Life and time
Overlaps are their sort-of rhyme
A flower in bud as
Bows to the earth
To which it joins
I heart wall…I met this group in the NT bookshop Southbank (London) and they were doing a shoot for their blog. I unfortunately lost the URL from my phone. It’s something like heart wall and deals with relationships from Christian women’s perspective. Do contact me guys and I’ll put your URL up. All the best with the blog.
I tweeted Waterstones this morning chiding them for the preponderance of ‘media-people’ in their lists of those up for prizes in their Waterstones Children’s Book Prize.
Yes, it’s true that there is so much out there that we need people to put us on to the good things. The books on the lists: some look great.
But a trend I want us to be hard on is celebrity book deals,
especially children’s books. Why? Publishing agents have always been a little lazy but in our age with so much inequality they’re relying on the media to do their publicity work. It’s Pareto’s law: the 20 per cent will have 80 per cent of the wealth, fame, publicity etc.
So it is sad that something as democratic and joyful as books for children should become a bit of a closed shop open only to people who already enjoy some degree of publicity.
There’s an awful lot of talent out there. Let’s support it and support it broadly.
By Hand, With Heart | … traditional hand-knit designs with a modern twist!
Eternal originally did not mean forever. It means outside of time, outside of the temporal.
It is the physical linear processing of our brains that of necessity forces us to apprehend physical time in a linear fashion.
To be is to be forever. That is, we experience, once and only once in the flow and physicality of time. When that ends, time borne of physics will be like a physical object, able to be examined from outside. We will not be subject to its flow, exigencies or decay.
But within time we are becoming, always becoming and not always or automatically becoming someting good. But we are like trees growing, like a painting in progress, becoming until we are.
The Beyond (film) – From:Wikipedia
Following the release of City of the Living Dead, Fulci decided to continue that film’s exploration of metaphysical concepts — in particular, the ways in which the realms of both the living and the dead might bleed into each other.
Fulci also wanted to do a film that would pay homage to his idol, the French playwright Antonin Artaud. Artaud, a sometime member of the early 20th Century Surrealist movement, envisioned theatre being less about linear plot and more about “cruel” imagery and symbolism that could shock its audience into action.
From Kishmot: But for one slightly flawed action scene his is a top horror movie. It combines the slasher genre with the supernatural and shares a similarity with The Shining in its metaphysics.
I estimate there are 60,000 words in this fast-moving whodunit by Agatha Christie.
Our bodies will be a mystery to us till we wriggle or even writhe away from them. Somehow we are and are not our bodies.
Part of the fascination in bygone days of watching executions was the strange sensation of seeing life pass into lifelessness. Whodunits fascinate us for they present snapshots of people’s lives and snapshots of motives for murder. We all fear being murdered. We know it to be a possibility. In some ways whodunits act as antennas of knowledge giving us insights into why others may hate us and in some cases to what lengths they may go to rid our bodies of animation and of speech.
One day I wrote a poem for you
And you stuck it to the bottom of your shoe
You walked around Croydon for nights on end
Until the words in the poem were all worn out
In summer I saw you, gave you a shout:
Is that the poem I wrote you? Did you hate it so?
No, no, you said. I just took it all around
For I liked it and wanted it to cover much ground!
Dolls and such as these shimmer through joys and laments for a thousand real and imagined childhoods
The teddybears picnic in the woods – toys stuffed in the houses around our neighbourhoods
And one day aware suddenly of fellow children who had no toys and only imaginings of such happy-making objects
And again later of little ones with no food and only tears for salt