Two Old Posts—tarted up …

... with added illustrations https://rochereau.wordpress.com/2006/08/26/going-it-alone/ https://rochereau.wordpress.com/2007/04/27/16291/

More Posts from 2007

  https://rochereau.wordpress.com/2007/10/28/steppenwolf/ https://rochereau.wordpress.com/2007/03/26/flowers-of-grass/ https://rochereau.wordpress.com/2007/04/07/on-coombe-hill/ https://rochereau.wordpress.com/2007/05/02/ducklings/  

PS to my last: a nightmare project

From my notebook this morning: @ 6.30 I wake from a dream. I've been hired to work on a huge project in a vast atrium with futuristic architecture and split levels. mostly open plan like a crazy palace. But I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I've had no meaningful interaction with anyone—they're all…

I Can’t Write Like That Any More

My wife and I decided to "drop out" in 1970. The trigger was our friend Dudley Hargreaves, who'd spent his time since leaving university at a kibbutz in Israel, where they held everything in common and had little use for money, if I remember correctly. Having nowhere to stay in England, he dropped by for…

Some posts from 2008

https://rochereau.wordpress.com/2008/10/22/boundless/ https://rochereau.wordpress.com/2008/11/02/dress-code/ https://rochereau.wordpress.com/2008/02/23/the-snowdrop-garden/ https://rochereau.wordpress.com/2008/02/29/belonging/ https://rochereau.wordpress.com/2008/03/09/bus-station/ https://rochereau.wordpress.com/2008/03/23/ant-slug/  

Posts from 2007

https://rochereau.wordpress.com/2007/12/01/elemental-2/ https://rochereau.wordpress.com/2007/11/28/not-doing-and-not-writing/ https://rochereau.wordpress.com/2007/11/30/preferring-the-old-telephones/

Letters From Babylon, 14th Jan to 10th Feb 2007

https://rochereau.wordpress.com/2007/01/24/mission-to-babylon/ https://rochereau.wordpress.com/2007/03/07/renouncing-the-partial/ https://rochereau.wordpress.com/2007/02/12/exposed-hanging-on/ https://rochereau.wordpress.com/2007/02/10/witchcraft/  

Four More Rescued Posts

If only I could write like this today ... https://rochereau.wordpress.com/2013/05/27/dreaming-of-paris/ https://rochereau.wordpress.com/2011/12/15/in-memory-of-george-whitman-1913-2011/ https://rochereau.wordpress.com/2011/08/11/capturing-the-moment/ https://rochereau.wordpress.com/2011/07/31/life-illusion/

Rescued From the Past — 3

https://rochereau.wordpress.com/2010/05/15/climb-the-lowest-mountain/ https://rochereau.wordpress.com/2013/03/04/hope/  

More Posts Rescued from the past

https://rochereau.wordpress.com/2010/08/17/panspermia/ https://rochereau.wordpress.com/2011/12/29/scintillating-scotoma/  

Eternity in the City

Another reconstructed post: original is here [This was written in the early Nineties and published on a website, before the dawn of blogs.] Cloistered all day, I had forgotten once again that an outside world existed. In a windowless office I saw no seasons, no day, no night. There was only harsh lighting, never switched…

The Panicky Sheep (Life’s Predicament)

Originally posted on 4th January 2010, corrupted since, now restored Woke up this morning to recall that it’s my first ordinary day for weeks. I've emerged from a season of interruptedness, in which celebration took the form of reuniting with family; not all at once in a single gathering but serially; noting my kinship and…

Three Love Sonnets

Please share your thoughts. Which do you like best or least, and why? My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red than her lips' red; If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damasked,…

Liking or commenting

Back in the day, there were usually comments on my posts, e.g. the one on the Book of Gilgamesh, which had 50, and  Time Consumes, Art Distils , which had 12. These days there are no comments, only Likes, by bloggers I'm following or have seen my posts on Facebook, Instagram or X Twitter. You'll notice…

The Phoenix Trail

first published on 17th Feb 2011, photos restored today The trail largely follows the route of a disused railway line, the Wycombe Railway, which connected Princes Risborough and Thame with the city of Oxford. The line through Thame remained open until 1991 to serve an oil depot based in the town. (Wikipedia) It's open to pedestrians, horses,…

