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

Wednesday, 22 September 2010


I was thinking of webs, of gossamer and intrigue, the intricacy and precision of each finely spun thread

Web ... web ..... a web of lies and deceit - a trap - insidious entanglement; a state of languishing - fustiness; cobweb - flimsiness of texture; SPIDERMAN! .... and not forgetting THE WEB - a complete structure or connected series.

Spanish - la telaraña

Irish Gaelic - líon damháin

Webs spanning the visual, the literary, the functional and fantasy

Webs to delight, spun by night and captured very early one morning

Wednesday, 15 September 2010


Ultraviolet Butterfly

This is posted as a 'Thank You' to all who follow my posts; it is wonderful knowing that you are out there.

Tuesday, 7 September 2010

Short Break

Just to say that I shall be back after 14th September.

Until then, here is a Northumbrian Red Squirrel, courtesy of a friend, to keep you company -

¡Hasta luego!

Monday, 6 September 2010

Memory Bank

Continuing with memories, I shall share an excerpt from 'Violet and Lavender' .... because ... just because

“Are we going to Memory Bank?" asks Pansy Soup. She feels excited. In her mind she sees Memory Bank as a large cave echoing with memories, “but it probably isn’t like that at all,” she thinks and shivers. She turns to Larry.
“I wouldn't like to find bad memories,” she whispers to him, “especially not in a cave.”
“Then we won’t look for them,” whispers back Larry. “I think that it's a bank. If it is, the memories will be locked away.”
“I don't want to travel on another watermelon, Violet Jelly,” shudders Lavender, interrupting Pansy Soup’s thoughts about memories. “That situation was far too sticky and striped.”
“Let us see what Laptop suggests,” answers Violet Jelly. She types in ‘MEMORY BANK'’ and presses ‘RETURN’.
A soft, damp mist comes down. It is refreshing and cool. The middle of the mist turns warm and feels cosy. They each become drowsy and light - so light that they float.
“I,” thinks Pansy Soup, but she is too drowsy to begin her thought and she drifts in the mist, mind and body.
“Lull - a - bye....,” Lavender's voice sounds out softly and slowly through the mist.
“Bye,” whispers back Violet Jelly.
“Zzzzzzzz....” Larry is snoring, until...
“Oyez! Oyez!” bellows a deep voice.
‘Clang! Clang!’ clangs a large, brass hand bell.
The cacophony of noise brings Larry to his senses. He rubs his eyes and thinks, “It’s my ears that are sore. I should be rubbing those.”
“Ooh! A Town Crier! I remember those days............”
“Do you remember when market stalls had coloured awnings?..........”
“The memory of Market Square - all the exciting sounds and smells..............”
"”here are these voices coming from?” Larry puzzles and looks around.
The mist is clearing. He sees Pansy Soup stumbling sleepily towards him.
“Is it morning, Larry?” she calls out.
“I can’t answer that,” Larry tells her, “but where are these voices coming from?” he asks Pansy Soup.
“I thought I was dreaming them,” she calls back still moving towards Larry.
“I don’t think so,” says Larry. “They are all around.”
“Move along!” orders a voice that sounds as if it is coming from a megaphone. “In FILE, please!” and, “You cannot stand there!”
Larry looks around for the second time.
“Is it speaking to me?” he wonders.
“Pansy Soup!” he exclaims and grabs her arm. She is about to stumble past him.
“Two of you!” the voice remarks loudly. “FILE UP!”
“Where are Lavender and Violet Jelly, Pansy Soup?” Larry asks and then he sees them drifting in his direction, still resting in soft mist.
Pansy Soup and Larry move forward to meet them. Pansy Soup taps Lavender on the shoulder, in case she is asleep, and Larry gives Violet Jelly a gentle nudge.
“We are at Memory Bank,” says Pansy Soup.
Violet Jelly and Lavender smile and stretch. The mist dissolves and they find themselves standing beside Larry and Pansy Soup.
“Oooh!” coos Lavender. “Lemon Curd and plump, fresh strawberries.”
“For tea, when we were young,” responds Violet Jelly dreamily.
“But not together,” states Lavender.
“I was remembering,” recalls Violet Jelly, “when we were children.” She smiles broadly.
“So was I, Violet Jelly,” says Lavender. “It was cool and green in the woods, with a mist of bluebells.”
“I was there, too, in my memory, Lavender. We took cinnamon biscuits and lemonade.”

And here we leave them to the rest of their adventure.

And leave you with thoughts of daisies

Thursday, 2 September 2010

Gate of Dreams

I consider this 'my gate' with thoughts paused to gaze ... and in the distance, memories

Memories of standing watching
Memories of the warm smell of goat and donkey
Memories of soft muzzles, rough coats
Memories of evening walks, soft tread, and excitement at the rustle and rootle of hedgehogs, intent each on its own scuttling path

"Memories," speaks the gate to my mind, "to evoke time spent, long gone, but memories remain, linger on