Awry

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Things have gone awry, Anna. Dreadfully awry.

Well Georgie, you might be high up in air now or perhaps you have arrived in foreign country. Even in foreign country you may be high... if you get my meaning.

Do not drink water in foreign places.This is sound advice. Instead, perhaps drink the bottled beer.

I am thinking you are needing this small holiday and that it will improve the mental conditions that presently beset you. 

Dave's cold is much better and he forgives me for shoving his large nose into steaming muck. Although this may have hastened his improvement. Possibly. Unfortunately have not been able to remove stain from carpet.

Dave go early to bed. Well, early to couch, since I have his bed. And I am not sleeping adjacent to a person who has respiratory infection and might blow it up ones nose, although accidentally, while we both sleep.

I am concerned for your health, Georgie. But I would sleep adjacent to yourself because mental problems are not contagious. Well, I think not.

Is funny world though, is not it? Not funny in the laughing sense but funny in the weird sense. Still, only world we got, eh Georgie. 

Perhaps send postcard to your Anna? Also you may perhaps buy her a small gift as remembrance of place you visit. Though please not that peppermint rock muck what has name of town all way through.

I have coffee and go now to bed.

Take care my Georgie

And come back soon.

Your Anna

Travelling

Dearest Anna

It has become incumbent upon me (yet again) to take a trip to the land of Johnny Foreigner. (In preparation for the trip I have been taking lessons in 'Shouting loudly in English')

Can't say more at this stage but may be absent for a couple of days or so.

Fear not - I shall return.

Your loving George

Do not yet come over for visit, Georgie, for Dave have very bad cold in the head.

I say to him - Look what nature has done. She has filled space in head with phlegm and snot and other unpleasant variety of mucus . Did not George tell you that nature abhor vacuum?

Of course I am meaning this to be joke but Dave does not laugh. He sit with head covered by cloth, inhaling fumes from filthy stinking stuff in bowl which he say mother always administer him when boy, and he has bad cold.

I tell him - No bloody wonder is it that you have problem with head late in your life. This muck what you inhale as child has probably killed off stone dead certain important cells in brain. Probably in frontal cortex, which is nearest to nose.

Dave mutter something which because of cloth and snot I fail to properly hear, but I do catch word what sound like STUPID and SWEDISH. So I smack him lightly on back of head with hand.
Unfortunately I do fail to take into account close proximity of head to bowl, and also fact of Dave's long nose. This nose is now propelled into bowl just as Dave is inhaling.

There is much chaos to follow as Dave leaps to feet with green stuff issuing from nose and mouth. Also bowl is knocked onto carpet staining badly same nasty shade of green.

Since Dave  is making horrible choking sounds I think he maybe dying, so quickly summon by telephone, the doctor, but by time he arrives, Dave no longer is dying but is not looking healthy.

Anyway, doctor chides him for using such 'old wives' remedies, and asks Dave does he not know we are in 21st century with modern medicines. Then he writes out prescription for some such modern medicine and leave, informing us that he has important golf match to attend.

Dave is not very pleased with Anna so this another reason why best not come.

Anyways let me know how you are.

(Oh and I see wooden bird has escaped from wooden shed. You are very eccentric person, Georgie)

But I like this

Anna

Freedom

If I have freedome in my Love,
And in my soule am free ;
Angels alone that sore above,
Injoy such Liberty.

(or even owls)

What is this owl in shed about?

This is not real owl. Looks wooden - like shed. So how can wooden owl be trapped in wooden shed.

And no, I never have hat handed down from mother nor the dress, even though mother is very fashionable and works (sometime) as model in our country of Sweden. Not now does she do this - I am meaning in past times when Anna is growing up into young lady.

Ha Ha. Was tricking you there because you expect me to say this and make myself look foolish. Well no dice, baby. Because I know this to be metaphor. And how do I know this? Because part of my study is in Transactional Analysis and I know from this how parents hand down to us the baggage. It is like the English poet and librarian, Mr. P Larkin says:

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
   And add some extra, just for you.

