Memory

I'm flying over Victoria Falls in Zimbabwe in a small plane, only six or so seats.
I am looking down at rainbows and huge torrents of water that fall and rise up into the air again. They call them "the smoke that thunders" and I know exactly why.
It is so hot, so much sun all around the small plane. Elephants arise on the banks of the river, and hippo heads appear and disappear in great number. So much green and so many trees.
The plane swoops and soars and my heart beats fast. So much happiness in the breezes and and this magnificent flight. It was before I met you. And you.
It was another time.
My youth in every movement of that plane.
In every sip of Coke from thick green glass bottles.
The motion of that flight.
A former sister in law, a former friend. The crystal blue clarity of it all.
The tightness of my sun burnt face as it erupts into a series of smiles.
The spray from the Falls on my face.
It was before you came and before you left.
But it was not the wind that time.
Precious territory, my undiscovered self, my fingers and toes skim the surface of the deep pool.
Sometimes, I look up, imagining you are next to me. Delayed intimacy.
I dream tonight of a plate of food that we did not share but that consumed me.
I had not met you.
You were not there.
Safe in my flight I help myself. I embargo the memory.
I savour it like the towel they wrapped around me as I rose from the deep water.
A taxi hailed on a busy West End street.
Tears that will always fill my face with their bitter memory of loss.
Just a building site now...... the fear is gone, as i soar over a great river and the sun catches the reflections in its radiant and generous hands.

Three Days Of Rain

It feels like we have just had three days of rain. Soaked through, I can almost feel the dampness begin to penetrate underneath my skin. Nasty November leaves the room and a large puddle behind him. Grey clouds, absentee sun, rainbow umbrella providing the only shelter from the storm. As we enter December, we are hopefully saved by coloured lights, bright garish tinsel trees and chestnuts that roast and sing over open fires.
Can cliche keep us all warm?
A credit crunch Christmas looms as we try to assure ourselves that December will be magic again. Soggy paper chains link us. Loop by loop by loop.
But it occurs to me that we need these up and coming festivities. We need the parcels, pies, puddings and wine. We need the colour, we need the fire, we need the warm.
We need each other.
We need to celebrate and keep the wet cold fingers of the rain at a distance.
Hand by hand by hand.

Honest

It's interesting putting random thoughts out into the universe.
Scary and exciting all at the same time.
Sharing secrets, censoring certain things and happily expressing others.
An emotional landscape, fraught with fearlessness and freedoms. I want to attract the traffic, but I am not sure all of my lights are green. Celebrating the promise of the emerald glow, I survey the unknown territory ahead. My journey has begun with one small tentative baby step.
Honesty is all it needs.
I say the word once more and I fall deep down into an ocean of poppies, their petals wrap me in their wings.

Soul Food

I remember being twenty years old and walking through London in December in the rain. A similar evening to tonight. I was confused and trying to understand myself and the world around me. The rain was cold on my face, big drops that felt like ice .
I stopped to buy some jelly beans to cheer myself up. They were heart shaped and fruit flavoured. I remember walking along and eating them in great handfuls.
The rain was getting heavier and I was taking bigger helpings of the beans.
Non water proof shoes, wet socks, cold toes, heavy heart.
Heart shaped and fruit flavoured the jelly beans roll and somehow they're good for your soul......
The words came into my head from nowhere, but I repeated them to myself as i walked. Like a mantra, heart shaped and fruit flavoured the jelly beans roll.......
And they were, really good for my soul. Because as I ingested them I knew that everything was going to be ok. Their sweetness and shape, the hopeful taste of my future.
I always think of jelly beans as soul food now. Try some and see. Heart shaped and fruit flavoured recommended for maximum benefit. See label for responsible daily dose.
Somehow, they're good for your soul.

Change

Enormous changes really do come at the last minute.
Just when you think it's all over.........
You get a message, a text, an answer.
And a day really does make a difference.
Without much ado, everything changes and the fat lady is left waiting in the wings once more.

MILK IS GOOD FOR YOU

Gus Van Sant's biopic of Harvey Milk is an inspirational and riveting film with great and amazing performances from Sean Penn and Josh Brolin.
Milk's political journey began when he moved from New York to San Francisco at the age of forty. At this age and stage in his life he couldn't think of a thing he'd done so far to be proud of.
I couldn't help beg the question of myself....How much have I done by this tripe old age that I'm proud of ? Well, it's difficult to put into words, but I'm happy to say I can think of a few.
But if i could list any accomplishments nearly as awesome as those that Milk went onto achieve, I'd be a very happy and proud chappie.
See MILK, it's more than good for you.

