past
no hopers, drunk gropers
disappointed party goers
one more kiss, one last
chance at happiness

silent footed I pace down
shadowed streets
I cartographer I
mapping sub-urban urban
whiskers stippling the air
scenting out hope and fear

rough sleeper, entrepreneur,
slack eyed insomniac
doesn’t matter who you are
my questioning breath
has stirred the hairs on your neck

I vulpine I, slide through
the dark alleys of your mind
in between your thoughts
the eyes glinting in your pysche
I am sensed but never caught
the shiver down your spine

jig jogging along
scritch-scratch city
never sleeps; everyone
all strung out, wired in
dancing to the tune
of the cash machine,
the get out of debt motivator
you’re in too deep
no-one on your side
high flyer, low roller
scrabbling for a ride
on the fast buck escalator

I watch you all through
the cracks in the wall

I urban shadow fox I
soul scavenger
Don’t look over your shoulder
I right behind you…