But Dave know this, only he don't like speak ill of parents. He say it like he has signed Official Secrets Act and now is not at liberty to divulge things what happened long time ago. 

But I say to him - And what about the 30 year rule, when government papers may be made public?

But he just mumble something about I do not know what is like to have the head he has. Which is true. For we cannot get inside some other person's head and find out what it is really like to be them.

(I would like to get inside your head, Georgie. What fun might be waiting for a girl in there)


As you know I have finished exams so have got my ends loose at this time. How about you come over? And meet Dave at same moment?

Anna

Trapped

I call this photo "Owl in Shed"
Of course it is not about owls - or sheds.
It is about the human condition: trapped in the shed of our own consciousness.

Do you ever feel trapped, Anna? Trapped within your own personality? I mean do you ever take a step back and look at yourself:  The way you think? Your beliefs? Superstitions? The way you people see you? And how this differs from who you really are?

Do you sometimes feel out of control? That this personality of yours is not really you, but something else... something you've put on - like a suit of clothes, almost?I don't just mean you, Anna, I mean everybody.

Hand-me-downs. The hat that young lady is wearing... doesn't suit her... where'd she get it? Her mother... oh, I see.
And that dress... the wrong colour?... don't tell me... her mother!
And that young man with the shoes that are killing his feet, cos they're the wrong size... from his dad...right?


I am glad you spent the night with Dave. I think we all need (at some time or other) someone to - as the song says - help me make it through the night.

 I think it was Frank Sinatra who averred... Whatever it takes - the bible or a bottle of whisky - to help us make it through the night.

You say I should meet Dave? Somehow, I feel like I already know him. 

But as regards this space Dave now has in his head - you should advise him to put something else in there to fill it. Nature abhors a vacuum - especially in the head - and it could get filled with all manner of undesirable things unless Dave takes control.

Re the drawing of a young George: I drew this myself, and feel  it captures the awkwardness, sensitivity and, at the same time, the vitality of an emerging artist and poet.

Yes, there is sadness there too - but I don't see the ugliness.

Yours wistfully

George

Georgie.

I am writing directly from hot spot to you. This being located within Little Chef which is accessed by footbridge from Premier Inn where I did stay this last night.

Dave sit opposite to me with his greasy English breakfast which include the disgusting black pudding. Such muck.

Anyways, he was real pleased to see me and insisting I stay for night because, as I have already told you, price is same for 2 as 1.
Room has the double bed and also the single bed. Dave have been sleeping in double so he suggest would be a shame to soil clean linen on single bed for one night. Maid, he say is very hard working and probably also on minimum wage, and also from Eastern European country with large family over there to send money back to so as to keep alive.

This being so it would be kind thing to save her extra work if I share double with him. So Dave say.

I respond - That ok with me, Cookie, so long we don't indulge in copulation, since I am promised to another. Which is you, Georgie.

Dave say that fine by him since mental state have robbed him of libido anyway. But would be nice having warm body to snuggle in night. So we do it.

Dave promise try control farting. Which he does - mostly. And so we have pleasant night and he tell me about his traumatical childhood from whence he believes much of his current problems is arising.

Anyways, why are you under weather? (Dave tell me this another stupid English idiom which mean to feel not so healthy, and by the ways, I think you should be meeting with Dave because of many common things you have - like mental problems.)

Also what is funny drawing of small boy you include on post? Do you make such drawing? Or is perhaps your brother Hector is making it of you at the time you were little? 

Either way, this little boy look sad - and and a bit ugly. 

Me and Dave return to flat today.

I hope you are less unhealthy.

Please write and tell me.

Your Anna

I think I was too young to cope with childhood

 

Pen and ink drawing of George as a small boy
























Nothing is as it seems - and even it it were, how would we know?

Glad you found Dave. I told you everything would be all right. I think it would be a nice gesture if you went to see him at the Premier Inn. It may persuade him to come back. The thought that someone really cares about him. You don't have to stay the night. You could arrange to meet and have breakfast with him at the Little Chef.
Anyway, it's up to you. 

