i want to make this a present moment thing and describe the way the sparched soil swells with rain, and then dries to leave a crazy sun-frizzled pattern, golden ochre mini techtonic plates glowing in the sun.
i remember when i started this blog i saw it as a way to inform friends and anyone interested in what sort of things i was living - and that, i realise, came to merge with making a written statement to God and letting him know how things were going for me and a few of my impressions of his universe, this universe.
now i am sitting in front of this computer i feel shy. there came the point when the sun got low enough in the sky that i could look at it without being blinded; it was an influx of golden light in my eyes. it filled me with golden warmth, it was very special. i wanted to keep on looking at it but i had to keep my eyes on the stones because i wanted to keep on walking.
two young girls from the uk came to the cave today. they told me that they liked music and had instruments with them; i suggested that we organise a ceilidh on the beach tonight. i said "maybe lots of people will come to dance, but even if no-one comes we can dance ourselves the ceilidh dances or make up our own dances" and they thought it was good.
then later they came back from the rocks and one of them had cut her finger on the rocks and so playing the violin was out, and so that was that.
our little black and white cat - who we always saw as the cleverest and most switched-on of her brood on account of her fearless climbing abilities, and whose curiosity took her once to the point of putting out her paw to the ukulele strings and carefully listening to the resulting vibrating klang - has taken to hunting lizards. this has become a fixation for her. the very first specimen she proudly presented at the cave entrance had already lost its tail by the time i realised it was still alive. i was able to detatch it from her little teeth and release it with a blessing into the bushes. in spite of the fact that the lizards have decimated the little delicious leaves of our two basil plants.
the highlight of the week is doubtless the paving of our the patio outside the cave. it has flown into a fuller appreciation of the stones that surround us. the nearby beach, for instance (where i never usually go) is teeming with a host of patricular sparkling lumps of volcanic spew, disgorged from the very volcanic bowels of the earth, sparkling now today for your special sensory pleasure, wonderful round large ones, little cute smooth white ones, and a few fiery light orange specimens, shot through with very grainy, very shiny, very black particles. my predeliction is for the very navy very large smooth chunks, forever licked by the salty tongue of the sea, and only for the taking when the tide is low. "this is a work of Roman proportions" i declared to isbrand when he came to visit and helped to lay a number of stones - in a very aesthetically pleasing way i may say - and participate in our fortunate act of laying down a floor which will probably still be here in a hundred years.
it began after the rain when jenny said with the ground wet it was the best time to push in little round stones. i got involved and started looking around for the biggest, flattest, nicest stones. as evening came on i realised the best way was to properly break up the ground - good and deep, to accomodate for the biggest, most solid stones.
"is this not the patio that has been here since . . . ever?" asked cristine when she came round to visit.
"yes" came slowly jenny's slightly discountenanced response.
i see her now, silently observing, quietly watching me as i hacked the spade into the soil with mounting energy and enthusiasm.
the patio had previously always consisted of hard beaten sun-baked earth, through whose loose crumbs i now gleefully ran my fingers. "it feels so good to feel the earth!"
i now see my action as an important step in strengthening jenifer's trust in me. previously the cave and its accessories had been the exclusive fruit of jenny's hard work. something akin to a stronger sense of possession or maybe belonging now bound me to the place
i hug the warm stones to my abdomen and carry them sweating in the sun, shunning making a pause to cook something lecker, taking only schlucks of water occassionally and working thus tirelessly into the night, feeling no tiredness, fully absorbed in the task, faintly aware of coming humming back fatigue, but filled and redeemed by the glory of the deed of the day.
this place disgorges a preeminent stone shining simplicity
- everything being an act of interpretation -
i feel somewhat shy upon saying with quiet confidence that these days, these very days, are the very best days of my life.
it was the influx of purpose in my activity which made the paving the yard the cause for so much fun. it reminded me of when i was eleven and together with my brothers and dad we paved a path through our garden lawn. we drove to the sea and lugged great hunks of stones into the back of the car and then into the garden to lay them in their prepared cavities, consuming our days and our energy and supplying us with the fine sense of pride of a job well done. it reminded me of a thin book i saw in a visitor centre in the argentinian andes which showed photos of a group of long-haired beaming bronzed lovers of life - young men and women and their children - constructing simple community dwellings in the woods. since then, i realise, it has become a unconscious sort of longing of mine to do something similar.
