Wildcat

 

 

 

 

 

He pads on grassy banks behind a fence,

          with measured paces slow and tense.

          Beyond his cage his thoughts are sharp and white;

                  he lives a compelled anchorite.

                  A solid ghost gone blind with all the green,

                              he waits and waits to be unseen.

 

 

A Snow Leopard by Jason Gray, via 1

 

 

 

The Outfit:

Vintage Fur Coat (mink): passed down from Granny Penny

Black Wool Beret: passed down from Granny Penny

Leopard Vest Tunic: from a charity shop

Grey Cardigan: from the high street

Denim Shorts Underneath: from Topshop

Black tights: very old, bobbly and bit too worse for wear

Black Rosette Shoes: old from Irregular Choice

Sunglasses: old from the high street

 

 

All photos taken by me using the self timer on my little camera.

 

 I am delighted to be a part of Visible Monday, hosted by Patti from Not Dead Yet Style, click on the website link to see her outfit and those of many others.

Also linking this post to Shoe Shine, a great event hosted by Bella of The Citizen Rosebud, click on the website to see her beautiful shoes and those of many others

 

 

The Harvest Sun

 

 

 

 

 

 

Why are the woods so alluring? A forest appears

to a young girl one morning as she combs

the dreams out of   her hair. The trees rustle

and whisper, shimmer and hiss. The forest

opens and closes, a door loose on its hinges,

banging in a strong wind. Everything in the dim

kitchen: the basin, the jug, the skillet, the churn,

snickers scornfully. In this way a maiden

is driven toward the dangers of a forest,

but the forest is our subject, not this young girl.

She’s glad to lie down with trees towering all around.

A certain euphoria sets in. She feels molecular,

bedeviled, senses someone gently pulling her hair,

tingles with kisses she won’t receive for years.

Three felled trees, a sort of chorus, narrate

her thoughts, or rather channel theirs through her,

or rather subject her to their peculiar verbal

restlessness ...    our deepening need for non-being intones

the largest and most decayed tree, mid-sentence.

I’m not one of you squeaks the shattered sapling,

blackened by lightning. Their words become metallic

spangles shivering the air. Will I forget the way home?

the third blurts. Why do I feel like I’m hiding in a giant’s nostril?

the oldest prone pine wants to know. Are we being   freed

from matter? the sapling asks. Insects are well-intentioned,

offers the third tree, by way of consolation. Will it grow

impossible to think a thought through to its end? gasps the sapling,

adding in a panicky voice, I’m becoming spongy! The girl

feels her hands attach to some distant body. She rises

to leave, relieved these trees are not talking about her.

 

 

 

Bon Courage by Amy Gerstler, via 1

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Outfit:

Hobbs Red Coat: passed down from Granny Penny

Breton Dress, underneath: charity shop

Black lace tights: from the High Street

Hunter wellies: from Ebay

 

 

The Soundtrack:

Beth Gibbons & Rustin' Man: Autumn Leaves

 

 

 Photos taken using the self timer on my little camera.

 

 

Just a quick post today as I'm very behind on everything blog related, but glad to be back.

More soon.

 

 

 

 I am delighted to be a part of the next Visible Monday, hosted by Patti from Not Dead Yet Style, click on the website link to see her outfit and those of many others.

English Rain

 

 

 

 

The Rain

 

 

All night the sound had

come back again,

and again falls

this quiet, persistent rain.

 

What am I to myself

that must be remembered,

insisted upon

so often? Is it

 

that never the ease,

even the hardness,

of rain falling

will have for me

 

something other than this,

something not so insistent—

am I to be locked in this

final uneasiness.

 

Love, if you love me,

lie next to me.

Be for me, like rain,

the getting out

 

of the tiredness, the fatuousness, the semi-

lust of intentional indifference.

Be wet

with a decent happiness

 

 

by Robert Creeley, via 1

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Outfit:

Red Coat: used to belong to late granny Penny

Vintage Crinkle Skirt: from late granny Penny

Green Snood: from the high street years ago

Red Faux Leather Gloves: gift from a friend

Vintage Red Poppy Umbrella: used to belong to late granny Kiki

Hunter Wellies: from Ebay

 

 

 

The Soundtrack:

 

Nick Cave: Push The Sky Away

 

 

All photographs taken by me, self portraits using the self timer on my little digital camera.  Sorry about the even fuzzier than usual images - the camera seems sad about the lack of light, it can only focus clearly in the sunshine!

 

I'm delighted to be a part of Visible Monday, hosted by the lovely Patti from www.notdeadyetstyle.blogspot.co.uk, click on the website link to see her outfit and those of many others.

