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My body feels like a swamp reluctantly illuminated by the headlights of a sinking car. Bits of me are being dredged up, bits are left murky and there are bits of cashew nut inbetween my teeth. Which is to say while the mind may no longer be excited about Christmas, the body still cues up the adrenaline the night before and like a puppy-dog woke me ( Read more... ) -
A reading:
The actor who awakened my love of cinema was Nicholas Cage in the film Birdy. I watched this film the first time I was left alone in the house at night without a babysitter when I was 14 years old. I haven't rewatched the film since and remember little about it except for the fact that Nicholas Cage played the inmate of a mental asylum, nicknamed ( Read more... ) -
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Typically I keep my journal entries choppy, the better to exert control over my writing. That way, I fancy, not too much of the world intrudes upon the few illuminated objects and momentums I choose to bring into relief. The poems I have written that I remain pleased with tend to be those which reach their own modest aims but in doing so point ( Read more... ) -
Ode to a Puppeteer
The children ( Read more... ) -
I have a girlfriend called Anna
It is what people say about the 1960s and the best parts of the 1990s in one sweet lick of salt-spray. This is romance! This is balls-to-the-wall German architecture with graffiti on the side! Oh me! The perfect egg I had cultivated has split and the yolk it pools about my feet and my toes they drink it up! This is what I wanted university to be ( Read more... ) -
The Farmer Mafia of Mouldwar Fair
The title is your typical Hollywood misnomer. The Farmer Mafia are indeed of Mouldwar but do not belong to the fair (note lack of caps; slipshot affair, gypsie, without place). Fair pitch within rural market town Mouldwar inside fiercely-guarded Farmer Mafia territory. Realistic but grotesquely disproportioned spraypaint art on rides. Subject ( Read more... ) -
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Walking back home, the smell of pollen and barbeque in the air, I watched a small boy chase geese with a stick. With every step he would raise the stick behind his shoulder like a rifle and then bring it down sharply to the ground. The violence of the second part meant that after only a few repetitions the stick was broke in two and the short part ( Read more... ) -
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When I return home after a time spent away, I always imagine my room should be cleaner than the state I left it in as if, unprovoked by human interaction, it would return to a natural state of cleanliness. In a directly inverse way to which headphones tangle themselves in drawers, loose hairs caught by a stray water droplet or a serendipitous air ( Read more... ) -
Naked Maze Night at York Maize Maze
Another day drawn on crumpled tracing paper. Pissy rain surrounding pissy geese. However, I remember when Tim started his new journal he wrote something about not using these journals to vent, but to document good days and middle days. Saturday was a good day and I wish to set some of it down in writing in case I start to remember its gimmicry and ( Read more... ) -
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I feel surplus. Which puts me in good company in my room. I have a lot of stuff. I guess I've always liked laying out my personality on shelves and pinboards. Like I've wanted my room to be an exploded diagram of myself, each wall holding a multitude of annotations, every arrow safety-pinned to my sleeve. But I guess the pins have come undone ( Read more... )