Category: AI Art
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4 July: Ten Things of Thankful
In no particular order: I’m thankful for the Eurasian Jay with its three young ones who visited me in the garden on Tuesday. Such a beautiful bird. I’ve not seen one in West Sussex before today. They were busily sucking up the ants who were readying to fly. The ants are flying, which is called…
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3 July: Marked
Marked (a reshuffled deck of marked cards) I. The Misfit GospelThey come unwashed. Overplayed.Rust in their lungs. Whiskey in their grief.The hymn starts low —a breath caught on glass —and still they kneel.Gamblers. Bruised palms openlike confession slips. II. Communion for SinnersThe bread’s dry.The wine tastes like railroad tracks.Take the body. Bite down.Blame’s baked in.Estranged…
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2 July: Fireworks for 100WW
Fireworks Hotdogs. Mustard. Mum’s potato salad — she always brought it to family dos. It was thick with mayo, heavy on onion, chopped eggs, cubed potatoes, and crushed saltine crackers. “Saltines are a southern thing,” she explained to my aunt, who, in turn, huffed that Mum wasn’t southern; she was more northern than Alaska. While…
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2 July: A Six – Brigid’s Journal
2 July: Left Scotland last night. Writing under the shadows of the monastic ruins of Lindisfarne, Northumbrian coast – aka Holy Island Arvet i Grönt – The Inheritance in Green The bowl was always there before I was, there resting in my grandmother’s lap like a second sun, heavy with stories it refused to spill.…
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2 July: A Six – Brigid’s Journal (revised)
2 July: Glen Affric, Scotland. Brigid leaves the Highlands with quiet hands and a storm behind her—what she carries now can’t be packed. Brigid Leaves the Highlands Brigid twists Connor’s ring from her finger; it clicks against the wooden table—a sound too small for such a leaving. This isn’t abandonment, it’s an offering to the…
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1 July: The Old Woman With No Cat
The Cat Creates a YouTube Account(a masterclass in digital anonymity) The cat, draped across the old woman’s keyboard in repose,begins typing.Slowly.Deliberately.With one claw. First: the username.sardinesupremacist — taken. Probably by the crow.knittingwithclaws — too obvious.notacattrustme — suspiciously defensive.fibreartistformerlyknownascat — perfect. The drama, the mystery, the disdain. Next: the password.ilovefish123! — hacked in two seconds. Amateur…
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1 July: A Six Sentence Story
12 of 27: Frostwrit – Affection Behind a Locked Jaw The Egg Song “Easy, be gentle, my girl,” her grandmother says, eyebrows knitting into a single grey line, “and remember what I taught you this morning — focus, centre yourself — now be quick, or she’ll peck your eyes out.” “Mothers will do that,” the…
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30 June: Frostwrit – The Liturgy
12 of 27 – Frostwrit – The Poem – Affection Behind a Locked JawA liturgy in six verses I.The Invocation of Knitted BrowsA grandmother’s voice stitches the air—a grey thread pulled tight between fear and fury.The hen’s feathers are not snow.They are the first frost,and the girl is learning to walk on ice. II.The Hiss…
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29.06: Wings & Elderflower
WARNING; MANY WILL FIND THIS VIDEO A HARD ONE TO WATCH. THE MUSIC IS BEAUTIFUL — TRUTH IS OFTEN NOT. Broken Wings and Elderflower The oaks unstitch the night,sunlight dripping through, honey-thick,and pooling in my footprints.It is liquid gold.And above, the warblers tasteof elderflower,their notes glinting like tossed pennies. I kneel into the coolness of…
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28 June: Ten Things of Thankful
In no particular order: The Tate Modern: A lovely morning amongst mobiles, and children discovering the joy of things that seem to fly through the air. (read about it here) Eating tomatoes and cucumbers from the greenhouse. That the garden survived (quite happily) without me while I was visiting family in Virginia, although I am…
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