The Charabanc of Trippers

previously published 13th May 2014 on Perpetual-Lab, somehow lost in transit I didn’t explain what happened to the book Wayfaring, which was briefly published under Creative Commons in pdf, before being withdrawn from free distribution. I feel no compulsion to give a reason, but here are two. (a) Uncertainty (b) a decision to postpone publication…

To Laurence Ferlinghetti

previously published on 20th May 2014, lost and restored today This is for you, dear poet of my youth, still 23 years and 21 days older than me (therefore 95), still here with the rest of us, enabling me to write this with a possibility it might reach you. I would say I’ve admired you…

Along the Phoenix trail

Originally published on 25th Feb 2011, before the photos got corrupted. Now restored It was the most spring-like day this year and the urge to be out in it without delay overcame lengthy consideration of where to go. I considered the Phoenix trail to be unfinished business (see post before last) because I hadn’t walked…

Then and Now continued

Dress Female Dress (1890 edition) It is well known that a loose and easy dress contributes much to give the sex the fine proportions of body that are observable in the Grecian statues, and which serve as models to our present artists, nature being too much disfigured among us to afford any such. The Greeks…

Enquire Within: Then and now

This morning one of the houses on Green Street left an open cardboard box full of books. only one was of interest to me: Enquire Within, by Moyra Bremner. I helped myself as intended by the owner. That's what we do round here. I've left things out myself on occasion, they don't stay long. I've…

The Golden Ball

Originally published on September 9th 2010, but got corrupted somewhere. Now restored to its original form  

I and Thou

Transcribed verbatim from a 9-page manuscript which I found on a bookshelf while looking for something else. It was written in early 2017, not long after I'd been diagnosed with CLL—Chronic lymphocytic leukemia, and before treatment with chemotherapy, which didn't work for me. For the last seven years I've been taking a daily pill (ibrutinib)…

Our Trip to Brussels in 2016

On 22 March 2016, two coordinated terrorist attacks in and close to Brussels, Belgium, were carried out by the Islamic State (IS). Two suicide bombers detonated bombs at Brussels Airport in Zaventem just outside Brussels, and one detonated a bomb on a train leaving Maelbeek/Maelbeek metro station in the European Quarter of Brussels. Thirty-two people…

Who was Fernando Pessoa?

Here are three fragments posthumously found in his trunk: I've reached the point where tedium is a *person, the incarnate fiction of my own company The outer world exists like an actor on stage: it's there but is something else. ... and everything is an incurable illness. The indolence of feeling, the frustration of never…

The Book of Disquiet, continued . . .

I've here chosen some excerpts from my Kindle version of the complete manuscripts found in the trunk in his Lisbon apartment after his death. The Richard Zenith paperback version makes careful selections, and it's easy to find examples worth reproducing by turning real pages. I had a first go at it in my earlier post.…

The Book of Disquiet . . .

. . . to be continued in my next Fernando Pessoa's book is my favourite of all time, and I'd like to share with you some of the things I love his writing for and revere the man, not just the author, for his profound insights about life, the world and everything. He achieved this…

Lucid Waking

first published on 15th March 2017 I see things as imbued with meaning, like fragments written in a foreign language. Sometimes I can decipher them; sometimes even put them in English. For instance, from my bedroom window I can see the Victorian factory opposite. I wake as the early sun catches its gable ends. As…

a Moment Captured in Time

  Originally drafted 7th January 2007 on "perpetual-lab" in Blogger and never  published there.  Sometimes I wonder if I’ve chosen eccentricity as an alternative spiritual path. I was encouraged down this track by reading John Cowper Powys, who I consider to be the greatest novelist in English of the twentieth century, despite being hardly known.…

an american speaks about hungary in 1956

THANKSGIVING (1956) a monstering horror swallows this unworld me by you as the god of our fathers' fathers bows to a which that walks like a who but the voice-with-a-smile of democracy announces night & day `all poor little peoples that want to be free just trust in the u s a' suddenly uprose hungary…

A Voice Through a Cloud—2

Here are some more pages, copied for our enjoyment of Denton Welch's fictional autobiography. I can copy more if I get positive comments. "Likes" are easy bribes to get readers to visit their sites. (Nothing wrong with that: Google needs dollars so as to offer its magnificent search engine free.) He began quietly to X-ray…

A Voice Through a Cloud—1

This book is one of my favourites of all time. bought another copy and enjoyed re-reading it when recently confined to my hospital bed. The first time I read it I believed it was all true, and marvelled at the detailed precision of his memories. There's nothing in the book that indicates otherwise, until you…

