Moths, beggars kneecaps and pies
Thank God, managed to sleep for hours, despite being woken up by the sound of a lady being noisily pleasured in the twitten at 3:30 am and a neighbour shouting down "People live here!" Bizarre and dreamlike.
Up early to finish off the first draft of my Church n' Charity stuff and after an intense couple of hours was finished.
Escaped off into the outside world and headed to the Booth Museum. Lurked about looking at hundreds of stuffed birds, stuffed bears and dead moths and bits of flint. Made lots of notes and generally fed my imagination with a large tablespoon. For example I learned that flint contains lots of echinocorys, which are fossils of sea urchins. There are many other names and folk legends attached to them, one is that they are called thunderstones, and they are used to ward off lightning. They are also called shepherds knees, beggars kneecaps, and policemen's helmets.
On the way home the idea of a Cornish pasty formed in my head, and, popping into the new pastie place, I was told by a cheery little pasty maiden that today was national pie day. I must have felt an inner calling.
Made some bread, post-pastie, and took some comments on the writing work I'd done earlier, and do some admin bits and sift through old poems to see if I'd forgotten any good old ones. I'm still amazing myself with how many contain bird imagery. Right from the earliest poems I wrote. Still don't really understand why. Birds often represent ideas, thoughts and imagination. So maybe it is that and in my poetry they seem to be portents or messengers too.
Taking a chill pill tonight drinking sparkling mineral water, and enjoying not feeling half dead like yesterday. Lorraine popped around for a bit, and we watched Chelsea get through to the final of the Carling cup. All well.
Below part of the moth display.
Thank God, managed to sleep for hours, despite being woken up by the sound of a lady being noisily pleasured in the twitten at 3:30 am and a neighbour shouting down "People live here!" Bizarre and dreamlike.
Up early to finish off the first draft of my Church n' Charity stuff and after an intense couple of hours was finished.
Escaped off into the outside world and headed to the Booth Museum. Lurked about looking at hundreds of stuffed birds, stuffed bears and dead moths and bits of flint. Made lots of notes and generally fed my imagination with a large tablespoon. For example I learned that flint contains lots of echinocorys, which are fossils of sea urchins. There are many other names and folk legends attached to them, one is that they are called thunderstones, and they are used to ward off lightning. They are also called shepherds knees, beggars kneecaps, and policemen's helmets.
On the way home the idea of a Cornish pasty formed in my head, and, popping into the new pastie place, I was told by a cheery little pasty maiden that today was national pie day. I must have felt an inner calling.
Made some bread, post-pastie, and took some comments on the writing work I'd done earlier, and do some admin bits and sift through old poems to see if I'd forgotten any good old ones. I'm still amazing myself with how many contain bird imagery. Right from the earliest poems I wrote. Still don't really understand why. Birds often represent ideas, thoughts and imagination. So maybe it is that and in my poetry they seem to be portents or messengers too.
Taking a chill pill tonight drinking sparkling mineral water, and enjoying not feeling half dead like yesterday. Lorraine popped around for a bit, and we watched Chelsea get through to the final of the Carling cup. All well.
Below part of the moth display.
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