butterflies/moths

the pit of your stomach becomes the centre of wild activity.
butterflies and moths wreaking havoc with your equanimity.
uncertainty makes the cocooned insects of insecurity break free and dance.

from the street VI (reconstructed)

a man stands in a corner, asking passing women for a date, despair and madness twisting his face.
children young enough to be mine blow kisses, feeling bold and sexy, from the back of a soon-to-be-extinct bus.
a girl walks around town, tears streaming down her face, unnoticed.
gay men shout the latest shopping news into their mobile phones.
buses nearly collapse into each other, horns are blown.
a small man paces to and fro in amongst the lff crowd.
a girl stands on a bridge, listening to the violinist, smiling at the peanut-seller.
a boat floats by, carrying a cargo of glammed-up drunken dancing ladies.
goths discuss the vagaries of the weather, blending into the halloween atmosphere.
a girl stands in a corner, blogging. the post never makes it to its destination.
sigh. london town.

sleeping patterns II

9 hours sleep.

bit headache-y, but brimming with satisfaction for having won the battle against insomnia.
at least once.

paranoia

when i was a child, my mother told me, i couldn't sleep in a room where there was a face watching me. this eventually developed into an aversion to anything vaguely resembling a face: watches, some paintings, certain fruits. in their presence the child won't sleep.

later on as an adolescent, i went through a period of time where i just couldn't sleep at all. i would turn in my bed, read into the night, walk bleary eyed through the day, be gruff and confused. one day i worked out what it was: a coat hanging on a door, looked like the shape of a man, watching me, stalking me. i removed the coat, and sleep came back.

a sudden memory: in a classroom, having to come up with examples of different tenses and conjugations in the passive form in english, the only verb i could think of was "to watch": i am being watched, i was watched, i was being watched, i have been watched, i will be watched, i have been being watched...

low level distress

heart thumping wakes you up. ticking bomb inside your chest. open and close your eyes. wine swimming around your cells. shadows lengthen. witchcraft time. will you become a dead butterfly? or fly high into the void?

every story has...

every story has...
Originally uploaded by ladelentes.

the question is trying to work out which point of the story you're at at any given time.

weightlessness

sea gulls float mysteriously up into the rain. i look up, follow the vague drifting. sigh, keep walking.

balletic

autumn leaves start falling upwards, defying gravity, flowing on a friendly wind. the man moves up into the air, extends and arm, and in a seamless motion catches a leaf in mid-flight.

then he puts it in his pocket: something to remember berlin by.

berlin

it´s hard to tell where it´s east and where it´s west.

or where is north or south, for that matter.

life as we know it

canal
Originally uploaded by ladelentes.

you think everything is clear and well defined, and suddenly a couple of random ducks swim by and shatter the still surface of normality...

life is tough

he stopped over and asked for some change. as i didn't have any, i thought i'd give him some time instead.

he told me he came from scotland. that his sister and brother were both blond. that it was very difficult having a piss when there were no public toilets...

just the other week, off-duty policeman on a day out in the park with his children caught him having a pee behind some bushes and booked him for "indecent exposure". can you believe?

sleeping patterns

waking up at 5 every day. hanging on in bed til 6. doing yoga until 7. leaving the house at 8.

i have gained:
- time
- exercise
- dawns

mirror

it seems to me these days, that my heart is invisibly wired to a switch in the weather factory.

beat, a dull day.
beat, out comes the sun.
beat, on goes the fog.

polaroids

tiny crab apples scattered on the street
---------------

a strange vehicle coming through the fog. sound first, seen only when almost upon you. like in one of those apocalyptic future movies
---------------

fog droplets breaking the cloak of invisibility of a million spiderwebs, creating a bejeweled necklace for an otherwise very prosaic black fence
---------------

a silent walk down the canal, punctuated by the sporadic ringing of bicycle riders
---------------

fog, fog and more fog.

