I went to a meditation group this evening (Thursday night, it appears to be Friday morning now), led by Alistair, the teacher of the meditation course I recently took. The blog-mending Mr Hg came too.

He came along not just, I think, because I am hugely persuasive persistent but partly because I had sent him the links to my two favourite pieces of writing about the practice of meditation – Confessions and How to be Uncomfortable by Dale.

Later the same day that the meditation links had changed hands I sent Dale the link to a piece Hg had written (on troubled diva) in the period last year while he debated whether to resign his job, which, if you read post, you will be unsurprised to learn that he subsequently did. And later still on the same day that this link had been passed on Dale resigned from his.

Enough mailled links to make a hauberk.

So, to stretch a fabric not generally known for its elasticity, the basic unit of the maille is three links. On that same day (last Tuesday, to be exact) it was decided that I should work part time, at least until the end of December. Four months on half pay and an uncertain future.

I have a lot of thinking of my own to do about “work” – what I want to “do” and why and how. And sometimes, in the current circumstances, I feel very vulnerable and utterly alone. And at other times, like now, I feel less so.

qarrtsiluni and the making of images

Hard to say, even harder to spell. But gorgeous to visit. It, qarrtsiluni, is a collaborative literary/artistic space/blog which invites contributions from the big wide world to its regularly-changing themes.

Why am I mentioning it now? Well, obviously, because I’ve just had something published there. And I’m really excited about it.

It’s a bit of a new departure for me, entirely inspired by the current editors, Dave Bonta and Beth Adams. For the previous theme, short shorts they asked me to submit an image in response to a piece of writing – Fish by Zhoen. So I did, and I’m reproducing it below. (I also, incidentally, contributed some words to that theme.)


It’s my first attempt at both responding visually to someone else’s work and at making something rather than taking a straightforward picture. I’m still absurdly pleased with the result and use it as my avatar on all possible occasions even though for most purposes the image ends up so small as to be unreadable.

So right now the theme at qarrtsiluni is education and I was asked to respond to the most amazing piece of writing – Professor Lucifer in the Arena of Angels – by the poet Karl Elder.

You’ll see from reading it that it’s absolutely stuffed full of multi-layered images and meaning, and I had a brilliant time pulling stuff together. In fact most of the elements of the most recent image are from my recent holiday on the Island of Arran and Holy Isle. The brain (not a real one) was taken on my trip to Montreal earlier this year and the glorious darling Maizy who flies in triplicate across the sky did so originally on the beach in France last summer.

It would be so exciting if anybody else felt moved to make an image in response to that poem, or any other writing. Or, of course, contribute more words for image-makers to respond to! Details of how to contact the editors are here.

Minor White


My lovely friend T introduced me to the photographs of Minor White this evening, thinking I would find him sympa. Boy oh boy. Crazy name, crazy amazing guy. He’s taken all the pictures I want to take. Dammit. Look at this, for instance. Have I not striven for just that image? Sigh.

One of his students was John Daido Loori: Author, Artist, Zen Master, a photographer and painter who creates as part of his Zen practice. It’s fascinating to discover these two artists just as I am paying attention to and exploring what I increasingly see as the spiritual practice of looking (and photographing), and the parallels between this and recovering from mental ill health.

The picture of the rock above is from this summer in Arran. Minor White took something very similar, so similar I actually squeaked while going through T’s book.

Most exciting of all? She was one of his students herself. We’re going to have to have a long, long child-free session with several bottles of wine one evening very soon.

Update – to be strictly accurate she was the student of one of his students. A second-generation Minor, as it were.

Time passes


Pretty isn’t always perfect. Or vice versa. At least so I like to think. Which is a roundabout way of introducing the sort-of incorporation of the previous incarnation.

Thanks to the ingenious brain of Mr Hg, much cappuccino and vast slices of very good carrot cake at the local wi-fi-ery, there are now archives dating back to the primordial sludge that was the inception of frizzyLogic, over there in the left-hand sidebar.

There’s nothing as complicated as a content management system or even a database since all that sort of useful stuff was destroyed. It’s a series of static html pages cunningly attempting to give the impression of a continuum. And there are very few images because of course the flickr account is gone beyond recall. But it’s better than a poke in the eye with the proverbial.

Coming along nicely

It would seem that things are beginning to fall into place. On a mac, using firefox or safari at least. Currently I need to try to

  • move the Global Voices image in the right-hand sidebar down to be level with the tops of the right and middle bits;
  • work out how wide pictures can be without making the page too wide for some screens;
  • make firefox my default browser so I can utilize the funky html gui on the posting page which doesn’t show up in safari;
  • work out why the listening links are orange and not turquoise;
  • get a spell checker ideally for posting and commenting;
  • try to link the entire header on mouse-over (is there a spell checker here? it didn’t like “mouseover”) rather than just the blog name;
  • find out if the old blog database can be resuscitated and whether the old entries can therefore be imported;
  • try to redirect this blog url to

Uh… that’s it! Not too much to do then.