It's never too late to start asking questions about the grassy knoll...Moonlight
I know when the sun is in China
because the night shining other-light
crawls into my bed. She is moon.
Her eyes slit and yellow she is the last
one out of a dingy bar in Albuquerque -
Fourth Street, or from similar avenues
in Hong Kong. Where someone else has also
awakened, the night thrown back and asked,
"Where is the moon, my lover?"
And from here I always answer in my dreaming,
"the last time I saw her was in the arms
of another sky."
Joy Harjo
I know when the sun is in China
because the night shining other-light
crawls into my bed. She is moon.
Her eyes slit and yellow she is the last
one out of a dingy bar in Albuquerque -
Fourth Street, or from similar avenues
in Hong Kong. Where someone else has also
awakened, the night thrown back and asked,
"Where is the moon, my lover?"
And from here I always answer in my dreaming,
"the last time I saw her was in the arms
of another sky."
Joy Harjo
It's strange to be back home. I go to the dentist who puts two gargantuan golden crowns (memory of chinese food from my childhood - explanations available on request) in my mouth. I tell the Chief later by text that I feel like Metal Mickey (does anyone else remember him??) and I look like a gangsta - albeit only when I laugh (no, I am not H-A-P-P-Y - though memories of eighties tv are flooding me this evening).
Kate and I go walking down by the waterfront in Bosham (pronounce it however you like, but I won't understand if you say Cosham differently). We talk about depression and directionlessness (particularly about whether this is actually a word) and about exactly how a swan can break your arm. Kate later writes to tell me that they actually do it with their feet. Don't be fooled however, as this turned out to be a thinly veiled lie. After our stroll around the posh Bosham pond (there's a song in that, you could sing it to the tune of Fat Bottomed Girls by Queen), we head into a cafe and drink tea. I have scones that make me feel slightly sick.
Does anyone find that too much dairy makes their chin smell of baby sick? Of course, if the answer is no, then neither do I.
On the culture side of things, I have been reliably informed by Scott, my ex, that Banksy has a new show in London, details as follows:
Until Mar 24, Andipa Gallery, 162 Walton Street SW3, Mon to Fri 9.30am to 6pm, Sat 11am to 6pm, free. Tel: 020 7589 2371. www.andipamodern.com Tube: South Kensington
I may be taking a trip to Londoninium on Saturday and if I do, this will definitely be on my list.
Await my review with bated breath, disciples of culture's wonders. Or not.
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