Trees can be very big, and some of them are very old. Their character and way of life is complex, in many ways hidden, and very different from our own. They can make us pause and they can make us gasp.
drawing breath is a collection of twelve poems arising from a collaboration with visual artist Tansy Lee Moir.
I’ve made booklet with the poems, some photographs, and some of Tansy’s drawings, and I’ve also made a series of recordings of readings. Hope you like them!
You can find links to all of these and more about our collaboration here.
boundary lines surrendered
sculpture on the way
Something a little different – a gallery with an assortment of some of the images and montages that I’ve made to illustrate this blog over the past wee whiley …
The island of Macgyver
Chuck Wagon crossing The Great Scots Pine
A poppy pin.
A tiny lamp relit.
This piece (words, sound, image) was made in response to a New Scientist article by Jessica Hamselou about studies by researchers at the University of St Andrews, and the University of Western Ontario into the phenomenon of déjá vu.
You read more about the science in Jessica’s fascinating article online at New Scientist.
My reading and the poem are below, click on the wee tiny thumbnail for a larger version of the image.
In the UK, if you’re over fifty, every couple of years you receive an excellent little test kit from the National Health Service. It does rather bring you down to basics. Before continuing can I raise a quick cheer for cancer screening. I know it’s a faff, but really, it does make sense – so if you’re in the age range and you’re contacted by a screening programme where you live, I would encourage you to get over the ick factor, and get on with it 🙂 !
Although the kit does come with excellent instructions, you do have to figure out your own method for some of the fine details (so to speak). I suspect that the kit has probably seldom been an inspiration for poetry, but I have always found the versatility of cardboard a very marvellous thing…
The same cloth
Dragon chewed edges chart
My cardboard construction skills,
Once creased castles to house plastic
Knights and errant imaginations.
Or a two foot Arc Royal flat-top as,
Floor bound navigators on our knees,
We projected playtime power.
The throne of easement today requires a
Temporary transom to stage my fifty something
Three day perforated tournament of poo sticks.
So salvaged corrugated cardboard,
Will again be pressed to unfold a counter,
And jury-rig a diagnostic flight deck.
My rhumb lines of luck or doubt.
About screening for bowel cancer in UK:
Bowel cancer screening UK (includes a very helpful video)
Serenity is a widely known aspect of Bhuddism, but wrath also gets a fair shout (or at least a scowl) in Japanese art like this statue of Wisdom King Fudō Myōō. (more…)
Quizzed philosophically in mid-combat to name his sin, Joss Whedon’s character Malcolm Reynolds quips “Ah Hell… I’m a fan of all seven. But right now… I’m gonna have to go with wrath.” I’m with Mal on at least four of the classic collection, but I usually try to be not quite so much in touch with my inner wrath as the maverick captain.
Perhaps I used to do anger more easily than I do now. But while I may be short on heroism, I am increasingly appalled, if unsurprised, by what seems the calculating madness of more than a few politicos apparently in the ascendant. Yes, I am become ‘Narked of Brigadoon’ (if not simply ‘Fearful of Brigadoon’).
To get a better handle on my wrath, I thought I’d try to tune in to some of what the younger me – perhaps packing a more toothsome armoury of hormones – was ranting about.
Remarkably, I think some of it did still made some sense.
Here are a couple of blasts …