“response to Gentle eye’s comments” – further update

Previously written in early July '23 in a rough and ready form, a few days before  admission to Stoke Mandeville Hospital/ Extensively corrected today, with additional material . "Much dependence on morphine, codeine, paracetamol and tramadol. "What I said about convalescent home and part time nurse was a disguise of the facts. Dunno why. Oh…

Tirade against the Cretinocracy

Reading this book has helped liberate me from an obscure species of writer's block: see my underlinings below. It's also fun to read an iconoclast who likes to break the rules of what's currently acceptable to say: see the paragraph at bottom in burnt orange. Bu I wouldn't dream of imitating him outside these four…

Traherne 3, by Denise Inge

Edited from this article in the Church Times The poetry of Thomas Traherne (written sometime before his death in 1674) has often seemed purely and innocently devotional in comparison with that of George Herbert, John Donne, or Richard Crashaw, poets whose religious work, at least occasionally, is sexually explicit. ‘Until recently’, Denise Inge comments in…

Thomas Traherne Centuries, 1

Author’s inscription on the first leaf of CENTURIES OF MEDITATIONS This book unto the friend of my best friend As of the wisest Love a mark I send, That she may write my Maker’s prais therin And make her self thereby a Cherubin. An empty book is like an Infant’s Soul, in which anything may…

Museum Without Walls . . .

. . . by Jonathan Meades Just reading the first couple of pages inspires this blogger who isn't much read these days, and whose orange notebooks are not read by anybody—except perhaps their author, once in a while

Not what we were taught at school …

"Eureka!" Now he can't wait to tell the world

Confession of an Inky-fingered writer

Iwasgoing to throwaway my keyboardbut it still works if you hit the spacebar near the middle. A good way to slow down and think what you write. I'mobsessed with fountain pens. This more than anything else is probably my reason for scribbling voluminous notes in dozens of  orange notebooks in a near-illegible style. There’s also…

A Little Lower than the Angels

Thou madest him a little lower than the angels; thou crownedst him with glory and honour, and didst set him over the works of thy hands: Thou hast put all things in subjection under his feet. For in that he put all in subjection under him, he left nothing that is not put under him.…

The Testament of Light (1)

PREFACE In this anthology, though for the sake of convenience it bears another title, the thread of an earlier argument is resumed: the three sentences of Chekhov which closed the first volume provide the prelude to the second. The Pattern of Courtesy differs from The Testament of Light not in spirit or general aim, but somewhat in…

The Pattern of Courtesy

Gerald Bullett was born in London  . . . and educated at Jesus College, Cambridge. During the Second World War he worked for the BBC in London, and after the war was a radio broadcaster. Bullett also contributed to the Times Literary Supplement. Politically, Bullett described himself as a "liberal socialist" and claimed to detest…

Freud and superstition

I'm cataloguing my bookshelves, and was attracted to this one by its cover showing cards from the Tarot pack. Just as I was  years ago when I bought it from a stall in the Old Amersham Market. The author quotes Freud in these words: Our patient was to a high degree superstitious, and this although…

Gratitude

I am now face to face with dying, but I am not finished with living. Foreword IN THIS QUARTET OF ESSAYS, written in the last two years of his life, Oliver Sacks faces aging, illness, and death with remarkable grace and clarity. The first essay, "Mercury," written in one sitting just days before his eightieth…

Awakenings, Part 2

This is my favourite piece of writing ever. I make no apologies for reproducing it here in full, but give thanks to the the copyright holder Oliver Sacks, © 1985, who died in 2015. Rebecca was no child when she was referred to our clinic. She was nineteen, but, as her grandmother said, 'just like…

Awakenings

Last night we watched Awakenings on Netflix: a moving portrait of inmates in a secure mental hospital in the Bronx. Dr Sayers, pictured below with his patient after successful treatment, plays the part of neurologist Oliver Sacks. The inmates are all suffering from encephalitis lethargica, a mysterious disease  described in Wikipedia as attacking the brain,…

International Strips

English Childhood Comics, from Mine to Yours

 

For Elderly Readers, to explain to your Grandchildren

 

Speak to us of Carpeting

 

The Practice of Compassion

originally published on Wednesay 9th September 2014 The hotel where we stayed in Dublin stands on a crossroads. Facing it are: The Patriots Inn The Richmond Tower, gateway to the Irish Museum of Modern Art (IMMA) the Kilmainham Gaol. We arrived on foot from our house in England, aided by 2 buses and a plane…

Visit to Dalkey in 2014

  "The James Joyce Tower and Museum is a Martello tower in Sandycove, Dublin, where James Joyce spent six nights in 1904.[1] The opening scenes of his 1922 novel Ulysses take place here, and the tower is a place of pilgrimage for Joyce enthusiasts, especially on Bloomsday. Admission is free. The novel starts like this:…

Running a Half Marathon?

