I wanted to share a song that I’ve been preoccupied by a little. It’s a song by the French singer-songwriter Francis Cabrel and, when put prosaically, couldn’t be more French. An adult looks back at a formative sexual experience of his adolescence, when he – basically – looked up the dress of a girl who had climbed up a tree ahead of him. Put like that, it sounds prurient and a bit pervy. So far, so middle aged French singer-songwriter. Continue reading “The dress and the ladder”
Neil Simone’s art is both extremely complex, and extremely accessible. Not only are his natural landscapes light, aesthetically pleasing and clear, but each one is imbued with meaning.
Stuck in my head today is France Gall’s beautiful song “Ce soir je ne dors pas” so I thought I’d share it here. Continue reading “Stuck in my head: France Gall “Ce soir je ne dors pas””
Attentive followers will have seen that I previously had two websites, a personal blog using my name, and a professional blog talking about my freelancing. Continue reading “Writing and existing”
An open letter to James Rhodes, pianist (in reply to his article).
James, on the off-chance you do read this (since I’m going to tweet you a link to it!) I don’t know you at all, of course, and please forgive my direct way of addressing you here – it just feels more comfortable, and easy, and inspiring to write straightforwardly in the second person rather than making an abstract response into the void – but it’s more a response to ideas I read between your lines rather than any specific commentary on your own life or experiences.
I’m going to stop being afraid of writing.
Neil Gaiman, Rainer Maria Rilke and Gustav Holst are the specific heavyweight inspirations for this burst of courage. But explaining the initial reticence which has silenced me for more than a few months is a complicated one and comes down to several wildly different things in my personal life. Continue reading “Writing”
Wait, always wait.
Storms in abeyance
Fabric unspun, pieces of loom
Unwoven threads, weight and comb
Potential, weft, rags, fragments.
But in the mind’s eye –
The cloth, storm-soaked linen woven sunken silken
Heave, pull, shine before the sun in vast, away, billows
Of beauty against the sky, big, great, greater than worlds
Greater than skies.
And down again – who will weave these pieces
Who will tie these ends, draw and smooth and pull together and
Little by little build and make.
Wait, and wait
Pieces in becoming
Strewn, kinetic, imbued
Skeins of skies and of selves
Wealth, heft, depth
Your solemn joy and full emptiness and not being what one is
Only means being before the being.
Be calm, becalmed – as ponds, puddles, clouds, tempests and torrents
Are all on your trajectory.
I will be the gravity drawing the drops
Pooling them around you.
Having been alerted to this fun competition via a Twitter contact, I had a great deal of fun composing an entry. I wanted to share on here the guidelines for writing your poem, provided for the National Gallery by George Szirtes. I’m not generally a poet as I prefer writing prose, but these beautifully composed points could inspire any kind of writing, including art history, and could even inspire structures of thought which might not even necessarily reach incarnation via the written word.
– George Szirtes