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Showing posts from November, 2014

An ode to Anselm

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Dear Monty, Anselm Kiefer www.royalacademy.org.uk/exhibition/anselm-kiefer?  wanted to be Jesus - this was his ambition as a Catholic boy growing up in the bombed out streets of post war Germany. Later he realised that he couldn't be Jesus - none of us can. He struggled with his and our inconsistencies - he saw the two sides of ourselves. The burning burns into my head  A sickening blackness Sometimes a bright furious flame Flames of passion Or a dull smouldering Ash that fills nostrils and mouth Smothering And dulling thoughts to a numb sleep. Creativity bursts out God speaks A voice from inside  One that I hardly recognise The start was explosive The void occupied with matter That cooled and cools still 'The wise understand the destruction' 'The power of the holy people will be broken' The cooling of the core The turning of years The degradation of life Wars are inevitable We struggle to maintain boundar

Majesty and the pit prop man

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Dear Monty, I was delighted that James Golden of  FEDERALTWIST.COM  posted some episodes of  - 'Around the World in 80 Gardens'. It was a revelation to see you in your element enthusing about what gardens do and what they are for, without the restrictions placed on you as a presenter of GW. James' garden is a gem - or at least I believe it is from the images I see posted on his blog. This of course does not count as a objective view because I have never seen it in the flesh, much like we have never seen Longmeadow in the flesh. It must have been a great privilege to visit all of those gardens - one which stays with you - or does it ? Do elements stay with you and get translated into your own garden - or do the memories just fade ? I'm not sure why, but my life is sometimes overwhelmed by the sense of the brevity of it - this is the curse of being human in middle age - we operate detached from the sense of the now - we look back and we look forward. This mor

The one-eyed cat and red hen.

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Dear Monty, Where is home ? We all need to belong -to be anchored in some way. The colours in the low sun intensify and anchor me in this coal-mined garden. The hens shine red against the black shed guarded by the one-eyed cat. The pines in the park are blue needled against the sky Arches of gold behind. The arc of the Darren mountain is in shadow Silver white birch stems shine in the gully This scruffy woodland a barrier between the cut of road below. The blue kitchen frames the garden One vista But there are others opening up New sight lines New ideas to be exploited. Paul

Neglect - the truth is I've been fixing the kitchen

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Dear Monty, Sad to see the farewell from Longmeadow, its nice to get outside in someones garden - even if virtually but I suspect that you don't want to show us bare trees and bones. I've been enslaved indoors fixing the kitchen - a task that I have been putting off for some time mainly due to my poor carpentry skills. The garden has been neglected, as well my paintings. So here are a few photographs of a neglected garden - the truth is it is a mess - but even mess can be beautiful. I'm sorry to show these pictures - must be getting boring now. Paul