I just sent my son this  book for his 58th birthday. from the Oldie Magazine "The propensity for humans to intentionally put themselves through pain never ceases to amaze. Whilst the pursuit of euphoria through physical exertion is a noble one, the fact the attitude persists in a society which encourages, nay endorses, convenience and…

The Mysterious Stranger in Gerrards Cross

Here's a post from Bedroom 42 I thought worth a revisit: The Secret Life of Strangers  

Working for Volt Delta Europe Ltd

As an American company, VoltDelta didn't  just have Dress Down On Friday, it had Donut Day, not just on June 4th but every Friday. One fresh doughnut, English style, per employee.  As a newbie I was told where to queue up. Invariably there were some not in the office that day, or didn't want them,…

High Voltage

I was working under contract to an American company Volt Delta between June and August 1997. I wouldn't have remembered these dates had it not been for an extraordinary phenomenon just yards from our door in High Street, Egham, Surrey. There was a round wooden bench, big enough to seat 6 people without them encroaching…

Manuela—Not looking for Love Anymore

This is the final photo in my series. As I've said this project is about looking for connection, not romance. Women are taught to talk with each other about romance the same way men are taught not to talk about their feelings. There are whole industries hinging on women's obsession with romance. The amount of…

Goddess

I know I said I just wanted to be accepted, but I've been thinking about it, and I want to be accepted for my whole self AND treated like a goddess - which I think this photo neatly captures. I'm done with the: 'I'm so low maintenance and I don't need you to put any…

Manuela on the Chase

This one is about when someone tries really hard to make you fall for them and then loses interest when you let your guard down. I've been on both sides of this and it's not fun or nice.

Manuela on Romance

Manuela on Being Accepted

A good few years ago I was angstily listening to The Stone Roses' 'I wanna be adored' and I realised I wanted to be absolutely worshipped. I told my boyfriend at the time who said something nice about how he did already. But I was pretty insecure, and I wanted him to give me so…

Manuela’s Hoop Earrings

This whole series came from this poster which was a play on the white van man posters you find taped to street lamps with the rip-off phone numbers. I was thinking about the idea of someone having a physical 'type' that they exclusively go for and how bizarre that is. I think people who have…

Manuela Not Forgetting to Play

I think the saddest thing about growing up is the self-consciousness which stops us from expressing ourselves like kids do. The other day I was jogging and so badly wanted to spin and leap and stretch my arms out. Sometimes I'll run down the hill and pretend to look a little worried as if I'm…

Manuela’s Pure Genius

Last summer I worked with my dad who's a gardener. It's really physically hard work but I enjoyed it. He'd have me cutting back brambles and mowing lawns and my personal favourite—leaf blowing. The idea for this sign came to me in a flash. Pure unadulterated genius! I probably even laughed incredulously out loud to…

Manuela on Being Alive

I've rewritten this so many times and it always feels like I've said the wrong thing. Being alive is hard, so being excited about it isn't an option for a lot of people. Objectively I know that, but when I was planning this photo, I was thinking back to how difficult it is when people…

Manuela puts herself out there

I actually don't want to escape; but I feel like I should want to. When I was a little I remember being really scared about starting new classes or clubs - anything new. I couldn't read yet and I was embarrassed of people finding out so I told my mum that I would go to…

Manuela Amey on Being Scared of Love

I don't want to paint myself as a long-suffering victim of unreasonable boys because it's not the whole truth and I've done my fair share of being selfish and unkind. I think we all start out open-hearted and wanting to love as that's what we wired to do both platonically and romantically. But being that…

Manuela’s Dreams of Looking for a Man

The well-read amongst you will know this is a reference to the cornerstone of romance novels: Pride and Prejudice. Though, perhaps you're like me and have only watched the film and BBC series with Colin Firth, co-starring his incredibly beautiful smile (worth a google). If you're ever feeling heartbroken or feel like your happiness is…

