Whenever people try and talk to me I show them the list of things I have to do and buy, and they scuttle away wordlessly, leaving me in peace. Respect the list. I leave for the camp tomorrow, so bye bye for now, people!
Monthly Archives: May 2007
Cornwall: 117 London: 0
Today is so hot. The clouds are little scraps of white, very high up in the punishing blue dome of sky, and I find myself hankering for the cooler breezes of Cornwall. I got back last night, not as unappetizing as before because I was prepared for how icky London would feel. It still felt …
Listen closer
I like hearing songs through several walls and a closed door, it makes then different and exciting. Like hanging off the end of your bed and seeing the room all upside down, like an unexplored mirror country. That wasn’t really the point of this post, though. Nope, I feel I ought to play catchup because …
My Name
If you haven’t already heard of Lhasa De Sela and her 2nd album The Living Road, I’d advise you to go and have a listen. I borrowed it from the library last year, but it’s rather got neglected since. Yesterday evening on the train back from Cornwall, one of her songs came on as the …
The Place to Be.
Just before I woke up I dreamed I was in a huge circle again, of people holding hands. It was the menarche ceremony at the Sacred Arts Camp, but there were thousands of people in the circle. We clapped in rhythm to the song we were singing, and my hands reverberated slowly as if they …
Who calls you a contact??
Forgot about that particular feature on flickr. I’d been very good, angelic in fact. But burying my head in the sand never sits easily with me, and I have a tendancy to be inpulsive. And click on things I shouldn’t – things that hurt me. Oh god, oh god, oh god. And underneath my heartbeat …
On crying and, well, that’s it really…
I avoid sad movies now. Crying used to be a guilty pleasure, a small rush of sentimentality at the end of a long day perhaps, something I did when I was hormonal or broody or feeling sorry for myself. Latey though, if I cry it’s always about the same thing, and it’s out of control. …