Tale From The Harem

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Can you not see... that fairy tales in their essence are quite solid and straightforward; but that this everlasting fiction about modern life is in its nature essentially incredible? Folk-lore means that the soul is sane, but that the universe is wild and full of marvels. Realism means that the world is dull and full of routine, but that the soul is sick and screaming. The problem of the fairy tale is - what will a healthy man do with a fantastic world? The problem of the modern novel is - what will a madman do with a dull world? In the fairy tales the cosmos goes mad; but the hero does not go mad. In the modern novels the hero is mad before the book begins, and suffers from the harsh steadiness and cruel sanity of the cosmos.  

 

by G.K. Chesterton, via 1

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Outfit:

Vintage Brocade Satin Opera Coat: made by granny Kiki for Kiki Couture in the 30s/40s

Black T-Shirt: very old from H&M

Black Sequin Waisted Harem Trousers: old from a sale at Asos

Red Sequin Peep Toe Heels: old, from a sale at New Look

Amber earrings: my mother's

 

Amber bracelet: gift from a friend

 

The Soundtrack

Marianne Faithfull: Boulevard Of Broken Dreams

 

 

All photographs taken by me, self portraits using the self timer on my little digital camera. 

 

 

Thank you so much for all your supportive comments on my last post, I feel lucky to have found such a caring and inspiring blog community. The fog is gradually lifting, although the weather outside is still freezing! 

 

I'm delighted to be a part of Visible Monday, hosted by the lovely Patti from www.notdeadyetstyle.blogspot.co.uk, click on the website link to see her outfit and those of many others.

 

Where I Lay My Roots

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The deep parts of my life pour onward,
as if the river shores were opening out.
It seems that things are more like me now,
That I can see farther into paintings.
I feel closer to what language can't reach.
With my senses, as with birds, I climb
into the windy heaven, out of the oak,
in the ponds broken off from the sky
my falling sinks, as if standing on fishes.

 

 

Moving Forward, by Rainer Maria Rilke

via 1

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Outfit:

Grey Blue vintage coat: my mother's from the early 70s, Wallis

Floral skinny jeans: bought in a charity shop, originally from Topshop

Blue jumper: handed down from my best friend

Blue t-shirt underneath: from H&M

Red cowboy boots: bought from R Soles from the Kings Road about 13 years ago

Vintage navajo earrings: from a car boot sale in the 90s

 

Old mohair snood: from Topshop

 

Jewelled gloves: a present I gave granny Penny a few years before she died

 

 

 

The Soundtrack

 

Alt J: An Awesome Wave

 

All photographs taken by me, self portraits using the self timer on my cheap digital camera.

I'm delighted to be a part of Visible Monday, hosted by the lovely Patti from www.notdeadyetstyle.blogspot.co.uk, click on the website link to see her outfit and those of many others.

 

 

The Path Home

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They say it is waiting for more, the snow

Shrunk up to the shadow-line of walls

In an arctic smouldering, an unclean salt,

And will not go until the frost returns

Sharpening the stars, and the fresh snow falls

Piling its drifts in scallops, furls. I say

Snow has left its own white geometry

To measure out for the eye the way

The land may lie where a too cursory reading

Discovers only dip and incline leading

To incline, dip, and misses the fortuitous

Full variety a hillside spreads for us:

It is written here in sign and exclamation,

Touched-in contour and chalk-followed fold,

Lines and circles finding their completion

In figures less certain, figures that yet take hold

On features that would stay hidden but for them:

Walking, we waken these at every turn,

Waken ourselves, so that our walking seems

To rouse some massive sleeper out of winter dreams

Whose stretching startles the whole land into life,

As if it were us the cold, keen signs were seeking

To pleasure and remeasure, repossess

With a sense in the gathered coldness of heat and height.

Well, if it's for more the snow is waiting

To claim back into disguisal overnight,

As though it were promising a protection

From all it has transfigured, scored and bared,

Now we shall know the force of what resurrection

Outwaits the simplification of the snow.

 

 

Snow Signs by Charles Tomlinson, via 1

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Outfit:

 

 

Faux Sheepskin coat: very old, from Morgan de Toi

 

 

Silver velvet dress, seen as a skirt: bought from Monsoon when I was about 16

 

 

Black faux fur cardigan coat: very old from the high street

 

 

Faux wolf fur shawl: from an ex boyfriend

 

 

Red faux leather gloves: a gift from a friend

 

 

Wellies underneath: Hunter, via ebay

 

The Soundtrack

Nick Cave: Your Funeral My Trial 

All photographs taken by me, self portraits using the self timer on my cheap digital camera.

Unfortunately I've been unwell this last week, so I'm very behind on reading all your latest posts. I promise to drop by again very soon!

I'm delighted to be a part of Visible Monday, hosted by the lovely Patti from www.notdeadyetstyle.blogspot.co.uk, click on the website link to see her outfit and those of many others.