Eight Images

Dip

I will share some images from the drawing course in the coming days but for now let me just say

a studio in an attic with panoramic views and acrobatic jackdaws wheeling
pencils and chalks and charcoal and Indian ink and paper a plenty
music to draw to, dream to, play to
a sharpened stick to dip in ink and dance across the page
lovely S who created a space of freedom and safety
lovely B who brought tea up to the attic at just the right times
a group that halved overnight due to the lingering bugs of winter
leaving the remaining three of us today with privileged space and focused attention

the freedom to play and dream, and not know and see what happens
make marks, discover media, and be amazed

Tonight the rain

again

Baby Sun

The season of Imbolc. I read somewhere: It is the day we honour the rebirth of the sun, and we may visualise the baby sun nursing from the Goddess's breast. How great! Thanks to Sabine for the reminder. I am noticing the time I am closing the curtains is a little later and a little later, and when I wake up sometimes there's a hint of early light. Tomorrow I'm off to my drawing course, with sketches, photographs and poetry relating to the willow herb I love so much. I don't know what will unfold and I'm excited to find out. I'll also take my camera since I now know (more or less) how to use it!! The rose bay willow herb, as you may remember, is the phoenix of wild plants, also known as fire weed since its seeds can survive fire. Hence its colonisation of bomb sites in WW2. Fire weed for the fire festival. Synchronicity. The meaningful coincidence.

Something's Happening

Bread in the oven and I can smell it now, the washing machine accompanying Bob Dylan singing Ballad of a Thin Man

You know something's happening 
but you don't know what it is
do you Mr Jones

Soon I'll light a fire, already laid. We have a new fence and a new shed door, and have just paid our lovely new joiner friend L, who constructed them. He also plays in a band who will be playing at the community centre across the road in a few weeks' time in aid of the Flood Fund. We look forward to some dancing.

Tomorrow I'm going to a one day course called I've Got a DSLR. Help! Watch this space. Next week a two day course called Exploring Drawing.

Gotta go - wine in the oven, bread out of the frig.... or, err, something.

Flood

The river is everywhere it is in places it has never been
it is rolling down the street like a waterfall roaring
it is filling gardens and back yards it is seeping under doors
pouring through letterboxes in at windows
filling up shop windows like fish tanks
its force is demolishing walls, cracking roads
sweeping cars away and we see suddenly that it could kill us,
this daily companion that flows through our town
sometimes gentle and sparkly sometimes brown and choppy,
but never before this river giant this watery monster
this cascade, this unstoppable force, this necessity
to go somewhere since its banks cannot contain it
since the rains have swelled and swelled it,
the moors a saturated sponge, the paths and lanes
down from the tops fast-flowing streams.

Goodbye

Happy New Year

I can't believe it's only eight days since the floods in our little town. It feels like at least two weeks. Time, always strange at this time of the year, has become unrecognisable. A most extraordinary amount of energy and determination from the local community plus volunteers from far and wide, including the army (!) have achieved more than seemed remotely possible a week ago, and our local website now boasts a proud list of twenty shops and cafes open this weekend! My friend J, owner of a most useful van, has been working tirelessly helping folks clear their ruined possessions, piles of mud and rubble, and in one case the entire stock of the toyshop. She has seen a lot of distress as well as a lot of hope and hard work. We did what we could last Tuesday, our most significant contribution to date being the cleaning up of yoga mats and meditation cushions from the little Zen house in town which was badly flooded. There has been a fair bit of wandering around trying to help, where skips were being awaited, or miscommunication led to wild goose chases. Still, we all offer what we can.

Here, our efforts have been interrupted by L feeling unwell over New Year, and having to attend the out of hours primary care clinic at the hospital on Friday evening. All is well, I am happy to report, but it was a difficult and scary time for us both, and we are now feeling exhausted. L is uncertain whether some sort of allergic reaction to some of the molds and debris in town could be behind her unaccustomed shortness of breath, but nothing is certain. Only that her peak flow, and blood oxygen readings are very healthy for her age, and blood pressure only a little up. The 111 phone service, and the doctor at the hospital were incredibly helpful, kind and efficient, and once again I am awed by the wonder of the NHS (long may it live.)

In spite of all, we managed to make eight jars of marmalade yesterday and there are enough oranges to make the same again when we have the energy! It is pouring with rain again here today, which is not popular with anyone right now, but hopefully will not persist, and the good news is that river levels have fallen significantly.