It's a dog's life

I wish I was elegantly, casually long-limbed; that my bed was next to the radiator; that I was gorgeously photogenic and, most of all, that if I made a particular breathy whistling whine someone would come and tuck me up under my soft fleecy blanket.

it's a dog's life - 1

it's a dog's life - 2

it's a dog's life - 3

it's a dog's life - 4

it's a dog's life - 5

It’s a dog’s life

I wish I was elegantly, casually long-limbed; that my bed was next to the radiator; that I was gorgeously photogenic and, most of all, that if I made a particular breathy whistling whine someone would come and tuck me up under my soft fleecy blanket.

it's a dog's life - 1

it's a dog's life - 2

it's a dog's life - 3

it's a dog's life - 4

it's a dog's life - 5

The first frost of autumn

It crusted the car roofs in the shade, twinkled in the low orange-yellow sunlight as it slipped meltingly to gleaming.

I woke with a sense of lightness not just from the uncurtained windows. An internal buoyancy of self-belief.

This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Farewell; my blessing season this in thee!

Polonius was a buffoon and of course came to a perforated-lugged-guts end but the words endure.

being and not being

The earth moves, the shadows lengthen and shorten, disappear; the frost forms and melts; the water evaporates and condenses, forms clouds which quell the shadows, seed the frost. All changes. All remains the same. All is. And all is not. That is all I know, and all I need to know.

Three browns and three golds

My proud phallic lens (a “pro” lens) has been reclaimed by its original owner. Luckily I anticipated this eventuality and held back a kit lens (aka “bog standard”) from the great camera equipment sell-off. The former, whilst obviously both proud, fondlable and very phallic, was rather heavy. High quality equals lots of glass. The latter whilst of considerably lesser dimensions is concomitantly light and thus easier for my puny hands and wrists to tote about. I have, however, lost 24mm (in 35mm terms) of focal length (ie the old one zoomed in a bit further) and I’m having to get used to that lack. But it means getting in closer and cropping in harder.

bindweed

bowed

in the gutter, bedewed with diamonds

It was a beautiful sunny morning. I loitered through the park on the return leg of the morning school run while Maizy pulled and puffed on the end of the lead, teased beyond endurance by squirrels, pigeons and parrots who chittered, strutted and shrieked just beyond her range, heedless of her reputation as a fearless hunter.

look at me!

two leaves

trapped

Luckily the park is full of railings to which I can attach her so she doesn’t jog the camera. These, and more, can be seen here.

Brilliance. In two parts.

Part I. Brilliant Coroners.

I have edited a book of poetry.

What an extraordinary statement to make. Also an inaccurate one. I co-edited a book of poetry with my dear friend the Velveteen Rabbi. She did most of the work and provided the brilliance. I opted to go camping at the critical moment in circumstances where “wireless” referred to an apparatus with which one might tune in and listen to radio broadcasts using twiddly knobs rather than ethereal, fast, always-on access to the internet.

For on the internet was the project germinated, on the internet was it gestated and from the internet might it be acquired, fully formed. Or, as the information on the publisher‘s site puts it considerably more elegantly:

Writers and artists have always formed groups for mutual support, commentary, and encouragement, sometimes collaborating on public projects from group shows to hand-printed literary magazines. But while one tends to think of local writers hanging out in Paris cafés in the 1930s, or on the lower East side of New York in the 1950s, how does that desire for communication and creative inspiration translate into today’s online world? The poets and visual artists of this anthology met online through their blogs, and have corresponded for a number of years, across continents and oceans.

It’s one of the most rewarding things I have done. Printing off a great swathe of poems and reading them with minute critical attention whilst also being attuned to the writers themselves. It didn’t impede the task but rather enhanced it. So too did the knowledge of and absolute confidence in my hugely talented and experienced co-editor, Velveteen Rachel, who has an all-inclusive post about the book. It was a collaborative effort throughout with artwork, design, layout – everything you can imagine going into the production of such an object – being undertaken by members of the group. It is, on so many levels, a labour of love.

Brilliant Coronors

It’s for sale too!

Part II. d’Arbrilliance.

The wonderful and extraordinarily multi-talented Natalie d’Arbeloff  (who not only has a poem in the volume above but of course has also recently published The God Interviewshas just won a prestigious competition, to celebrate 50 years of the Guardian‘s women’s pages. See Natalie’s accounts by scrolling down to entries for 5, 7, 8 and 10 November. And for her pain (that inflicted by the party boots) she gets to edit the section for a week. I can hardly wait to see what she’s going to do. And what she thinks of the experience.

I like the movement implied in these two disparate shining things. The interplay between “old” media and “new”. Writers and artists exploring “new” ways to produce and distribute an “old” media product; a writer and artist immersed in the “new” bringing her talents to the “old”.

Tantalising twitter

Twitterrific

having…

snotty noses?
tiny brains?
bad taste?
fat butts?
herpes?
boils?

ah

no.

None of the above.

Oh FFS seems the most suitable response.

Now you see them, now you don't

Or vice versa. I’m talking of the banner image and the whitish page background. Both images, both defined in the stylesheet. Only not to the satisfaction of internet explorer.

So I fiddled and succeeded in making them disappear in firefox too. I’ve fiddled again. They’ve reappeared in firefox. Any sign of them in internet explorer? or is it still all-over grey with a blue topping?

Secondspawn was finally well enough to go back to school today… but firstspawn was off. It’s a serial infirmary here. Who will be next, me or Maizy? She at least has heterosis in her favour, unlike the blasted “oriental breed” Cat who is no doubt suffering from inbreeding depression and will soon require a therapist of his own. Unfortunately Maizy’s lack lack of opposable thumbs (and various other qualities) will not, I fear, make the best of nurses should I succumb to the dreaded lurgy. I knew it was a mistake getting a dog. I knew I should have got a dolphin.