I have just seen, and printed out to enjoy at lesisure Lucy Kempton's latest set of photographs illustrating the Compasses poems (31 - 35). You will find the link on the right.
The interest which Marja-leena and others have shown in my notebook is flattering. I must have made it sound too interesting, even attractive. There is another, less acceptable side to it. It is, I am afraid, rather like a gross, untidy room. A good reflection of my mind. Unmatched socks lie under the bed; books, magazines and newspapers cover the floor in unsorted piles; forgotten cups nurse stains and the remains of tea and coffee; electronic cables leading nowhere strangle the sparse, collapsing furniture. Is that a half eaten sandwich? Is that a mouse nibbling at it? Better not draw the curtains. It would reveal too much, or too little, and nothing much to be proud of. But thank you Marja-lena for your suggestion, and, as ever, for you visit.
Overcast is the word to describe our weather recently. Under the sunless grey sky there is an aimless quality that you find in energetic children kicking their heels with nothing to occupy them. The trees wave their branches listlessly with a hint of petulence. The smothered sound of rock music emerges from a group of young people, waiting for something to happen.
Through a window, which I pass in the street, I see just a pair sandalled feet, and legs dressed in a pair of dark brown shorts.