The Kon-Tiki Expedition in Pictures

   

My Kon-Tiki Expedition

There are two alcoves at the back of the pub, each with a table and benches for four. The one at the right is devoted to showbiz, biographies and reminiscences of actors. But the vacant alcove yesterday was the left-hand one. It has a mixed bag of mainly tattered books: fiction, travel, memoirs (not showbiz)…

Manuela on Being a Criminal, Loving Porridge, Seeking Connection

For this series I had to do a few extremely illegal things -mostly mild trespassing, punishable with a stern telling off from a security guard. I wanted to take one of the photos at the top of my art building, but the gate to the fire escape is padlocked and the only way in is…

Manuela Amey* on Advertising Yourself

"This project is a parody of the personal ads found in newspapers. I think they are funny and sweet and desperately earnest. For this series I painted posters and banners, writing on them what I was looking for in a partner. I would hold the signs up in public like a huge, off-screen dating profile,…

Getting Out of Bed

"Cauda Equina Syndrome is a very rare but serious condition, where the bundle of nerves called the Cauda Equina at the bottom of the spine get compressed. The Cauda Equina control the function of the bladder and bowel, and the sensation to the skin of the genitals and bottom area. The most common cause of…

Rumours—and Resignation

When I wrote this in March this year, it was prompted by finding I had a duplicate CD. But there's an interesting story of my months working there which remains vivid in my mind but never written up in any form. In the end it was  humiliating, to the point where I pleaded ill-health, and…

Smartphones for the Very Unsmart

Full page ad from the Oldie: If I wasn't a lazy octogenarian I'd sue the advertising dept of the Oldie guilty of whatever law it is that guards the innocent from con tricks. On the positive side, their innocence might be transformed by experience, which is no bad thing.

Entertainment for the Elderly

Well I'm one and I find it fun, worth my annual subscription. There are serious literary articles, readers' letters and a regular section called "Pursuits": Gardening, Kitchen Garden (this month on growing Beetroot), Cookery, Restaurants, Drink, Sport, Motoring. None of which interest me in the slightest. But there's entertainment too, whether intended or otherwise .…

Greenhayes Across the Years

These old photos have been put online mainly for family, but regular readers of Wayfarer's may be interested too . . . Mark in 1955 “Is it legal to take stones from the massive deposits lying around the mountains? If it is illegal then who should I contact to collect said stones?” “No, it would…

“Better at Home”—without carers twice a day

I'd been an inpatient at Stoke Mandeville Hospital for a procedure performed by a spinal surgeon, Mr Blagg Cauda equina syndrome is a rare and severe type of spinal stenosis where all of the nerves in the lower back suddenly become severely compressed. . . It requires emergency hospital admission and may require emergency surgery,…

Happy Birthday Mary

Some pictures of Hastings that you and I will recognize from childhood. Much has changed since, I'm sure. Welcome to Memory Lane!  . . .and there's a cave, long abandoned but didn't smell nice when I looked in as a child

My Best Film – Ever

I was 13, staying at Granny's house in Springfield Road, St Leonards-on-Sea. I lived on the Isle of Wight, but sometimes went there in the Christmas holidays. It was a rainy evening when I went to see the film, always on my own - I had no friends there.

The Handyman, by Brian Spaeth

I am a handyman. No, that is not really accurate—I flatter myself—a real handyman would, at the very least, have a business card, a roster of clients, some form of advertising, and maybe a car or small truck to get around town and to carry tools and supplies. I possess none of these things—therefore I…

Mom’s Sunflowers

Grown in Mom's garden cut for us yesterday Mom and Vincent lounging on sofa. Photo by Karleen

In Town Today

It was actually a week ago. I didn't have time to finish it same day. Will try and do better when some new adventure seems worthy of chronicling in my octogenarian life. But things are changing. Muscles are strengthening daily. My Australian father made it to 100 not out, retired from life at 101. I…

Nature’s Infallible Rules . . .

You lose something and you tell your house-mate. She says, in my case Karleen, " Where did you have it last?"or perhaps "When?" Then you say "well I don't know, I only just realized I don't have it," referring to something precious, in this case the glasses I use all day except for close work…

How Authors wrote in 1953

In that year, I was a voracious reader of war books published in Pan This wasn't one of them but I've mentioned others elsewhere, such as The Naked Island:   The  language of these pages fills me with nostalgia for a world I'd never lived in as an adult: the literary circles in London