Strife

I drew this in an Oxford pub years ago. Looks angry but for me it was a breakthrough - the first time I'd used colour. Up to that point - only charcoal. Thanks to my friend, Peter, who made me do it.

Strife was different then.

Now it's with Eglobalcentraluk - a minor kind of strife, I suppose. I paid for a Samsung plus chromebook from them a week ago but have heard nothing. Emailed twice. Nothing. The uk is a misnomer - they're based in Hong Kong. I hope it's not goodbye to my money but it might be. I should have been more careful and will be in future, but this is the very first time I've had any trouble buying online - including from China where I've bought several violins.

The Samsung Chromebook plus is supposed to be good for drawing on and I like being able to draw on a device. Here's hoping that I'll get my money back (or the goods) but my hope is fading.

Silver Drum

I'm playing Maybe Someday - it's an old Incredible String Band song - can you hear it?

Shadows

[Shadows - Aja Gap]

No news about my Samsung Plus - hope I haven't made a mistake ordering with EglobalCentralUK which turns out to be based in Hong Kong.

I'm messing about, staring into space, temporarily paused with The Man from Another Country wondering whether to continue with Dani as the main character or whether to switch to Esme. They'll both still retain their pov chapters but the main one gets the 'I' treatment, so far reserved for Dani. Still thinking about all this.

The snow's stopped. It was there last night. Gone this morning. Wet now.

Finished reading Ian McEwan's The Nutshell. It was clever, often lyrical, but the narrator (in the womb) often didn't feel believable because he was (mostly) dispassionate about his mother. When he said he loved her, it was almost as though he were reminding himself that he should.

Have started Giovanni's Room. Love James Baldwin. Hate the tiny print. Online reading has much to recommend it.

Experiment

I've been getting so frustrated not being able to draw online. Since my Surface broke down and I had to get a phone without an S pen, I've increasingly missed having a device to draw on.

Yesterday, I checked the Surface Pro 4 - still broken - wouldn't hold charge. Gave up.

Bought Samsung Plus (hasn't arrived yet).

Today - Surface miraculously recovered (although am still holding my breath), and then I thought I'd have a look on this wonderful little workhorse of an Asus that I love so much but that had announced that it didn't support drawing. And look! I could use Sketchpad with trackpad and fingers. Don't know what I'm doing with it and miss Freshpaint, but still - just marvellous.

So now I've got an embarrassment of computers...... lucky me.

Eyes by Chuma Nwokolo Jnr

[Metamorphosis 2 - Aja Gap]

Eyes
(Inspired by Metamorphosis 2, a painting by Angie Phillip)

you stare astounded at my own astonished eyes.
for once, at last, we see.
soon, to feuds and warring clans,
may come this antidote more radical than guns,
more mind-blowing than drugs,
more harrowing,
truly more harrowing - and

yet

nothing more drastic than truly to see the enemy
and his blood; simply to look unblinkingly -
not through our usual black-and-white filters -
but to stare astounded. to stare, and stare until
the truth of sight becomes a mirror to our soul.
until we feel the mettle of his blues,
read his face’s panoply of hues,
his draining pools of dreams, and the
running
streaks of tears and rust…

so that when his blood
comes spurting redly at our thrust
we cannot look
away. no. and we will own his pain as

well

©Chuma Nwokolo, Jr. (2008)


Have a look: www.blogs.african-writing.com/chuma

Always Becoming

Broken tooth waiting for dentist's call mixes into the morning. A double blue today with sunshine.

Have submitted Girl in the Lion's Den - imperfectly - to 10 agents although it might not have reached two of them (wrong method/ lost formatting). Never mind. It will have to do. Am getting back to novel number 2 - The Man from Another Country. I'm getting back into writing 11 year old Dani and Esme in her late 20's. There were no broken teeth in that era. Body taken for granted. But other problems to face. Who was it said that we should love the problems?

Red Woman

Frustration - submitted my novel on agent's contact form and formatting lost! Changed query letter each time for various agents and included mistakes. Go to pieces when submitting novel. Must just do it and then get on with the next one.

Misty morning

Haven't posted for about three years! Am split three ways - pictures (my website and this blog), music reverbnation) and writing. Wondering whether to pay a large sum of money to ipower to renew the hosting plan I've just cancelled or try to do it all with blogs.
It's a misty morning...

Have cancelled English Study Direct. After more than 15 years, it feels like stepping into a new life, living without it. But suppose stepping into a new life has to happen every so often. 

at least three of us are here

 
Who is this sitting on a bench in Potternewton Park in Leeds some years ago? I can hardly see who it is - there is no detail. Does that make him not exist? He never knew that I looked at him and drew him. What was he thinking about? What was his life like? Is the space he is sitting in more important than the man?

This is Ron, a man I knew all my life. He lived alone. He was kind. Can you see him in the drawing? Will the consequences of his many kindnesses roll out into time like little waves enriching wherever they land, passed on further by the people to whom they were given? Or is Ron finished, his acts finished with his life?

What of me is in these drawings? What of you is in the seeing? How do we all combine?

Ring the bells

'Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
It's how the light gets in..'
Leonard Cohen

Fiddler

Fiddler of Dooney by W. B. Yeats WHEN I play on my fiddle in Dooney,
Folk dance like a wave of the sea;
My cousin is priest in Kilvarnet,
My brother in Moharabuiee.
I passed my brother and cousin:	5
They read in their books of prayer;
I read in my book of songs
I bought at the Sligo fair.
When we come at the end of time,
To Peter sitting in state,	10
He will smile on the three old spirits,
But call me first through the gate;
For the good are always the merry,
Save by an evil chance,
And the merry love the fiddle	15
And the merry love to dance:
And when the folk there spy me,
They will all come up to me,
With ‘Here is the fiddler of Dooney!’
And dance like a wave of the sea.

Rest in peace, Ken and Roma Smith

Long time since I posted.
Today is the day of Roma's funeral - clear blue sky, sunshine, birdsong.
Roma was our next door neighbour. She was 89, had had a good life, it seems. I only got to know her fairly recently since she was in hospital and was startled by her dry wit, sense of humour and concern for others, intact, despite months of increasing pain in her legs.
Ken, Roma's husband, died a few weeks before she did. Here's Ken in the garden last year:

Ken Smith, Harold Rd, Hastings

New Orchestra

We're forming a new orchestra - The Hastings Sinfonia inspired by Polo Piatti. We're still looking for musicians so if you are a musician living in Hastings, UK or anywhere nearby, have a look at the website and get in touch with us.

Hastings Sea

ZB1

'....language is the enemy of imagination......'

 Pascal Mercier in Perlmann's Silence

singing & skipping

time

tv

becoming

Lost