Cloudbase

15°C, light clouds


Planning another jaunt to Wales this time without Rosie, that means Tryfan is a possible climb, but not going if the cloudbase is less than 2,000ft. Otherwise it’s Rhinog Fawr.

Viewed from Rhinog Fach. I don’t know how I am going to approach this one yet. Wish me luck.

Damn strangeness

18°C, clear, brightness from above. Colours everywhere


Damn, this has been a strange day.
Dry cough and me in this bull-suit. Keep out of Crockery shops for best results.

It started with such virtue. Yours not understanding.

found of… er: Melodic Death

Browsing an upmarket dating site I found this gem:

I love this world (from a little ray of sun on my hand to fresh summer rains). Try to find my way in an endless stream of life and to surruond myself with people whose souls contain a little part of my own world. I fond of music ( heavy metal, thrash, melodic death, symphonis rock, folk, jazz, blues etc.), write poetry and lyrics by myself. Found of foreign languages, history and psychology.

The writer was Russian, you’d never guess.

Fruits de mere

15°C, cloudy, but the water stays up there.


It’s been a week since a post, that’s what happens to brains befuddled by a head-cold.
A lot has happened though. Last weekend’s fabulous camping escape; crossing the Glyderau; beach day on Fairbourne with a new friend; school things, jarring recollections of the distressing side-salad incident.

I’ll never forget that salad- it was an emotional experience.
Below: the Glyderscape, is this a real place on earth that we visited?



Above: Snowdon is in the background

Wet oil

22°C, wind and warm cloud


There is a gap in the evenings. I am painting in that gap now, but it’s asking too much to expect the sleepless gap in the night to close. Would that it were so.
Gravity’s Angel:

You can dance. You can make me laugh. You’ve got x-ray eyes.
You know how to sing. You’re a diplomat. You’ve got it all.
Everybody loves you.
You can charm the birds out of the sky. but I, I’ve got one thing.
You always know just what to say. And when to go.
But I’ve got one thing. You can see in the dark.
But I’ve got one thing: I loved you better.

Last night I woke up. Saw this angel. He flew in my window.
And he said: Girl, pretty proud of yourself, huh?
And I looked around and said: Who me?
And he said: The higher you fly, the faster you fall. He said:
Send it up. Watch it rise. See it fall. Gravity’s rainbow.
Send it up. Watch it rise. See it fall. Gravity’s angel.
Why these mountains? Why this sky? This long road. This ugly train.

Well he was an ugly guy. With an ugly face.
An also ran in the human race.
And even God got sad just looking at him. And at his funeral
all his friends stood around looking said. But they were really
thinking of all the ham and cheese sandwiches in the next room.
And everybody used to hang around him. And I know why.
They said: There but for the grace of the angels go I.
Why these mountains? Why this sky?
Send it up. Watch it rise. See it fall. Gravity’s rainbow.
Send it up. Watch it rise. And fall. Gravity’s angel.

Well, we were just laying there.
And this ghost of your other lover walked in.
And stood there. Made of thin air. Full of desire.
Look. Look. Look. You forgot to take your shirt.
And there’s your book. And there’s your pen, sitting on the table.
Why these mountains? Why this sky? This long road? This empty room?

Laurie Anderson

Paris, Je T’aime

18°C, clouding


Paris, Je T’aime: utterly charming film, a series of short stories with the obvious backdrop. Some were more french in flavour, some less so.
Overall, they reflected the multinational city in a set of moving, sometimes tragic set pieces. A beautiful film.

I’m soft with fatigue, I need something…

14°C, showers & moving air from the northern approaches


New books to tease me while I finish the current one.there are too many here- nice problem to have. Brautigan has a fine voice, it’s a plain melody to listen to while reading.

Approved of by the English department, they want to use them to teach short story analysis. what a great conversation that started- went so far that we want to take kids up Yr Wyddfa in bad weather and take turns reading and thinking romanticism. No it’s nothing to do with boy+girl stuff, this is just as big but ignored by city folk. stop and listen to the quietness and it’s just as loud- it has a big voice.

Tide in. All the photos are in my memory, it was too wet to get the camera out this week. The grass, channels and clay-slip mud banks. What a contrast to those raw frightening but sublime summits of the last few trips.
Am I getting worse?