One particular kind of lottery ticket

“She gave him a look like you might give a dog that had just told you it was a good day to spend all your money on one particular kind of lottery ticket.”

– William Gibson, Virtual Light


… or so few labels

“Things had gotten to a point where Mona couldn’t get any comfort out of imagining Lanette’s advice. Put Lanette in this situation, Mona figured she’d just eat more Memphis black ’til she felt like it wasn’t her problem. The world hadn’t ever had so many moving parts or so few labels.”

— William Gibson, Mona Lisa Overdrive

lose yourself (yo)

~lara and i have talked a bit further about this essential thing elsewhere (thanx for the comment!) but i’m not sure i/we have got to the bottom of what i meant about ESSENTIAL / NECESSARY … so it’s time for another stab at it.

sometimes you can be doing the most mudane, chore-ful task only you are completely IN the moment and there is a touch of the sublime about it. because at that moment you are TOTALLY at one with what is happening. you and the task are one. are of the same ESSENCE. are ESSENTIAL.

it can be doing the washing up. walking home. meditating. breathing. rare moments but THAT is what (i think) i was trying to get at. THAT is ART 2.

came to me the other day, walking by the sea. thinking like you do. about art and stuff. about how LIFE is so ARBITRARY. what to care about. what to believe. but ART is not like that. good art (it came to me like it might even be IMPORTANT) is about creating a SPACE within which the art itself is not only non-arbitrary but ESSENTIAL. like, INSIDE that space the art could not but exist. and it came to me also that maybe it would be neat to actually LIVE like that. in a SPACE where everything we do is ESSENTIAL. and maybe that’s the point of ART – to remind us that it might, just, be POSSIBLE.

rendezvous cafe: whitley bay

I would like us to meet
where the Horlicks is sweet.

I could tell you my story
with a knickerbocker glory.

Talk of mermaids all day
spooning pear parfait.

Licking ninety-nine cones
we could turn off our phones.

Smile, perhaps disappear,
with a chocolate eclair.

Rendez Vous with the sea
and the sugary breeze.

Come eat strawberry flan
while we can, while we can.

by Julia Darling, 2003

See a wonderful painting of the Rendezvous Cafe by Emma Holliday here

slim poetry

well last evening i spent what must have been 3 hours typing up some of my oldest poetry and wrestling with this wordpress interface to get the stuff up there so ~lara can read it and be amazed at how creative her friend used to be …

now sat in the office on my lunchbreak it’s kinda weird seeing my oldwords in front of my looking all fresh and spruced up (why spruced? why not some other tree ..?)

anyway … i do have to thank lara for inspiring me (again!) with this bloggy stuff. but you know i think i was ready to do this …. last weekend at tynemouth market i picked up three slim poetry books (“what’s slim poetry, precioussssss?”) – e e cummings, adrian henri and brian patten. the books – and most of the poems in them – were new to me but those poets go right to the heart of me. to my writing.

and so, courtesy of cummings, henri, patten and a certain ms sookoo you have this.

don’t blame me