Thursday, 31 December 2009

Tuesday, 22 December 2009

On my mind

A picture done for World Mental Health Day by lua-abyssa on -

Sunday, 30 August 2009

Sometimes I mishear lyrics

Magic for me
Magic make no sound
Echo for me, It good for me
echo for me underground, underground It good for me underground, underground
Magic got me,
really got me down

And let me tell myself It made me kill myself

from Gorillaz - 5/4

Tuesday, 4 August 2009

A grey sky, a bitter sting

And under the boughs unbowed,
all clothed in snowy shroud
She had no heart so hardened.
All under the boughs unbowed...

Each feather, it fell from skin
Till threadbare as she grew thin.
How were my eyes so blinded?
Each feather, it fell from skin.

And I will hang my head,
Hang my head low,
And I will hang my head,
Hang my head low

From The Crane Wife Part 3 by The Decemberists

This Be The Verse by Phillip Larkin

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats.

Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf
Get out as early as you can,
And don't have any kids yourself.

Wednesday, 29 July 2009


... a specialist at a big hospital, who shone lights in David's eyes and examined his skull. He asked David some questions, then asked David's father many more, some of them concerning David's mother and her death. David had then been told to wait outside while they talked, and when David's father came out he looked angry. That was how they had ended up at Dr Moberley's office.
Dr Moberley was a psychiatrist.
A buzzer sounded beside the secretary's desk and she nodded to David and his father.
"He can go in now," she said.

A small man with grey hair and a grey beard sat behind an antique desk that looked too big for him. He wore rectangular glasses with a gold chain to keep him from losing them. A red and black bow tie was knotted tightly at his neck, and his suit was dark and baggy.
'Welcome,' he said. 'I'm Dr Moberley. You must be David.'
David nodded. Dr Moberley asked David to sit down, then flicked through the pages of a notebook on his desk, tugging on his beard when he read whatever was written on them. When he had finished, he looked up and asked David how he was. David said he was fine. Dr Moberley asked him if he was sure. David said he was reasonably sure. Dr Moberley said David's dad was worried about him. He asked David if he missed his mum. David didn't answer. Of course he missed her, and he was sad because of it. He didn't need a doctor to tell him that.

Dr Moberley gave David a box of pencils and asked him to draw a picture of a house. David took a lead pencil and carefully drew the walls and the chimney, then put in some windows and a door before he set to work adding little curved slates to the roof. He was quite lost in the act of drawing when Dr Moberley told him that was quite enough. He asked David if he hadn't thought of using coloured pencils. David told him that the drawing wasn't finished, and once the tiles were added to the roof he planned to colour them red. Dr Moberley asked David, in the v-e-r-y s-l-o-w way that some of his books spoke, why the slates were so important.

David wondered if Dr Moberley was a real doctor. Doctors were supposed to be very clever. Dr Moberley didn't seem terribly clever. V-e-r-y s-l-o-w-ly, David explained that without the slates on the roof, the rain would get in. Dr Moberley asked David if he was afraid of the rain getting in. David said he didn't like getting wet. It wasn't so bad outside, if you were dressed for it, but most people didn't dress for rain indoors.
Dr Moberley looked a bit confused.

Next, he asked David to draw a tree. Again, David took the pencil and painstakingly drew the branches, and then proceeded to add little leaves to each one. He was only on the third branch when Dr Moberley asked him to stop again. This time, Dr Moberley had the kind of expression that David's father sometimes had when he managed to finish the crossword in the Sunday paper. Short of standing up and shouting 'Aha!' with his finger pointing in the way mad scientists did in cartoons, he couldn't have looked more pleased with himself.

Taken, and edited about a bit from 'The Book of Lost Things' by John Connolly

Monday, 22 June 2009

Saturday, 23 May 2009


Come ride with me through the veins of history
I'll show you that God falls asleep on the job
And how can we win
When fools can be king?
Don't waste your time, or time will waste you.

From 'Knights of Cyndonia' by Muse

Friday, 22 May 2009

I cannot help the way I feel

Sculpture by John Isaacs. Can be seen at the Wellcome Collection

Friday, 15 May 2009

The Sounds

Teenage for nothing now...
Nightlife baby! Oooh-aah-ah-ooh
The Sounds - Living in America

Could I act like you,
and put a smile on my face?
Not even for a second -
would I lie to myself?
Too many things are missing,
and there's a tear in my eye.
It's not a question or an answer, but it will change your mind:

We'll be the same tomorrow
'cause we all been Painted by Numbers
Sing a song for sorrow
'cause we all been Painted by Numbers
We're dancing as we borrow
You said it was love; I got what I need to get by
The Sounds - Painted by Numbers

This song is not for you only for people living like we do and not for the true
To all you liars, who will be tired
of believing what they say and what you always been told
Don't believe in what they say and what you've always been told
Don't believe in what they say and what you've always been told

The Sounds - Song With a Mission