schwakhofer

No purchase necessary.  Spend a day without spending.  Click here for November 27 Buy Nothing Day in the US.

And here for 28 November Buy Nothing Day in the rest of the world.

buddha
BUY LESS and GIVE MORE!  I came across Reverend Billy and the Church of Life After Shopping.  The Church of Life After Shopping is [...]

I practice a policy of gastronomic laissez-faire and say “Live and let live, but if you hunger for a critter, try to get one that has been raised and killed humanely”.  If possible get it from the source and don’t waste any part of it.  Thank it’s soul for giving itself so that I may [...]

Wow, this is an awesome song and music video I encountered for the first time a week ago.

Crazy is is the first single from Gnarls Barkley, a musical collaboration between Danger Mouse and Cee-Lo, and is taken from their 2006 debut album St. Elsewhere.  It’s a great song.  Going along with the psychiatric theme of [...]

On our recent visit to London, Steve and I saw quite a bit of artwork.  Sculpture at the Royal Academy, Turner and the Masters at the Tate Britain, the shortlisted nominees for this year’s Turner prize and an installation by Miroslaw Balka at the Tate Modern.
The Anish Kapoor sculpture in the courtyard of the Royal [...]

Steve and I went on a budget movie and dinner date the other night.  First stop was the University of Exeter library for a film.  When I used to work there, in another life, I cottoned onto the private viewing carrels and pretty extensive video collection spanning British, American, European and World cinema.


We saw Rebecca; [...]

Since we live in a top floor flat, our closest neighbours are the jackdaws who nest in the chimneys and congregate on the rooftopos.  This summer the roofs and skies over Moretonhampstead have been filled with hundreds of these birds.   They are the smallest species of Corvus the genus of crows and ravens.  Jackdaws [...]

I have a variation on the “Bambi complex,” “Bambi factor,” or “Bambi syndrome” which are three terms used interchangeably for sentimental, sympathetic attitudes toward wildlife, especially deer. They are usually used derogatorily and reflect a backlash against  humane, anti-hunting, and preservationist values, and the excessive sentimentality that Bambi has often come to symbolize.  Although I [...]

OK. This is it. My absolutely favorite #1 of all time cookbook. Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Vol. 1 by Simone Beck, Louisette Bertholle and Julia Child. This was the cookbook that I cut my teeth on and used to teach myself how to cook ‘real’ food. Classic French [...]

Here in the UK, we’ve had a heatwave over the past four days with temperatures soaring into the 80’s.  One of my favourite summertime tipples is a shandy – half lager and half lemonade.  Lemonade as in store bought sparkling lemonade, not American style, which I will get to in a moment.
buddha
Shandy

Lager
Lemonade

Mix half and half.
buddha

And [...]

Can you remember being held by the earth,
encircled by the trees
and speaking the language of the forest?
Sometimes when I experience a breeze-rippled grass pasture or striped, sea-smoothed stones on a beach, or crows riding the wind like kites, I feel that I am reading a language I recognize, but can no longer quite recall.  There is something much deeper than what I am seeing, but I cannot quite touch.  Although I try to reach for it with photography or video, or struggle to capture and express it through fibre art or a poem,  I think that there is something more than the struggle of the artist and poet inside of me for self-expression.  That I have lost a fluency in the language of the earth and also a very deep connection.  One of the streams of my artwork is the riverjourney in which I am honouring my ancestors, the Mvskoke, and telling our story.  I think it may be time to translate some of my poetry into Muscogee and perhaps find a language and a way to express some of what I feel inside.
I belong to the Muscogee tribe of Native Americans.   My ancestors were removed to what is now the state of Oklahoma in the 1830’s. My great grandmother, Melindy Philips a full-blooded Muscogee, spoke Muscogee all of her life and very little English.  My father Frank could understand but not speak Muscogee.  He was born at a time (1919) when he wasn’t proud to have Native American ancestry and was called a ‘half-breed’ by the white and Muscogee kids he grew up with.
Native languages are dying out at an alarming rate in all of the tribal nations.  There are a number of reasons for the extinction of American Indian languages but the most common is the boarding school experience from 1870 to the 1930’s.   An Indian boarding school refers to one of many schools that were established in the United States during the late 19th century to educate Native American youths according to Euro-American standards. In some areas, these schools were primarily run by m

