Sunday 16 November

Not good for anything this morning.

Try and rescue the blue watercolours but they are sinking further into the abyss
( abyss or void )

 

 

 

 

 

The sun comes out so I walk around Borough Road
the white gold light greets me with that view

as if unfolding

I relinquish autumn and bid winter approach.

orange ochred leaves
smalled flecks
against the dark dark pines

red ochred bracken

and then the white intense shine of the sun on the sea.
a pure thick brilliance

beyond pigment

beyond my powers

beyond my age

i am waning like the leaves

ochre, brilliant yet falling - spent

I can get the physical process of aging,

but the mental,

thought,

want

still to desire, to reach. not as a dithering idiot,

but as something vital.

All that stuff seemed to be away in another land,
now it sometimes seems only in the next valley.

 

maybe its what all those hours at the gym are for.