Seeing as we’re skipping spring and going straight into summer and a mini heatwave, I thought this poem would be quite appropriate:
The last breeze they remember seemed
a lifetime ago, a legend passed down
through generations to regale a time
when they didn’t squirm beneath the arching sun
that melted their brains. Continue reading
I’m not very clued up when it comes to art. In fact, I’m probably more attuned to the works of Tony Hart and Rolf “Can you guess what is yet?” Harris than I am to any of the greats (not saying you’re not great, Rolf!).
Probably the only painting that has had much of an affect on me is Edvard Munch’s The Scream, and one of four prints made by the artist recently sold at auction for £74 million, which is just a little out of my price range – looks like I won’t be able to get shot of the Westlife poster covering the crack in the wall just yet!
Joking aside, this remains a very serious piece of art. For me the picture evokes feelings of fear and angst, something troubling that lurks within our frail human condition. Continue reading
I suppose we all have one, and even if it’s not written down on an official list it resides up there in grey matter, buffeted by a multitude of daily chores, soap-opera plots and countless other bits of mundane information, like this: there is approximately one chicken for every human being in the world. Which begs the question – whose have I been eating all this time?
Anyway, I’ve decided to write my bucket list down in this post, perhaps in the hope that by doing so it will provide an incentive to push myself harder to get to some of these places.
The first book I remember that truly inspired me was Readers Digest: Our Magnificent Wildlife. It presented a world of splendour and mystique, of a secrecy that man rarely glimpses. In later years I came across Jim fowler’s Wildest Places on Earth in a publishers clearance store. Continue reading