What is real and what is a dream?
Sometimes a thing, a pattern, a mood or an idea captures me and I am drawn into another experience.  I might go off momentarily into a reverie, or a new world may take shape inside of me which demands expression, never quieting until I have made a new creation.
Whilst walking across Place Flagey, late at night, in search of an ATM I noticed traffic lights, passersby and boys kicking a football around filtered through opaque glass.  Dreamy  .  .  .  .  .  .
buddha

When Steve and I were in Brussels we did one of our most favourite activites TWICE, which is go to the cinema.  The first was to see Milk at the UCG Brussels, which was pretty much like going to the UCG Anywhere only with French subtitles in the trailers and feature film.
Harvey Milk was the first openly gay man to be elected to public office in California as a member of the San Francisco Board of Supervisors.  The film was quite good and gives a snapshot of the gay right’s movement.   I’d seen the 1984 Oscar-winning documentary of his life and the aftermath of his assassination, titled The Times of Harvey Milk, ages ago.
The film chronicles Milk’s foray into city politics, and the various battles he waged in his Castro neighborhood as well as throughout the city, and political campaigns to limit the rights of gay people in 1977 and 1978 run by Anita Bryant and John Briggs. His romantic and political relationships are also addressed, as is his tenuous affiliation with troubled Supervisor Dan White.   Milk was brilliantly cast and gives a beautifully rendered flavor of the times, and an intimate vision of a man finding his place within a community and history.


The next night we went to Flagey Studios to watch the Marx Brothers in  ‘A Night at the Opera’.  Now this is a seriously beautiful building which was partially listed in 1994 and was saved in June 1998 by a private Belgian group and has now embarked on a new life as a music and cinema complex.

From the mission statement:

Flagey.  Home of metroculture, meeting-point of paths that co-exist, clash, merge and mingle A space for surprises, sights and secrets. A variegated crowd, always different, sometimes familiar. Some sweep by for one performance, others are familiar with its seats. Authors, contemplators, denigrators. Inspiring and aspiring Metro Flagey. The rhythm is that of words, music, song, always in movement, always enthralling. Lover of the future, passionate about the past, cerebral

The rear half of the barn where I park my bike while I’m at work has been made over into a maternity ward. I’ve been haunting it before work and at lunchtime to visit the newborns.   One of my colleagues raises champion rare breed sheep - Greyface Dartmoors and Manx Loagthans.  The Greyfaces are quite curious and friendly and often come up to me when I walk through their paddock.  The Loagthans are more wary and keep their distance.  I can see this different behaviour right from the start with the new babies.

Greyface Dartmoor mother and child
buddha

buddha
buddha

Newborn Manx Loagthan twins
buddha
buddha

Who? .  .  .  .  .  Us?

A pair of last spring’s twins and their very patient mum:

buddha


blue Prize ribbons

Steve and I went to Brussels last weekend.  We travelled on Eurostar from St. Pancras International in London and were door to door in two hours.  We breakfasted on fresh croissants, Wiltshire ham, Emmental and mimosas (half fresh orange juice, half champagne). Such a civilised way to travel.
I didn’t have much chocolate, just a decadent, chocolate-enrobed, juicy strawberry from Godiva.  And of course, the obligatory gaufre belge (Belgian waffle), this one purchased in the metro station and slathered with chocolate sauce.

We had some very good meals.  One standout was at La Vilette (Rue du Vieux Marché aux grains 3, 1000 BRUSSELS) where I had medallions of pork cooked with Orval beer and topped with Orval cheese and Steve had rabbit leg cooked with Lambic beer, plus a mountain of frites each.  La Villette serves traditional Belgian cuisine and is a sweet little place with a good atmosphere.  I also had lots of dark Trappist ales - Chimay, Duvel, Westmalle, Orval to name a few.

La Villette
On Saturday we got up early-ish and went to the flea market in the cobblestoned Place de Jeu de Balle, Marolles.

It features a lot of junk unattractively dumped in old cardboard boxes or on blankets, still it’s a lot of fun and good for people watching and finding the occasional bargain.  I bought a copy of  Survival in Auschwitz by Primo Levi which had come from a used book store La Buena Nota in Costa Rica.