"morally, one ends up being what one wants to be" goes the idea
and it can also be true for lifestyle dreams
although the sea is still a little bit chilly, i liked the challenge of swimming out to the yacht this morning "hello!" i called from the water, "i live in the cave over there. i just came to say hello"
"hello. would you like a plate of pasta?" a woman called back
"yes, please!"
they gave me a towel as i climbed up dripping and naked. they were two young italian-swiss couples on holiday. one young man i had met briefly a week or so ago when he came to the cave saying four years ago he had lived there, but it had changed so much. "was it really the same place?" he had to ask himself. he promised he would come again to visit and that we would play chess. i shared a tasty plate of pasta and some moments of pleasant conversation with those happy couples on the boat before swimming back to the shore.
i remember when i started this blog i saw it as a way to inform friends and anyone interested in what sort of things i was living - and that, i realise, came to merge with making a written statement to God and letting him know how things were going for me and a few of my impressions of his universe, this universe.
now i am sitting in front of this computer i feel shy. there came the point when the sun got low enough in the sky that i could look at it without being blinded; it was an influx of golden light in my eyes. it filled me with golden warmth, it was very special. i wanted to keep on looking at it but i had to keep my eyes on the stones because i wanted to keep on walking.
two young girls from the uk came to the cave today. they told me that they liked music and had instruments with them; i suggested that we organise a ceilidh on the beach tonight. i said "maybe lots of people will come to dance, but even if no-one comes we can dance ourselves the ceilidh dances or make up our own dances" and they thought it was good.
then later they came back from the rocks and one of them had cut her finger on the rocks and so playing the violin was out, and so that was that.
our little black and white cat - who we always saw as the cleverest and most switched-on of her brood on account of her fearless climbing abilities, and whose curiosity took her once to the point of putting out her paw to the ukulele strings and carefully listening to the resulting vibrating klang - has taken to hunting lizards. this has become a fixation for her. the very first specimen she proudly presented at the cave entrance had already lost its tail by the time i realised it was still alive. i was able to detatch it from her little teeth and release it with a blessing into the bushes. in spite of the fact that the lizards have decimated the little delicious leaves of our two basil plants.
the highlight of the week is doubtless the paving of our the patio outside the cave. it has flown into a fuller appreciation of the stones that surround us. the nearby beach, for instance (where i never usually go) is teeming with a host of patricular sparkling lumps of volcanic spew, disgorged from the very volcanic bowels of the earth, sparkling now today for your special sensory pleasure, wonderful round large ones, little cute smooth white ones, and a few fiery light orange specimens, shot through with very grainy, very shiny, very black particles. my predeliction is for the very navy very large smooth chunks, forever licked by the salty tongue of the sea, and only for the taking when the tide is low. "this is a work of Roman proportions" i declared to isbrand when he came to visit and helped to lay a number of stones - in a very aesthetically pleasing way i may say - and participate in our fortunate act of laying down a floor which will probably still be here in a hundred years.
it began after the rain when jenny said with the ground wet it was the best time to push in little round stones. i got involved and started looking around for the biggest, flattest, nicest stones. as evening came on i realised the best way was to properly break up the ground - good and deep, to accomodate for the biggest, most solid stones.
"is this not the patio that has been here since . . . ever?" asked cristine when she came round to visit.
"yes" came slowly jenny's slightly discountenanced response.
i see her now, silently observing, quietly watching me as i hacked the spade into the soil with mounting energy and enthusiasm.
the patio had previously always consisted of hard beaten sun-baked earth, through whose loose crumbs i now gleefully ran my fingers. "it feels so good to feel the earth!"
i now see my action as an important step in strengthening jenifer's trust in me. previously the cave and its accessories had been the exclusive fruit of jenny's hard work. something akin to a stronger sense of possession or maybe belonging now bound me to the place
i hug the warm stones to my abdomen and carry them sweating in the sun, shunning making a pause to cook something lecker, taking only schlucks of water occassionally and working thus tirelessly into the night, feeling no tiredness, fully absorbed in the task, faintly aware of coming humming back fatigue, but filled and redeemed by the glory of the deed of the day.
this place disgorges a preeminent stone shining simplicity
- everything being an act of interpretation -
i feel somewhat shy upon saying with quiet confidence that these days, these very days, are the very best days of my life.
it was the influx of purpose in my activity which made the paving the yard the cause for so much fun. it reminded me of when i was eleven and together with my brothers and dad we paved a path through our garden lawn. we drove to the sea and lugged great hunks of stones into the back of the car and then into the garden to lay them in their prepared cavities, consuming our days and our energy and supplying us with the fine sense of pride of a job well done. it reminded me of a thin book i saw in a visitor centre in the argentinian andes which showed photos of a group of long-haired beaming bronzed lovers of life - young men and women and their children - constructing simple community dwellings in the woods. since then, i realise, it has become a unconscious sort of longing of mine to do something similar.
"morally, one ends up being what one wants to be" goes the idea
and it can also be true for lifestyle dreams
although the sea is still a little bit chilly, i liked the challenge of swimming out to the yacht this morning "hello!" i called from the water, "i live in the cave over there. i just came to say hello"
"hello. would you like a plate of pasta?" a woman called back
"yes, please!"
they gave me a towel as i climbed up dripping and naked. they were two young italian-swiss couples on holiday. one young man i had met briefly a week or so ago when he came to the cave saying four years ago he had lived there, but it had changed so much. "was it really the same place?" he had to ask himself. he promised he would come again to visit and that we would play chess. i shared a tasty plate of pasta and some moments of pleasant conversation with those happy couples on the boat before swimming back to the shore.
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