golden lion roaring

December 13, 2018

I like autumn. The drama of it; the golden lion roaring through the back door of the year, shaking its mane of leaves. A dangerous time; of violent rages and deceptive calm, of fireworks in the pockets and conkers in the fist.

Joanne Harris
Gentlemen and Players

dark like blood

December 11, 2018


Holy places are dark places. It is life and strength, not knowledge and words, that we get in them. Holy wisdom is not clear and thin like water, but thick and dark like blood.

C.S. Lewis
Till We Have Faces

show you God

December 9, 2018

If you ask me to show you God, I will point to the sun, or a tree, or a worm. But if you say, ‘You mean, then, that God is the sun, the tree, the worm, and all other things?’ — I shall have to say that you have missed the point entirely.

Alan Watts
The Wisdom of Insecurity

These ruins beside the reservoir were once inhabited by real people. How long ago? One, two hundred years? Cottages of crumbling stone, roofless, ragged with moss and weeds. Ghosts walk here after dark, so they say, animated fragments of the past: these shades of the long dead, glimpsed at the edge of vision by the unwary, are a link to an earlier, simpler world. Strange to tell, you can sense them even in daylight today.


Beside the sea

December 3, 2018

I would love to run a small taverna beside the sea. Mermaids could drink there for free. And beautiful ladies in stringy bikinis could sit all day under the brightly coloured umbrellas on the patio sipping their drinks and flirting with dark-eyed males.

Dreams & fragments –

December 3, 2018

Distant lights in faraway places; walking in the woods with the sound of heavy rain beating on the thick foliage overhead; the smell of damp earth and autumn leaves that look like small wrinkled brown faces underfoot; marble statues (with huge marble eyes) that walk in the dark, their purpose unknown, unknowable; endless dimly illuminated corridors; and lost cities trapped in time with secret knowledge of their own wild abandonment –

Sweet girls so full of grace – and naughty thoughts; exuberant October afternoons; Grandfather clocks tick-tocking in a dull back parlour; awkward silences that end in a kiss; The bright light from the moon in your window; darkness like wet velvet against the skin; doors that squeak open upon blackness; ghost whispers in your ear at midnight; the haunting cry of a dog-fox in the night; unfrequented places; a desolate stretch of snow at dusk; January afternoons whirling with snow; leaning gravestones enclosed by yew trees; faces beautiful with strangeness –

delicious slowness

December 1, 2018

Solitude and rain and a melancholy-sweet landscape.

I am reading with delicious slowness.

Life seems inconceivably rich.

Joyce Carol Oates
diary entry October 1973

a crooked tree

November 28, 2018

Once upon a time there was a crooked tree and a straight tree. And they grew next to each other.

And every day the straight tree would look at the crooked tree and he would say, “You’re crooked. You’ve always been crooked and you’ll continue to be crooked. But look at me! Look at me!” said the straight tree. He said, “I’m tall and I’m straight.”

And then one day the lumberjacks came into the forest and looked around, and the manager in charge said, “Cut all the straight trees.” And that crooked tree is still there to this day, growing strong and growing strange.

Goran Dukić
Wristcutters: A Love Story

Sinning on Sunday

November 18, 2018

The girls are really trying to harsh my groove. They cuddle and kiss while I watch from across the room. Both of them are naked; both turned on by the other. But deliberately teasing me with their display of mutual lust and affection. Giving me a hard on that feels like a gargantuan pine-knot in my trousers, and which they totally ignore. This Sunday morning is just for them –

desired the sea

November 17, 2018

There were times when she desired the sea, like a child with all the innocence of first things, and then her body would be made of salt water and wishes and so many hopes that she would touch the sea and become one with it forever.