hey.jude

Yesterday, something large, black and slow-moving caught the corner of my eye

"Yesterday, something large, black and slow-moving caught the corner of my eye -

I knew immediately that it was a giant flying fox, even though I did not realize that they live in India.

It was just hanging out in the tree, not flying but using the claws on its wings to pull flowers close to its face and drink nectar."


an email from Rebecca - a note from Delhi

the incredible c e le ste! m w a!

placeholder*****

insert a piece or a paragraph here about Celeste singing on Monday mornings.

The silicon chip inside her head
Gets switched to overload.

write about misunderstandings. how misunderstandings influence my poetic logic. how my writing, to me, feels intrinsically misunderstood. perhaps this is why i'm drawn to translation and "the outsider". the uncomfortable feeling when i reread a piece -- it's not the exact word i've intended but it's a good try. and it's painstaking, yet simple. sometimes it misses the point altogether. and how a typical audience of mine are made up of the ones who are never invited to the party (they'd be the first to invite you).

write about how the lyrics sound different to every set of ears and how we generally mishear words and meaning on a daily basis.  what? what?

what does that tell us about ourselves?

if we misinterpret something as simple as a pop song, doesn't that tell us something about how we listen, how we really listen? doesn't that tell us what we want to hear from each other?

typical notes to myself

as I write a piece.

just sharing cos

i'd really like to go to bed now....

and i wanted to scratch something down, eh????

NOTE: the boat is called the Mary Celeste