I see my mind as a tapestry woven through with memories, dreams and thoughts.

Tuesday, 29 June 2010

Summer Scribbles - response to Spangle & Hannah Stoneham

'Violet Jelly' was scribbled beneath this palm tree; a space which nestles at the bottom of the garden and borders the mountainside; a space inhabited by unseen creatures and myriad sounds.

My new scribbling sanctuary; ideal for the summer with dappled shade, tucked behind the 'casa' and looking outwards, through the garden's frame, to distant mountains.
Here 'Discovering Jasmine T' is coming to fruition.

And my faithful 'helper' ..... well view Hannah Stoneham's blog (27th June - Somebody who stops you working) to realise Rupert's intent!

Pppperfect Summer Scribbling territory!

And when day draws to a close:

Transferring scribbles occurs here, along with illustrations; combinations of
photography and drawing.

Thursday, 24 June 2010

Radiant words

Words that speak to me of summer .......

sparkling ........... dappled ....... azure

............ golden .................. caressing breeze

..... lilting birdsong ........ new mown lawn

................... scented paths

array of colour ................... dazzling

................. chink of ice

What are your words this summer ?

Wednesday, 16 June 2010

Word Showers

Words have been showering my mind, recently, and I need to capture a few I wish to look upon from time to time, just because they exist in the form in which they are placed by their authors. Having seen 'My Castle in Spain's' notebooks, what better place could I find in which to collect them? It will be a treasure book of priceless jewels - for who can put a price on a word?

A few of my treasures to behold:

From 'The Elegance of the Hedgehog', a haiku by Kokinshu -

The white pearls
Fallen on my sleeves with my heart still full
We parted
I take them with me
as memory of you

From the poem 'A Litany of contrition by Elizabeth Jennings -

Dew on snowdrop weep for me
Rain in a rose cleanse my heart

From the poem 'Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening' by Robert Frost -

The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake

From an Emily Dickinson poem -

"Hope" is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -

I hope that you enjoy these precious jewels

Friday, 11 June 2010

Change of scenery

I have decided to try a new look, less cluttered and, I feel, a breath of fresh air for my blog.
What do you think?

Thursday, 10 June 2010

As the Printer Clacks and Saws

..... I smile and scribble. I love book blogs and to hear from those who love books is a shared experience. Because - I love books; the entity of a book from the handling, feel, the initial opening at a random page, the scent, words claiming their right in whatever print for the world to view; entering the interior and feasting on the content until the final page and the wrench back to reality as the cover is closed.

From childhood, I have delighted in the process of a book being made and would make my own with folded pages tied together with wool - tiny periodicals for friends, illustrated in some way.

Have I changed? Not a bit. Unexpectedly finding myself writing a trilogy for children, I now see through the whole process, from scribble in notebooks to paperback edition, complete with illustrations; writing, typing, drawing combined with photography, cutting, gluing and sticking. Book heaven!

To be totally self indulgent, I would like to share two highlights in my week. One is the creation of the cover for the second book in the trilogy. The other is positive feedback from children who are reading the first book, which is a wonderful feeling for me and the whole point of the writing - for it to be enjoyed.

I leave you with a preview of the cover:-

Friday, 4 June 2010

Consider this

Industrial landscapes - 'blots on the horizon'? Eccentric characters, out of place? Beacons slotted in to the environment, to provoke?

As with all things, it depends on the eye and on the perception.
for me, there is a certain beauty in line, texture and contrasts within industrial landscape. I am fascinated into photographing industrial scenes. Sometimes, I capture them in oils, or in poetry.

My initial fascination was awakened by Stephen Spender's poem 'Pylons'. Phrases such as - 'Bare like nude giant girls that have no secret,' - 'Like whips of anger' - 'the quick perspective of the future.' - 'So tall with prophecy' - 'Dreaming of cities'
Pylons were considered rather shocking when they first appeared.

Later, in Philip Larkin's 'The Whitsun Weddings' the fleeting descriptions of 'passing' industrial landscape mirrored my journeys between London and Newcastle upon Tyne.

I leave you with some tasters and welcome your comments.


Redundant hulk, with open sores
and porthole eye that's weeping rust,
dies at the jetty-edge of a tidal inlet
where salt water slaps the shore and
bladder wrack's globular gleam reflects
the glinting sun. A landed whale of a
tug, angled against mountain backdrop,
left to rot.
No glare of oxyacetylene torch, nor roar;
no dead ring of sheet metal nor sound
of rivets driven firmly home can
replace your fabric. The shipyard gate is
locked, welders gone. Skills rusting,
they too sit out their time.