The Life Cycle of the Honeybee

buddha

We got caught in a rain shower just before the final row and dived into Chez Mamie (Place de Jeu Balle 14, 1000 BRUSSELS) a tiny, funky corner crêperie with a great vibe and good cheap fast food.

Grégoire cooks up crêpes to order in a place stuffed chock full of art, lingering locals, dogs and passing tourists.

buddha

The best seat in the house

buddha

buddha
A man happy in his work .  .  .  .  .

buddha


Crêpe avec le chevre et les épinards
After the rain stopped we went back to the final row of the mar

This was written on the corner of every table in a train carriage in Belgium.

Baby, baby, I love you
buddha





buddha

Tell all the folks in Brussels and Waterloo
Please don’t miss this train at the station
‘Cause if you miss it, I feel sorry, sorry for you . . . .
buddha

Chet Baker singing ‘My Funny Valentine’ . . .  sweet, tender and for always . . .

Sometimes, the essence of a place resonates deep within my soul.  Such a place is Watersmeet, a river crossing in the Teign Valley.  I love to pause on the footbridge spanning the river.  Looking upstream, two waterways come together.  Looking downstream, they have joined and flow together to the sea.

Watersmeet
I love the confluence, the point where the two waterways converge.  The ripples and patterns on the surface of each are distinct and sometimes one or the other is silty or clear.  Each watercourse brings its own unique personality.  When they join each other, a new river is formed.
Steve and I captured this conflux with images and words, and put them together to make River Song.
buddha



buddha


RIVER SONG
Listen, hear our language
Spelt in ripples on rocks,
Chalked in the swirl of current
And the eddies in our stream.
Look, see our soul shine,
Fleet in dappling shades
That bind the sun and clouds
With waterlight in motion.
Touch, feel our breath,
Where waters meet at last,
Released from yearning
In the deepest depths our joining.
Rejoice, for we are river,
Fed by raindrop,
Suckled by cloud,
Maker of ocean,
Carver of life.
Steve Coxon
December 2008

Steve and I went away for two weeks over Christmas and New Year.   We stayed in a cottage in Shropshire with no TV, phone or internet access.  The setting - a secluded woodland in a lovely valley on the Welsh borders with only the howling of wolves from a nearby sanctuary to disturb us.

Cwm Ffrydd

Wagtail Cottage


One of the resident wolves, Madadh
We arrived after nightfall and passed a car in a layby being driven by Father Christmas!  About 20 minutes after we arrived at the cottage, said car pulled in and our landlord Tony Haighway stepped out, in full F.C. garb (having distributed Christmas gifts in Mainstone Community Hall).  He gave a long howl and got all four wolves howling along with him, accompanied by his Irish Wolfhound, Doodles.   Besides playing Father Christmas, Tony’s other hobby is collecting wolves and in 1993 he set up Wolf Watch UK, a rescue project dedicated to the conservation of wolves.
We were there in time to observe the Winter Solstice and continued to celebrate the holidays for the next fortnight in fine style with much feasting, merriment, walks through the countryside, daytrips to Wales and the occasional foray into Ludlow to replenish the larder.
Ludlow is a food lover’s paradise containing an impressive number of independent, specialist food shops:  five butchers, four bakers, cheese shops, delis, organic food shops . . . . . .  In addition, in and around Ludlow there are more Michelin starred restaurants than anywhere in Britain, outside of London.  But we both love to cook, so we mainly foraged and gathered ingredients for many fine meals.

High Class Butchers

Gamebirds
In between cooking, we took a couple of trips into Wales . . . . .


Caernarfon Castle

Portmeirion, Wales


View across the River Dwyrd
On New Year’s Eve, we got dressed up and . . . stayed in, opened a bottle of champagne, cooked a wonderful meal, watched ‘The Wizard of Oz’,  played Scrabble and rang in 2009 to the chimes of Big Ben (broadca

Perambulate, v. ‘to travel over or through, especially on foot, or ‘to walk with no particular goal, to stroll, to roam . . . ‘
Perambulation, n. ‘a leisurely walk, usually in some public place’
Latin perambulatus, from per - through + ambulare - to walk
buddha