This little spider has been travelling with me for over a week now. I feel a duty of care for him/her. I try to stick to 30mph as any faster and I worry his web will blow apart. I have deliberately avoided washing the car despite it being covered in tree juice. He has an unnerving knack of rushing in behind the wing mirror when I am forced onto a faster road. There he sits - two feet sticking round the mirror, waiting for me to stop, then he quickly reappears. Perhaps this is like those who insist they are preserving a natural meadow instead of owning up to an overgrown garden. When I leave work I am glad to see he's still around, and drive him carefully home. I know he'll leave/die soon. I just hope he doesn't go to another car. I would feel quite offended.
For now he's carved out a niche on my Leon. Who am I to send him back into the Wilderness.
Some of my poems are here. "Sensual, political and, at times, wry, these poems herald some of the strongest voices in the North West, from both new and established poets."
Someone said I only talk about things I don't like. So here's more that I do...
listening to stories of WWII, people getting all serious about minutes, apologies and agenda items, little triangle sandwiches with the crusts cut off, getting to know new people and hearing something new, scientific terminology, biscuit to chocolate ratios, people who dress to match their building, sharks breach feeding, little boxes, the type of people who still send cards, post-its that stay stuck, giant calculators, cars like re-entry capsules, motionless engineering (fans not in use, desk lamps poised at an angle but not switched on), Alpaca, orderly pin-boards, being too young to remember stuff, the geological time scale, mugs with little pictures hidden inside, 03:17 still time to sleep, paintings by John William Waterhouse and the static smell of newly opened magazines.
Things I like
Working, photos (of piglets in particular), The Richter Scale, laminators, sugar, rows of red cars, banana days, Haribo Tangfastics, chocolate limes and Rhubarb Custards, Raymond Carver, writing melancholia, black Bic mediums, things from Paperchase, Wolves, wilderness, Sicilian trains, rocks that look like witches, driftwood, forearms, lists, creative business cards, irregular shaped postcards, right angles in clouds, smell of new books, national geographic front covers, candid photos, the patterned panel on the back of a payslip, working unbroken for an hour, adding things to CV, fast bikes, the BBC pips, flowers in macro, toucans and other top-heavy birds (!), peanut butter and marmite (sometimes together), pink wine, the letter B, the number 12, Mars Midnight, stars viewed in Norfolk, Bangladesh, Esmerelda in all her guises, gadgetry, wizardry, rabbits, SilvaC rabbits, discovering a link - cause and effect, low-lying cloud, memory foam, Lindemanns Bin 67 (2007), old John Paul Gaultier bottles, You Have 1 New Message, collecting things, rescuing sick animals from the street, sweet potato with Boursin, did I mention rabbits?
Things I don't like
Ginger, cockroaches, things that are larger than they really should be (airships, giant moths, tsunami's), buses, Lindemanns Bin 67 (2008), my abject lack of green-fingeredness, invisibility of people by society as they get older, celery, rubbing against wet paint, poor teaching, the sound of cotton wool, things that require an iron.
rating: 5 of 5 stars This is my favourite book of all time. I even have a tasty first edition, which is my pride and joy. It is a modern retelling of the story of Cupid and Psyche, but told from the perspective of Psyche's ugly sister, who also rules the kingdom they live in. The last time I read it was a long time ago and now as I write I can't tell you the ins and outs, I just know that the story is eternal and poignant and wonderfully atmospheric. You get transported to a strange world that is somewhere between reality and Tolkien's Middle Earth. Maybe I liked this because I could so strongly identify with the main character. When i first read this in my teens she represented everything I felt I was and everything I wanted to be. I wanted to be a strong, powerful woman but always felt like the ugly person in the room. This character transformed the way I viewed my own place in the world, through a beautifully stark narrative. C. S. Lewis is far more than religion and old Wardrobes. Read this if you want something timeless and beautiful without all the hype and sometimes dissapointment of the better known classics.
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