Time Caught in Art Deco ~ Jez Farmer #writephoto

It seemed like a life time ago since I had made my way down the wonky lane to the little pink house looking out across the bay. Each step felt like a step into the past going further back in time. I looked up to the clock tower and wondered if that too was stuck in 1930 something.

Standing outside the pink house, I was pretty sure that was still in the 1930’s and I was ready to wager going inside would be a mingle of Art Deco wrapped in surrealistic imaginings. Part of me just didn’t want to go in, it had been too long. However, this was my inheritance, a gift from my great aunt, and soon to be my home.

Continue reading at About the Jez of It

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The fabric of being

We all know them, that handful of people who cling to a reactionary refusal to own a mobile phone… or turn it on when they do… or bother to check it. Or they don’t really like computers or social media. You can’t get hold of them, they pass their lives in a state of technological invisibility and you wonder how on earth they can survive…

Or… you secretly envy them their anonymity and accepted state of unavailability…

It is not so very long ago that communication was less intense, relying on ‘local’ calls and handwritten letters. The reliability of the mail was legendary, if slow, and such missives could be cherished or responded to in a timely fashion… say, a week or two. And that was okay. These days, ‘radio silence’ presses the panic buttons… people, including ourselves most of the time, expect an instant response. We have, very quickly, learned to live in a world that responds at the touch of a button and very often we seem to expect people to do the same. It is all about ‘now’.

Technological advances have not only changed our world, but our expectations, both of ourselves and others. We have, over the course of a couple of generations, seen a complete redesign of our daily lifestyles. We no longer have to beat carpets or black lead the range. Laundry is done, and even dried, at the touch of a button instead of the labour intensive wash-day that saw, even in my own childhood, coppers boiling, wash-boards and mangles at dawn and the flat irons heating in the embers of the black-leaded grate. Food no longer needs to be grown or prepared and ‘gourmet’ meals can be purchased ready-made from the supermarket chiller cabinet. And although, with the loss of cooking skills, the understanding of food and nutrition is being eroded, we can, of course, always take supplements…obviating even the need to chew.

Our days… assuming that our technologies are working as they should… have been freed of many constraints. We have more potential leisure time than we have ever had in the history of mankind… and many of us ironically turn to some kind of technological gadgetry with which to fill it. Meanwhile old skills are becoming obsolete… how many of us still know how to starch a shirt, for example? Do we need to know… do we even care? Most of us would emphatically answer in the negative… but are we really right to do so? Because it isn’t just the skills that are lost…

It isn’t exactly about how to dress a flawless shirt that crackles when you move… what I am thinking of here is the amount of care we put into the small, humdrum acts of daily life. The generations-old christening robe or wedding veil would not have survived this long had someone not learned to understand its fabric and spent time and effort on its care and preservation. With today’s wash-and-go fabrics, would we do the same? Do our email conversations hold the same place in our hearts as the bundle of faded, handwritten letters? Time and attention, a learned skill, a labour of love…

Continue reading at The Silent Eye

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Conjure ~ S. S. #writephoto

uncoloured futures

look fast forward in fantasy

painting rosy worlds

Continue reading at Mindfills

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Contrast #midnighthaiku

Motion and stillness

Contrast defining meaning

All one in the end

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Sam, A Shaggy Dog Story – Chapter One – In the Beginning by Sally Cronin

Reblogged from Sally Cronin. Do visit her blog for a new chapter on Sundays.

By special request I am sharing Sam, A Shaggy Dog Story as the next book for Sundays and I hope those of you who have not read his adventures will enjoy…

51uI0kWA+ML._UY250_Chapter One – In the Beginning.

I was only three weeks old when I first met my mistress on an unusually warm Irish spring day in May. I was busy drinking milk at the time and barely lifted my head when I heard voices in the back yard where I had lived since I was born.

It was warm and comforting lying next to my two sisters as we snuggled close to my mother’s fur and from time to time a gentle lick would dampen my fluffy coat lovingly.

I was already bigger than my sisters but my mother was determined that we should all be treated with the same care and attention as each other. She was an experienced mother and she knew how to raise strong and healthy babies. This would be her last litter and she lay quietly and contentedly in the straw lined kennel.

Full of milk and very sleepy, I sensed movement in front of our home and lifted my eyes blearily. I could just make out two very large shapes but was not afraid as the smell from one of them was familiar.

Since the day I was born I had been picked up daily and held high in the air whilst a deep voice rumbled into my small ears and a strong but unthreatening scent filled my nostrils. I have no idea what the voice was saying but it sounded kind and I had no fear of it.

Continue reading at Smorgasbord

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Fantasy Island ~Brian F. Kirkham #writephoto

For years that place in the middle of the sea was

a folly, a place for the well to do’s to admire from their

nice windows of the lakeside apartments

today, its so much more than this

Continue reading at The Inkwell

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Calanais: Spirit…

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We first coined the term ‘Spirit Stone’

at Waylands Smithy.

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It has served us well,

denoting as it does, a stone,

which, like the spirit, holds many forms.

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Continue reading at France and Vincent

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Pink Flamingo ~ Dr. Crystal Grimes #writephoto

When reality is an illusion,
And you’re fretting and full of confusion…
Simply take a deep breath,
Go deep into yourself
Where the Light gives you calm and conclusions!

 

Continue reading and listen to the music at  Mystical Strings

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The House that Fish Built: Cave of Cruachan…

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…So the heroes of Albion set out for the Cave of Cruachan…

Through the Gap-of-the-Watch,

over the Plain-of-Two-Forks,

across the Ford-of-the-Morrigan

into the Rowan-Meadow-of-the-Two-Oxen

by the Meeting-of-the-Four-Ways they drove

before a dim, dark, heavy mist overtook them…

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Continue reading at France and Vincent

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The Time-Keeper ~ Kitty #writephoto

None a stranger,

Everyone a family,

None knew the outside world,

Everyone happy in this safe haven,

None had a timepiece,

Continue reading at Kitty’s Verses

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