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Continue reading →: breakfast
The moist weather hereabouts gives everyone the excuse they need for an extra 20 minutes in bed. What to do, what to do…Eating in bed is fraught with difficulty. Do you balance the tray on your knees or swivel 90 degrees to the bedside table each time you reach for…
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Continue reading →: ethical choices – utilitarian or fundamental absolutes
Every day we are faced with choices, most of which do not require a great deal of thought. The consequence of choosing to commute by bus or car, whether we eat ready made food or fresh, what colour socks to put on – that kind of thing. But just as…
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Continue reading →: The lost art of whittling
It should come as no surprise that a tradition rooted in the skill with which someone wields a knife in order to craft something from wood is in decline. The man on the Clapham omnibus or riding the Paris Metro would be clapped in irons for daring to display his dexterity…
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Continue reading →: Obvious truths
Holding truths to be self evident might not be the most persuasive argument. This is so so because it just is… Violence is always wrong. I have never seen a black swan, therefore black swans don’t exist. I can’t understand you so what you’re saying doesn’t make sense.There is nothing…
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Continue reading →: embracing one’s art – another St Anne’s
The Bells of Shandon With deep affection and recollection I oft times think of those Shandon bells, Whose sound so wild would in the days of childhood, Fling round my cradle their magic spells, On this I ponder when’eer I wander and thus grow fonder sweet Cork of thee, With…
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Continue reading →: St Anne’s Square – magnificent development – a poem goes with it
Discovery of St Anne’s Often passed, unheeded, or Briefly filling the field of view – To be forgotten again in an instant; As a stranger I enter this part Of our living history, so often passed by. Yet now these lofty vaults give space To the intimation of awe. Carson…
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Continue reading →: Pablo Neruda
If you forget me I want you to know one thing. You know how this is: if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch of the slow autumn at my window, if I touch near the fire the impalpable ash…
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Continue reading →: Rainer Maria Rilke
Black Cat A ghost, though invisible, still is like a place your sight can knock on, echoing; but here within this thick black pelt, your strongest gaze will be absorbed and utterly disappear: just as a raving madman, when nothing else can ease…
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Continue reading →: Nonsense rhymes
The Dong with a Luminous Nose – by Edward Lear When awful darkness and silence reign Over the great Gromboolian plain, Through the long, long wintry nights;- When the angry breakers roar As they beat on the rocky shore;- When Storm-clouds brood on the towering heights Of the hills…
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