it must be said

two girls in a slinky sports car. a man in a land rover. a junction. the land rover turns into the road that the slinky sports car is turning out of. it stops, doesn't move forward. traffic is blocked in all directions. blond girl winds down the window. the man wants to tell us something. there must be something wrong with the car? no.
he just wants to tell us that "the blond and the brunette are both looking gorgeous this morning"

baby wisdom

having heard tales too old for her young eyes. witnessed mother and friend jumping and laughing for no apparent reason. seen the friend loose herself in thoughts and whispers. the baby frowned, shooke her curls, pointed at the friend and said to the mother, in danish: look at the monkey!

anger management

100... 90... 80... 70... 60... 50... 40... 30... 20... 10... 1
much better.

sonnet CXVI by mister shakespeare

this one has been following me around of late:

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

metamorphosis

news come of disasters further afield.

hurricanes keep threatening the world (we're onto the last alphabetical name already, and the year's not yet out...). earthquakes wreak havoc with the smallest lives. friendships erupt into volcanic furies. relationships explode into smithereens.

maybe it all started with a tsunami. maybe it will all end sometime soon. maybe we will all be reborn after this turmoil, changed, new, beautiful.

winston churchill said:

"The era of procrastination is coming to a close; in its place we are entering a period of consequences"

there.
we've been told.

from the street V

one amongst many.

purveyor of hugs, kisses, and reassurances. kudos after the last round. protected and protective.

guys waltz around me. preoccupied with their own deals. giving and getting without giving it a second thought...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This iPlus Freemail has been sent to you by someone using an online iPlus Point at Highbury Place, Islington.
iPlus is brought to you by Cityspace Ltd, Astley House, 33 Notting Hill Gate, London W11 8JQ.
Cityspace cannot guarantee the authenticity of the sender or be held responsible for the contents of the email.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

technology creep

a girl finishes adjusting her head on the pillow. she finds the perfect position. she sighs, closes her eyes, gets ready to sleep. an itch makes her move involuntarily. her first instinct is to think "press: undo"

elsewhere, a boy thinks to himself he would like to "fast forward" to see what will happen in his life.

another girl, in another part of the city, wants to "zoom in" to life, to experience and enjoy the smallest details, to find the final pixel of truth.

yet another child wants to "freeze frame" this moment. life is moving too fast. must pause to find the centre again.

conversation in progress

conversation in progress
Originally uploaded by ladelentes.

the sub-comandante faints on learning that relationships cause as much confusion as politics.

or maybe it's because of the noxious cigarette fumes?
or the radiation from mobile technology?
or the shocking fact that someone's drinkig orangejuiceandlemonade, in a pub, in london?

from the street IV

london becomes smaller with every footstep. like a spiral of connected paths. the wireless lines that hold it together, invisible, revealed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This iPlus Freemail has been sent to you by someone using an online iPlus Point at Tottenham Court Road, Westminster.
iPlus is brought to you by Cityspace Ltd, Astley House, 33 Notting Hill Gate, London W11 8JQ.
Cityspace cannot guarantee the authenticity of the sender or be held responsible for the contents of the email.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

from the street III

a man lies in a pool of his own blood. attacked by persons unknown.
the moon is some way towards completing its monthly cycle, unperturbed.
i ask, is the ambulance coming. what else to do?
hard facts, hard town.
i hope he'll be ok. as will i.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This iPlus Freemail has been sent to you by someone using an online iPlus Point at Highbury Place, Islington.
iPlus is brought to you by Cityspace Ltd, Astley House, 33 Notting Hill Gate, London W11 8JQ.
Cityspace cannot guarantee the authenticity of the sender or be held responsible for the contents of the email.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

natural observers

flowers press their noses on the meeting room window. they peer into the room, they listen to all the nonsense. they despair that nature has given them this position. natural observers of human wastefulness.

uncertainty

look at the world in a day like this: everything's so muted.
a uniform lead sky, heavy on top of the city.
trees half-covered with wilted leaves that lost their shine.
skinny kids running around, mirthlessly.
tired old london girls, sucking on their morning fags, make-up stiff on their faces.
your footsteps don't make a sound. everything hushed.
wonderful day to close your eyes and fade away.

