Epping Forest Oak Trail

19.10.19

Playing in the company of gods. climbing almost spongy, sturdy roots, not branches. Whispering healing wishes as if these could heal you.What remains of your trunk begins beyond reach.A reminder of ‘the kinds of obdurate temporalities that desisting bodies perform’ (Baraitser 2017: 50)

An enchanted forest, dark shadows cast over the ground, beckoning weary travellers to attend the conference of stones. Stale bread and a small piece of cheese is passed round.There is no hope for restoration, one can only ease the endurance of suffering‘It takes time to fold time’ (Baraitser 2017: 47). Memories of childhood folded into memories of maintenance.

14 April 2018. Conversations at the Intersection of Time.

What is it about an idea that withstands the noise of time? Julian Barnes posits that it is ‘only that music which is inside ourselves – the music of our being – which…over the decades, if it is strong and …

Reflecting on Danger Risk of Falling by ParkourDance (while thinking about GE2015)

Walking through a house of heartbreaks

littered with the corpses of failures

hanging lifeless, upside down,

displayed for all to see.

Uncanny gallery of battle wounds

the scars still hurt

after they heal.

This is not another broken-hearted poem

but it is about love

Worried about losing the now

because things could always be much worse.

Taking the slaps

because it is easier than losing a home.

Wanting less pain

but not fighting for it because somehow

we’ve learned to believe

that we get what we deserve.  

And that suffering builds ruggedness of character.

And the hurt increases with each ask…

even then…

                         risk that heartbreak

follow that dream

                         (and make it real)

another failure

is no more than

                          the others before.

There is nothing more depressing

than wandering with the ghost of a dream

and living each day

in exactly the same way as we did

50 years before.

Keeping to the same limits

prescribed for each of us

with boundaries drawn in for us

in accordance to our merits

(determined by someone other than ourselves)

Dare we pursue the possibility of being

much much more than a cog in the machine

of one man’s dream?

This is not another broken-hearted poem  

but it is about love.

Nothing

Reflecting on Nothing is Something – #1 The Bench (Piemontesi 2012)…I have watched this maybe 20 or more times now…and I’ve just only recently managed to articulate why this video is so special to me.

People tell me I’m nothing
But I can make something beautiful from nothing

People give me nothing
But I can create beauty with what I am

People see nothing but what can’t be done
I see multiplicities of possibilities.

To see beauty in that which is discarded,
to create beauty from something (or someone) forgotten,
is a powerful thing.