So......

Whoopi Goldberg has a great view on gay marriage......"If you are against gay marriage, don't marry somebody gay". I think that is all that needs to be said on that one.

The Dancer In The Closet

Yesterday was Mickey Mouse's 80th birthday and to celebrate it a mouse made what I can only hope was a very brief cameo appearance in my cupboard under the stairs.
The mouse stayed firmly in the closet (not satisfied with the field ?) and was too shy or emotionally immature/uncomfortable with his own mouse-ness to actually make an appearance beyond the cupboard door.
But obviously this is a complex and attention starved rodent as it decided to perform what can only be described as a very complicated tap routine that went on for some hours (what's wrong with an intermission? )

They say don't mess with the mouse over at Disney HQ, but I am hoping the ultrasonic device i have just plugged in (and spent half of my weekly food budget on) will do exactly that.
Right now it should be a mouse with a mighty migraine. Unless it actually likes the ultra expensive, (ultra dubious that it really works), ultra sonic sound I am serenading it with and decides to choreograph a whole new routine that is.
Yes, I am a rodent-o-phobe....probably not a word, but it sums me up.
Maybe there should be a word to describe forty year old men who fear mice? Although neurotic probably does the trick. Now I am not the only one who is dancing as fast as I can......

So to the mouse in the closet, I do not bid you come out, I bid you farewell.

& Happy Birthday Mickey.......keep on doing what you do and making people happy , or the dancer in the closet gets it.......

The Corners Of The Sea

I once had a dream that I was swimming and looking for the corners of the sea.
Four corners of the sea.
It has stayed with me.
Right now I am looking at a suitcase in the corner of my living room. It is full of photographs of me and my ex partner who died seven years after we broke up.
I was given the photographs recently from his belongings. I have not felt like unpacking the suitcase yet. Too many feelings, too much unfinished business.
So it sits in a corner.....a sea of memories.
I guess that's why they call it emotional baggage.

Midnight

Midnight and I have my first comment. Why do we all need feedback?
I guess I can't answer such a big question, but I know I need it and I know I like receiving it.
I suppose it means we are not alone regardless of whether the feedback is positive or negative.
I like the fact that the blogging world is a community that I have now become a part of.
I have always wanted to write and so now i break through fear and put virtual pen to virtual paper. It feels good to begin to express myself and not be too worried about my audience.
I used to want to act yet did not explore that arena. But I have still done a lot of acting.
My life is strange right now, caught up in something work wise that is unique and unusual, something I have no part in but am affected by. Tarnished by the brush of celebrity.
A lyric from the brilliant composer William Finn -
"I believe And I have found, Hyperbole, is not what makes the world go round."
Yet the world is full of it.
Oh for simplicity......I aspire to it and cherish it.
November night you offer new horizons.

p.s

The TV Executives see a window of opportunity, the credit crunch.
So now we are bombarded with specials and exclusive editions of our favourite property shows telling us how our house prices are falling and the world economy is changing. Dramatic global news, eh? I have been chewing on my own private credit crunch for some years now.....adding some blueberries and yogurt makes it taste sweeter. Let it linger on your tongue and savour.
Personally, I am trying to focus on the positive.
Try the gratitude diet. I try to feel gratitude for what I have, I try to count my blessings.
My riches may be sub prime but I try to feel grateful.
I am not smug, I am not secure in my finances or my standpoint.
But I say thank you daily.......and somehow it helps.

Wet Monday

It's a wet Monday in November and I have been reading some blogs on the web today. Interesting how people describe and define their lives. So much happiness, sadness and indecision.
I walk home from work in the dark wet and cold and decide perhaps I should write a blog too.
So here I am, my first time. The fire is roaring, there is wine in my glass and my fingers tap the keyboard as i explore this unfamiliar landscape. The things I want to say are there, just not quite ready to come. So used to writing for other people, other voices, saying what fits a formula.
But one thing I want to say is that happiness is like the wind.
I realised this when I was twenty, but it's taken another twenty years to sink in.
It touches you, brushes past you, you feel it and it is gone again.
But it blows frequently. Sometimes a breeze, sometimes a gale, sometimes a whisper.
I am forty and do not know what I want to do when I grow up, but I do know that happiness is like the wind.