from the street II

dancing. how did it disappear?

and then, as if by magic, there it is again. just relax, and let the music take you over. let your body do the writing, for a change, passion spelled out on the dancefloor, amidst the smiles, the sweat, and the tears.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This iPlus Freemail has been sent to you by someone using an online iPlus Point at Highbury Place, Islington.
iPlus is brought to you by Cityspace Ltd, Astley House, 33 Notting Hill Gate, London W11 8JQ.
Cityspace cannot guarantee the authenticity of the sender or be held responsible for the contents of the email.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

from the street

standing at a kiosk. the wonders of technology...

nothing to say. just hear the bullet-like sound of the words against the swoosh of highbury traffic...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This iPlus Freemail has been sent to you by someone using an online iPlus Point at Highbury Place, Islington.
iPlus is brought to you by Cityspace Ltd, Astley House, 33 Notting Hill Gate, London W11 8JQ.
Cityspace cannot guarantee the authenticity of the sender or be held responsible for the contents of the email.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

urban landscapes

scanning the sky for shooting-stars, through the smoke in my cigarette, through the glimmer of city lights.

faint traces appear in the sky, criss-crossing white slow-motion trails. pulsing little lights scattering in all directions.

make a wish of travel to these urban shooting-stars and it will surely come true.

adventures

open the door, come out into the street, start a blog, meet your friends, write a book, swim with piranhas, make a cocktail, fall in love, dance the salsa, paint your room, travel across the ocean, make your own burgers, get on a bus, open your eyes, cook a lasagna, fall out of love, get a job, make a music compilation, send a postcard, go for a pint, hang out with a crazy dog, move in, learn to drive, shoot a film, listen to urban birdsong, wear a dress, read some books, do yoga, kiss with your eyes open, grow your hair, put a play on, close your eyes, run up to the top of a volcano, ride your bike, visit a temple in the jungle, take some photographs, teach a class, move out, go camping, smoke some grass, make a best-man speech, row away on a boat, sing aloud in the tube, jump into a fountain, look at someone straight in the eye. life is always an adventure.

a moment

crossing the road next to a stranger, and both breaking into that silly half-run thing to avoid being run over by a huge bus, sharing the moment, and then not acknowledging it at all.

vive la grand bretagne!

See more progress on: find at least one thing each day that makes me happy

eclipse

the word eclipse comes from a Greek word meaning "abandonment".

the sun leaves the earth alone, to fend for itself, but only for a short while.

the sun just needs a little break. it feels burdened sometimes with all the responsibility. all the hopes and dreams. all the expectations.

so off it goes, quite literally riding into the dark. to be by itself. to have a little time.

and then it comes back, gingerly, from behind its hideaway. and the earth sighs, shakes its head and smiles.

ambiguous

as i walked into the street, clutching the keys to my new (temporary) home, a huge cheer rose up in the air.

it took me a second to work out it was the crowd at the nearby stadium.

what i couldn't tell was whether the goal had been for or against...

spirals

down down, up up, left left, right right. where is the anchor?

worst suspicions confirmed

sherlock holmes like i deduced:

• rodents like nuts.
• a packet of nuts that has been left lying around, open, for the best part of the week.
• the packet has been lying on the sidetable, on the sofa and on the floor at various points.
• the quantity of nuts, and arrangement of the packet have only been disturbed in a manner consistent with human untidyness.

ergo: there are no rodents in this house, none at all, no, no, no.

a couple of days ago, we put the full weight of the english language on top of the only visible hole in our floorboards. just in case, y'know.

today, encouraged by a 48 hour silence, and prodded by curiosity, i move the dictionaries aside.

there, in the hole, staring at me, glaring even, is the packet of nuts i had thought the other human in the house had tidied away.

tortícolis

it's when you wake up, your neck is locked, and therefore you cannot help but to look at life a little sideways.