anxiety · depression · diary · handwriting · madness · magic · meditation · mind · sleep · words · writing

magic or madness, 17/August/17

I abandoned myself to the darkness….. I believe one should write something every day, anything, preferably handwritten with a pen, in ink… or a pencil should one prefer…… lead can be a leveller, impressing its words depending on mood, what’s on your mood, dark or light……… the first line here are the first words I… Continue reading magic or madness, 17/August/17

anxiety · death · depression · diary · meditation · mortality · water

washing words, 16/August/17

with the last of the light I could feel the approach of dark, a meeting of minds, one inclined one disinclined, one refined one unrefined, stark as it is to be here between a touch straining pretence from its pores, there are no defences here, just porosity…….. they’re dragging the river with hooks and with… Continue reading washing words, 16/August/17

Anglesey · birds · diary · meditation · nature · ornithology · time · Wales · wildlife

jumping jacks, 9/August/17

the sound of jackdaws trickled from the canopy, you could hardly call it a song…. jackdaws don’t sing although no doubt they think they do in their tone-deaf innocence….. light lost its grip on the shadows collapsing in on itself leaving the dark propped with rookery trees….. almost as if today has surrendered to tomorrow… Continue reading jumping jacks, 9/August/17

Anglesey · books · culture · diary · Eisteddfod · language · meditation · poetry · Wales

poetrists and prosers, 7/August/17

~~danger: overhead geese~~ I’m caught between low flying geese and cows of the mooing kind…… in that they moo all the time, and in the middle of the dead of darkest night the moo from a cow can sound uncannily like trapped souls…… not that actually beyond my imaginings would I be 100% sure what… Continue reading poetrists and prosers, 7/August/17

birds · buzzards · diary · ecology · meditation · ornithology · wildlife

buzzardry, 6/August/17

the buzzard called out…. streel, streel…….. (that’s the sound a buzzard make… oh yes it is!) calling to me I’d like to think…….. they’re skilled at being heard and not seen calling as they do from way up high up in the high-up-there for which my depth perception has proved pretty damn essential otherwise I’d… Continue reading buzzardry, 6/August/17

anxiety · birds · depression · diary · meditation · silence · time · Ty Newydd · words · writing · yoga

notes from a tiny box, 5/August/17

there’s only me, the last remaining from the ‘party’….. a peculiar feeling when all that’s left is the space so recent filled with words and shape now just move like echoes dying fast……… so often I’m the last of the few but rarely the last of the last… omega man…… surrounded by a come-and-go now… Continue reading notes from a tiny box, 5/August/17

Canolfan Ty Newydd · diary · food · meditation · mind · poetry · self · Ty Newydd · Wales · water · writing · yoga

~yoga&writing~, 4/August/17

time has come to say what’s not been said and won’t be so an inevitable conclusion is drawn to an another equally inevitable end of another week, of the end of a course, of the end of time spent with new-found friends one may never see again, maybe so, maybe not, the scrivener has yet… Continue reading ~yoga&writing~, 4/August/17