A friend told me that she would kill her dogs in a crisis to feed her children. I once heard this said by another woman on the radio and have wondered what sort of crisis they mean. It reminded me of the Andean air crash where the survivors ate the dead to keep alive before…
Category: Quotidial
In Writing We Trust
If it is in you the art will come out. You will starve, wear rags and let others take the plaudits but you will create no matter what. Because the most important thing is to create. Because you only have this time in which to create and once it is over the chance is gone…
The Coldness Of Bones
And so it is snowing again and across the fields and upon the trees the ancient white goddess shows her glory and her impermanence. She is fickle like all goddesses and cold to the touch and across her skin are my footprints and those of my dogs. And across two fields this morning those of…
Walking The Dream
The high cliffs of Cornwall, dressed in gorse, dipping down with sudden thoughtlessness to coves of sandy beaches are the perfect places to ‘find out’. Here with the wind in your hair and the sea in your eyes you learn the power of nature. And looking out towards the continents of Europe or America depending…
An Ancient Task
It isn’t so much getting up in the morning, as wanting to get up in the morning. Bringing yourself to the day and the day to yourself. And it isn’t so much not wanting to face the day, as not wanting to face what you have come to fill your days with, the chains of…
My Sheep Dog
We go for early mornings walks. With my mother being so ill it is usually one of the few times of the day she is peaceful enough for me to leave the house, and as spring approaches the morning walks become brighter, milder and the air slowly changes with the change in the light. This…
Where Is Strength. . .?
Where are the leaders who have a certain tyranny in their minds which translates into authoritarianism but when they have served their agreed time go and live quiet lives, out of the limelight, and let others do the work? Where are the thinkers whom we all look up to and admire for the clarity of…
Poetry
Many years ago at a music appreciation class my teacher suggested that music was ‘noise with rhythm meant to be listened to’. I wondered at the time what difference there was between this and language? Meaning comes in many forms and some of them are not apparent to reason, they flow into us like an…
The New Frontier
I have often thought that the search for knowledge should not just be an International effort based at NASA, but truly International with every country paying what it can for access to the knowledge and everyone sharing all the information. Not that that would ever happen because some knowledge would contain properties that different countries…
So Much News
I sometimes wonder whether it is all news or if we spend a lot of time looking at our navels. Of all the things to bring to the attention of the public a lot of news is going over things the public already know and telling us when someone has died. The news and death…