But remember, people benefit from a little TLC - failing that, a swift boot up the arse.

I had a nightmare last night. A nuclear war was about to start in the next 24 hours. All  negotiations had broken down and the government had advised the public to prepare for the worst. People were sleeping  on the streets with their furniture... they somehow believed they would be better off than in houses. I found myself imagining what the 'end' would be like: a blinding flash? searing heat? And then nothing? I woke in a bit of a sweat and it took time to convince myself that it had been a dream.

Do you believe in past lives? I'm not sure I do... well not in the usual 'reincarnation' way. I do have a theory though (it's to do with clumps of energy) which I will save for another time.

Anyway I think I (or part of me) may have been a seafaring man in the past

I have always felt an affinity for the sea and sailing - although the only boat I have owned is 'Oscar'. And today I made a railway journey to see the 'tall ships' at Liverpool. I went on board one of them and it was wonderful. It was over 100 years old and had originally been a trawler. Just to tread the deck planks, run your hand over the huge wooden tiller, the ropes, the metal work... and what a fantastic mix of smells. (I wished could have photographed them). It is now owned by a man and his wife (I talked to them)  who live on board and spend most of their time working on the boat to keep it seaworthy. They were sailing to Falmouth the next day. I felt like stowing away.

I've been feeling a bit under the weather, Anna. But I'll dance again!

Let me know about Dave.

Your George

Good news - Dave has been located.

I tried Salvation Army but they would not give me details of any of their residential people living there. Also would neither the YMCA even though I put on most seductive posture and breathy voice. No way would they.

But anyway all of sudden I receive from out of blue sky a postcard. Well, did not fall from sky (another English idiom) but delivered by postman. Which has picture of Premier Inn which is adjacent to Hagley Roundabout. It is here where Dave currently resides at. 

I ring up this place and ask him what the **** does he think he is doing causing me such worry and concern, he say he just need a bit of space in his head at this critical time of life.

I say, I would like to punch hole in his head which would give him plenty of space. How he laugh at this. But I tell him I tell him I do not joke.

Anyways, he ask me to visit him at this Premier Inn because no extra does it cost if second person share room and beds are single so that would be ok.

These beds being very comfortable - as assured by that coloured gentleman who is Lenny Henry, on the tv, and also one can get good breakfast from Little Chef which can be accessed over footbridge.

I am very doubtful of pursuing this course of action, despite attraction of Little Chef breakfast (which is not included in price so would have to pay for this).

However, perhaps it will be necessary to go and drag Dave back by taking firm hold of ear, which will be for his own good.

I will tell Sven what you say when he next ring me. I cannot call him because he keep changing cell-phone number. He call this 'duckin an divin' (is this other English idiom?).

Your ever loving

Anna

Oh yes, and one more thing.

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Will you remind that blockhead of a brother of yours that the negatives to which he refers were destroyed in the fire that burned down the studio. Perhaps you could also remind him that he received hefty compensation from the insurance company who, despite weeks of investigation, could not prove arson (Sven being the prime suspect).

Tell him he cannot have his cake and eat it (another English idiom). And as for his threat about 'wooden boxes' ... his amateur gangsterish posturings do not frighten me (he doesn't know where I live).

From the back of the head

**********************************************************

Let's face it

We are an accident:

The offspring of a Cosmic ‘one night stand’
Big Bang
Unplanned

 No contraception used

The first cell fused

 Conceived, not in love

(this came later)
Nor yet in sin
 (original or other)
But, in blind indifference - 
Our mother,
A chemical reaction,
Raw energy.

 There is no design –

No plan, no meaning, save
That which we create
For ourselves

 We are alone

On this rock
Spinning
In space
And time.

 A cause for despair?

Au contraire!
Invigorating -
Fresh air blows through the
Junk-filled attic of our mind -
Sweeping away clingy cobwebs
Of silly superstition,
Clearing religion’s clutter.

