Showing posts with label jane. Show all posts
Showing posts with label jane. Show all posts

Tuesday, 8 September 2015

Trains, Planes and Public Conveniences (2)


TRAINS,  PLANES AND PUBLIC CONVENIENCES (2)


'Now I'm sensing, My Pretty, you find life quite shitty. Forgive me, of course, if I'm wrong . . . 

'But, I've heard this thing said; it concerns 'Mindfulness'. (You can buy all the books for a song.)'

I carried on chopping the vegetables. 

'Yes . . . 

'It's some kind of a hybrid: a counselling thing (CBT and Zen philosophy). 

'You don't have to believe; just remember to breathe. Study raisins, and learn how to be.'

'I really don't care for dried fruit,' I said.

'Oh, get over yourself,' hissed the Priestess. 

Thursday, 25 July 2013

Nescio (30)


NESCIO (30)


Theough the priestess had wedged cottonwool in her ears, still partially blind she could hear very clear. The sister continued to wail silently; the priestess was shocked to shake so violently.

The priestess decided to form a women's group; damaged and down-trodden, they formed quite a troop. They met regularly in the priestess' herb garden and spoke of such things they would rather have forgotten.

Despite good intentions, her sympathy was lacking. She knew that her patient look was subsiding and cracking.

'For God's sake,' she snarled, 'will you me some slack here?'

Her only concern now: the miserable sister.


The priestess soon found herself back on the street. (At least the medicated corn plasters eased her sore feet.)

Saturday, 20 July 2013

Nescio (27)


NESCIO (27)


The sister disappeared underground.

Though her body appeared to walk the earth, her mind was forsaken; lost hell-bound.

Twenty-four/seven, over thousands of miles, she called for the man who'd made her life worth-while.

Twenty-four/seven, over thousands of miles, she searched for the boy who'd made her laugh and smile.

She stumbled through shadows, bruised black and blue.

Heart aching crushed and out of breath, she longed for reprieve amd willed her own death.

In the end, in misery, she made a pact with the gods: give my brother and lover back; I'll trade in my lot.

Thursday, 13 June 2013

Nescio (11)


NESCIO (11)


The priestess woke up.
Her sight was still blurred.
Her kidneys were aching.
Her tongue yellow-furred.

She stared at the ceiling, all ridden with worm. She wondered, 'oh, my - what have I become?'

She crawled into the bathroom and stared in the mirror. Though partially-sighted, she stepped back in horror when she saw her reflection.

On closer inspection, she changed her mind (notwithstanding the fact she was partially blind).

On closer inspection she changed her mind:

'If I nurture myself, if I learn to be nice, if I practise compassion and take some advice; if I colour my hair and start to dress smart (dress classy, that is, and not like a tart). If I apply a foundation and then lose some weight, perhaps, my self-loathing will start to abate?

'Perhaps, after all, it's not all too late?'

The priestess decides to take some time out; time to be quiet, time to hang out. Quality 'me-time', to use the vernacular: nothing extravagant, nothing spectacular.

Just a couple of weeks without any contact.

Monday, 10 June 2013

Nescio (10)


NESCIO (10)


The daughter - all drama - was quick to dismiss.

It was his son, her brother, the father really missed.

In a far-away kingdom, increasingly bleak, he searched for the boy to whom he could not speak.

He cradled his cheek, full of misery and death. His eyes scanned the ceiling. He held onto his breath.

But, the brother continued to live in silence: a quiet albeit unintended kind of violence.

And the father, anyway, still had nothing to say. (He could no longer distinguish between night and day.)

The sister - all drama - just didn't get it. If you loved somebody, then, surely you said it?

The daughter - all drama - made a regular habit of it.

She had learned to accept it was rarely reciprocated.

Thursday, 6 June 2013

Nescio (8)


NESCIO (8)


The sister was enraged.

She resented the brother for finding another life without her.

(She decided to get engaged.)

As the years went by she began to go spare; wherever she looked, the brother wasn't there.

She screamed inside and pulled out her hair.

(The wedding was a quiet affair. She wasn't prepared to change her name.)

She learned to believe that, when things went wrong, it was her who was to blame.

(The marriage didn't last that long.)

The priestess was too pissed to care.


Tuesday, 1 January 2013

Semiotics Of Photography: V


V is for Very (Short Hair) and Very (Naive To Boot At That Time)

Saturday, 29 December 2012

Semiotics of Photography: U

U is for Undercover (Programme Leader)


A myopic visionary

Monday, 2 July 2012

From No Id To Just Say No

The Id is driven by the pleasure principle, which strives for immediate gratification of all desires.

If these wants are not satisfied, a state of tension and/or anxiety results. 

A baby's impulse to cry when its needs are not immediately met ensures -  in the right (mother's) hands - survival. 

In time, the young child develops the Ego (the reality principle that enables the individual to attempt to obtain what it needs by means which are deemed socially acceptable); and, later, the Superego (a sort of moral map, gauge or guide).

In adulthood, the Superego can become highly-developed, usually as a consequence of childhood needs being ignored, or of some terrible trauma. The adult no longer screams and wails (as a baby would do); instead, she may become pathetically compliant or mute.  Simultaneously, she loses touch with the Id, except through nightmarish dreams where death and destruction reign.



Despite the chronic condition (both causes and symptoms) of an over-developed Superego, the disease is neither progressive nor terminal. Indeed, an external trigger (such as a sympathetic, long-term companionship or collaboration) can jolt the Ego back into action and within months, the individual will find an increased ability to articulate, once again, her desires and wants.

The subsequent articulation of what is - to all extents and purposes - self-presevation manifests itself in numerous ways, according to various controlled experiments and psycho-analytic case-studies.

The Ego may speak eloquently and subtly or more bluntly and simply; expressing itself by a vehement 'no' to all unreasonable and selfish demands. This act of defiance further enhances the Ego's growth: a pleasure in itself.






Friday, 22 June 2012

You Make The Tea. I Will Draw (No New Words)

Part Four

Then, Jane entered puberty.
She began styling her hair,
While Peter remained puerile.
But, no-one seemed to care

That he wore the same clothes 
That he'd always done.
He was a boy, after all.
He deserved to have fun.

Jane scoffed silently to herself
When Peter drew a flower.
But, despite her knowing maturity
He yet wielded sibling power.



Thursday, 21 June 2012

'Here's A Tree', Says Jane, 'And Here Are Some Flowers'

Part Three

But, Jane wasn't having any of that.
She was damned
If she were going to spend 
Nine months getting fat.

So she began to compete.
Put in the hours.
Her only mistake
Was to focus on trees and flowers.

For, as feminist historians
Have rightly realised,
Flower painting is/was considered lowly,
Neither acclaimed nor highly prized.



Wednesday, 20 June 2012

Have A Look, Jane (Boat Man)

Part Two

It was Jane who suggested the painting,
But Peter who took centre stage.
The Artist-as-Genius kept on creating.
In contrast
The hope was
Jane would start procreating 
As soon as she came of age.



To be continued . . . .

Monday, 18 June 2012

'Let Us Draw', Says Jane (Draw Us)

Or, Why Have There Been No Great Women Artists?  

Part One



.

To be continued . . . .

Thursday, 14 June 2012

Peter And Jane See Daddy Go Up And Down (An Apple Apples)

Note how, latterly, Jane adopts the same knee position as Daddy: possibly unconsciously, certainly posthumously.





But, unlike Daddy, Jane preferred not to come down.