‘In a state of awe we feel humbled. In a state of wonder we feel possible’. SB
Sometimes, the postman brings me something that delights rather than the usual stuff that fills me with dismay. On this occasion, it was Sharon Blackie‘s new book, ‘The Enchanted Life: unlocking the magic of the everyday‘: a personally signed copy from Sharon herself. The sequel to her book, ‘If Women Rose Rooted’.
Inside the package, Sharon had also written a postcard thanking me for my small contribution to her book (the PC makes a perfect book mark). Humbling indeed since it is a wonderful book, as you might expect from the hand of such an illuminating individual. I devoured every page and can’t recommend it highly enough. You will want to linger on some of the exquisite prose, as usual, thought-provoking and profound. Truly inspirational ideas about ways to re-engage with the world to experience its mystery and magic.
‘To live an enchanted life is to be challenged, to be awakened, to be gripped and shaken to the core by the extraordinary which lies at the heart of the ordinary. Above all, to live an enchanted life is to fall in love with the world all over again.’ SB
The contribution by Amy (Spittler Shaffer) too, a lovely reminder of our ‘Mythical Misfits’ days spent on the edge of the land with Sharon in Connemara, 2016. The narrative is peppered with anecdotal snippets of Sharon’s life which gives us a fascinating peek into ‘Sharon’s World’. Thank you so much Sharon! I’m utterly enchanted.
‘I love autumn and winter more. Something opens up in me then – something soft and deep and glowing – which is far too shy to expose itself to the inexhaustible light of summer’. SB
I got a lovely surprise the other day when this book of poetry arrived in the post. Emily Benton from The School of Literature, Drama and Creative Writing at the University of East Anglia had been trawling through some images on line in search of something to put on the front cover for their current year’s anthology of student’s poems. She happened to come across one of my posts on here, My Nativity, A Soupy Opera – a series of photos I took whilst going through the car wash – and got in touch with me to ask if they could use one of the images. Of course, I said yes and this is the result.
Picking up the book just now, I randomly flicked through its pages only to alight on a page where there was a poem called, 10th February. As it happens to be 10th February today, I took a picture of it to include it here. It is written by Paul Frederik Carlson.
The result of a recent Facebook challenge.
I’ve just spent some time updating this blog. When I last published a post on here, we were also deep in the midst of winter. That was the winter of 2015, since which time I have continued blogging but on new sites set up to highlight my subsequent projects. Also, a running commentary on Facebook. (Caro Woods)
Today, on here, brings me bang up to date with what is going on. Plus, in the middle of all this, a big move from the far West of Cornwall to a village on Dartmoor in West Devon, and the arrival of my first grandson, Noa – a moment of great celebration amidst the gloom of winter. These pictures were all taken early one morning on my daily walk through the village to visit the ponies.
So, if like me you’ve been busy with other things and want a quick resume with what I’ve been up to, take a look at Recent Projects, and Gallery. This site doesn’t allow me (because more money required) to post videos but if you would like to look at any, do let me know.
Sunrise on a cold and frosty morning
For more Serenity pictures, here…..or follow this link to my other blog, pilgrimonhorseback.com, to see more frosty photos.
I remember my father saying that before I was conceived I was just the twinkle in his eye. So its true then, we really are created out of star dust?
Recently, I decided to record the experience of going through a car-wash. I am mesmerised as miles of accumulated grime is scuffed and rinsed away. From my space capsule’s insiders view, I marvel at how something so mechanically mundane could produce such a beautiful spectacle. I watch the ebb and flow of water and suds, glint and sparkle around me in the light, every foamy streak unique in its formation yet producing beautiful, minuscule galaxies and mobile symmetries. Rinsing water is sprayed and squirted, misting into a liquid film on the windscreen like the wrinkled surface of a lake, whilst black rotating rubber flanges beat and flail their way along the panels and side windows gently rocking me from side to side.
Finally the giant drier blasts the remaining droplets of water into oblivion and the muddy residue vanishes down into the drains. After what seems like no time at all, the machines just stop and there is a moment of eerie quiet. The green light comes on and I turn the key to start up my engine, emerging from my reverie back into the world, my carapace duly cleansed, dried and polished and ready for the next journey along the road.
I hope you enjoy this sequence of images: A symphony of light and shadow, water, sparkle and movement punctuated by a soapy froth and passages of frenzied blackness. Inspiration in the twinkle of my eye. This is my Nativity.
“You come to us from another world, from beyond the Stars and void of space. Transcendent. Pure. Of unimaginable Beauty, bringing with you the Essence of Love.”
To see other ‘twinkle’ posts, this week’s photo challenge, see here.
Tammie and I found ourselves on a deserted beach at West Wittering, one rather cold and wet day this week.
This punctuated orange triangle stood out from the crowd
We dried ourselves out and warmed ourselves up in the pub afterwards
Then I found this in my bedroom.
For other Converge posts, this weeks’ photo challenge, see here.