No good ship Lollipop

To miss –
No froggy prince
To kiss

No fairies
At the bottom of our garden
No bogey-man behind the cellar door
No hell to fear, nor yet
No heav’n to strive for
Castaways upon a cosmic shore

No one to hold our hand,

We stand, here and now,
 on our own two feet
Responsible
Free



Yes but...

Where do you go when you die?
Do you really float up in the sky?
To the sound of a heavenly choir?
Or drop down in a bloody great fire?

Or do you go nowhere at all?
Hang around like a smell in the hall?

How can someone BE
Then NOT BE?
That's what's so puzzling to me.

A friend of mine made the suggestion
That I need not be asking the question,
Then I wouldn't trouble my mind,
An impossible answer to find;
That we'll discover soon enough -
About death and all of that stuff.

But that just won't do for me -
I'm a philosopher, you see -
So if you've any ideas,
I'd like to hear them -
Cheers



Any news on Dave, Anna?

George

Pills to cure all ills

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I've got some new pills, Anna.

I'm not supposed to take 'em with alcohol. I have been drinking alcohol tonight so perhaps best not take them.

Funny, they never tell you when you buy beer... don't take tablets with this...

Perhaps the brewers are more relaxed about it than the pharmaceutical companies.

I once saw a dietitian whose advice to me was to 'eat what you want'. That can't be right...surely?

There's a lot we need to sort out, Anna - me and you. And we'll get round to it. But it's time for bed. "To sleep, perchance to dream..."

Oh you can count on it, Will.

OSCAR

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Here is 'Oscar' in his/her berth at Venetian Marina. It's not a particularly good photo (I took loads during the time I had the boat) but it was taken on the morning I finally said goodbye.
Afterwards I drove to Llandudno and spent the night there.

I do not think, Georgie, that you are understanding the serious quality of the situation.
Much has happened to Dave in recent times so that his confidence is considerably lessened and his self image is suffering damage. A person - especially of Dave's sensitiveness - could be shoved into the brink of doing to himself harm. Especially as he did read that rubbish you write in blog about choosing time and place and method of how a person could end life.

You have perhaps forgotten because I know how you get sudden ideas and expostulate them in writing and others read and you do not know effect of what you are saying might have on sensitive mind - such as Dave.

This is problem of you, Georgie. Lack of awareness of effect you may be having on other persons.

Also, this is not photograph of mystical beast and was not taken on island east of Java (which is anyway computer programming language). 
Rather is photograph of wooden dragon on strings which is purchase from garden-centre east of Chipping-Norton. This I know because I remember your wife bringing back to home (Wynorin) and hanging on almond tree in garden.

Whilst on subjectivity of photos, I have telephone call from Sven who is asking to remind you that although he is letting you off from  money you owe him, would very much like certain negatives returned to him, pronto. Also, and most importantly, Sven say that if print from any of said negatives appear in retrospective you had best get measured for wooden box. 
Such a sense of humour has my brother.

Am now putting on coat to make search for Dave.

Your Anna

My major retrospective (update)

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I shall be including this photograph in the 'Mythical Beasts' section of my exhibition.

It was taken on a small island east of Java, in my exploration days. 

This was one of the few times I ventured into tropical climes, preferring, as I said,  the polar regions of our planet.






Now, regarding Dave: If you do go searching for him I recommend, as your first port of call, the Salvation Army Hostel, and after  that the YMCA. Both excellent places to secure a warm bed for the night. Although, this being summer (just), perhaps Dave prefers the open air. In which case try the city parks and the municipal golf course (it's surprising how warm and snug a bunker can be).

So you have now finished your exams. BRAVO! Perhaps when you locate Dave we can all go out to celebrate. (you've still got some of your grant left, I trust!)

I think I've got a corn on my right little toe. I must ring the chiropodist on Monday.

Also, I have been having a few lavatorial issues over the past few days.

Still, one must soldier on.

Let me know if you find Dave.

Your George