Monday, February 28, 2005
Misty, shawled covered hills. I drove with Tyger down to the city library where I traded in my bulky art books on Dada & Surrealism & NZ Art for a single book of Karl Stead’s poetry. Back home, I cooked a tomato sauce with grilled peppers and sautéed mushrooms for us to eat with pasta. I sautéed the mushrooms separately and placed them in a white bowl while I grilled the peppers. When I tipped the mushrooms into the sauce, dark inky black strokes streaked the bottom of the bowl.
When he said ‘King’ I felt my cock stir slowly at first, like moving your thumb in a pocket. But soon my cock became so stiff it was aching. I could feel it poking against the button fly of my jeans. I hungered for something beyond the approaching mountain.
‘King Horn? I gasped.
“Close but no cigar’ said Wolf.
Sunday, February 27, 2005
‘Always the same when you’re between worlds’ said Wolf.
‘You forget who you are. You were—you are—a king.’
Thursday, February 24, 2005
- a new career in a new town. bowie
- driving around. strawpeople (nz)
- the golden age- 101 mix. the flaming lips
- in every dream home a heartache. ferry & birkin'
- hey baby. no doubt
- hooked on radiation. atomiser (pbs mix)
- just like honey. the jesus & the mary chain
- tricklin'. tindersticks
- moments of pleasure. kate bush
- wellington. the muttonbirds (nz)
- american wife. goldenhourse (nz)
- who'll save the youth of america? billy bragg
- knowing me, knowing you. wondermints
- coolsville (live). rikki lee jones
- anchor me. the muttonbirds (live)
- 'grade a' gravy. chet baker
- serenity. chet baker
- waterloo sunset. the kinks
- mother. anika moa
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
Sunday, February 20, 2005
Lego Racing Game
So we spent the morning at the Kaori Karnival over at Ben Burn Park. And Tyger wants to buy this Lego racer game ($40) which I know he will love. But I think it’s too expensive and the woman behind the counter wont reduce even when I resort to having Tyger ask if she can ‘give a lower price.’ Now, I’d already bought Tyger 5 tickets to the chocolate wheel roulette, thereby helping to ensure that he won the prize of a small box of Cadbury’s Roses, but he wants the game and his eyes fill with tears. Of course, I know that he has fantastic acting abilities and has no problems crying on demand. So we go back and buy the game. Do I spoil him? Well, he’s not that demanding and you are only 7 once. It’s just that I know that he will spend hours playing with this game.
My fingers strummed gggg then a and I remembered how she fell asleep in the apple orchard. As we drove to the Drop bars of yellow street lights passed over my face. Why did she awake with her face all scratched to pieces?
Thursday, February 17, 2005
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
Monday, February 14, 2005
Sunday, February 13, 2005
When Tyger and I work on the model Fire Engine House, we listen to Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots by The Flaming Lips. It's a brilliant, moving, lovely, deep and extremely silly. I adore the music. Tyger always has a good laugh at 'Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots. pt.1'. Soon we'll move on to building the roof. If we have a long session then I'll stick on Chet Baker's Smokin'.
“ a big boy now”
1. Honey, I’m a big boy now. Billy Bragg
2. It’s a hit. Rilo Kiley
3. Boulevard of broken dreams. Greenday
4. The andy warhol effect. Strawpeople
5. It hasn’t happened yet. William Shatner
6. Beautiful people. Trinity Roots
7. The horses (live). Rikki Lee Jones
8. Field commander Cohen. L. Cohen
9. Summer in the City. Quincy Jones
10. Stoned to the bone. James Brown
11. Winds. Rhombus (feat. Raashi Malik)
12. Sweet release. Tindersticks
13. Don’t let the sun go down on me. E. John
14. Ian fish: uk heir. Bowie
15. Thank you jack white (for the fiber
optic jesus that you sent me.) The Flaming Lips
I turned and saw a cloth curtain just behind the front seat. I went through and saw that he had a small bunk, a tobacco tin, some discarded clothes and a fine acoustic guitar by his pillow. I picked up the guitar. It smelt of pine and dark forests. Around the rosette a zodiac of astrological glyphs set in mother of pearl.
Saturday, February 12, 2005
While Tyger was getting his award, I was team-teaching Drama to the oldest students at his school with some other colleagues from the college. We were working on voice work: soundscapes, fast/slow loud/soft exercises. The kids loved it and we had a good time. Even our fierce and taciturn drama teacher told that we had done good.
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
This morning Roishan played his Pokemon game while I spoon-fed him yogurt. And he thinks he’s such a big boy. But when he's focussed like that I can either feed him or let him go hungry. And he's not a game addict, thank goodness though he has a very unhealthy taste for caffeinated energy drinks (a curse on them!) Tyger lay in bed reading his model magazine and I smiled at his Bob the Builder pajamas and curly-top hair. So nice to get a cuddle in the morning. Life's looking up after hell month: the horrible summer job is over even though the wretched university has failed to pay me. I've handed in the keys to the tower. Even better, I’ve had no migraines at all for a week and I know that the cluster is over. The light looks right. So happy new year.
‘Wolf is my name. You don’t remember me from last time.’
The way he said it I knew it wasn’t a question. And I didn’t remember him.
‘I have something for you at the back of the cabin’ he said.
Sunday, February 06, 2005
This sweltering afternoon Mum and Dad sat in our living room eating the soft, fresh banana muffins word-girl had baked this morning. We were all a little hot after driving back from the airport where we had said our goodbyes to Penelope.
I carefully picked up the singing bowl from the altar and rested it in the palm of my left hand, with my right I slowly turned the wooden ringer around the base of the bowl until the room reverberated with the bowl’s ring. The sound rose from nothing became loud and then rippled away. ‘What a beautiful noise—I mean sound” said my mother.
I’m sick: I look at the day as a headache in waiting. But no new migraine so far. I really need to chill, get some peace. If I’m going to get rid of these headaches then I’m going to have to change the way I think.
Friday, February 04, 2005
Tuesday, February 01, 2005
The truck’s airbrakes snort as it comes to a stop. The driver looks like an old biker only with a clean, soapy smell. There’s a tar stain on his brown moustache. The cab smells faintly of coffee; nutmeg, almonds. No sign of a watch or dashboard clock.
‘Where you going?’ he asks.
‘What’s the next stop south before the desert road?’
‘I can take you to The Drop. But they have a situation down there. You know the floods?”
I remember a newspaper blowing down the high street of a small town. The wind pushing against the advertising boards.
Best to say nothing.