Category Archives: Latest Story

Home Sapiens – Wise man


Acquired: 15/05/2018

The reason that ‘Sapiens’ survived his much stronger peer (Homo) species, and other dangerous animals for the last 70,000 years is becoz the ‘Wise’ one had an edge over the other cave people, and foragers/hunters – he understood the power of communication, collaboration and he gossiped!! wow.


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tyModelInTheArtistsStudio 001

“The Artist’s Studio” by Tatjana Jablonskaja


Pauses in the studio, are

different to other kind of pauses

contemplative, thoughtful , long or

short bouts of reflection.


stretch those limbs for renewed energy

grace the mind to dream a life

heart fluffed with new passion

a chosen separation to refine the soul.


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Filed under Latest Story, Me & My Art, Poetry

Pursuits et al

It is good to fail

perhaps many times

life runs out of tricks.

(Haiku from ‘Bonds of Freedom’)


My dear friend and writer, Shal has just published her fiction novel, and I proudly announce it to my readers that I was a participant in the journey. I am predicting it will be a hit. You can connect with us on facebook, and order your copy of  Bonds of Freedom

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lost words

string of thought

“So many words get lost. They leave the mouth and lose their courage, wandering aimlessly until they are swept into the gutter like dead leaves. On rainy days, you can hear their chorus rushing past: IwasabeautifulgirlPleasedon’tgoItoobelievemybodyismadeofglass-I’veneverlovedanyoneIthinkofmyselfasfunnyForgiveme….

There was a time when it wasn’t uncommon to use a piece of string to guide words that otherwise might falter on the way to their destinations. Shy people carried a little bunch of string in their pockets, but people considered loudmouths had no less need for it, since those used to being overheard by everyone were often at a loss for how to make themselves heard by someone. The physical distance between two people using a string was often small; sometimes the smaller the distance, the greater the need for the string.

The practice of attaching cups to the ends of string came much later. Some say it is related to the irrepressible urge to press shells to our ears, to hear the still-surviving echo of the world’s first expression. Others say it was started by a man who held the end of a string that was unraveled across the ocean by a girl who left for America.

When the world grew bigger, and there wasn’t enough string to keep the things people wanted to say from disappearing into the vastness, the telephone was invented.

Sometimes no length of string is long enough to say the thing that needs to be said. In such cases all the string can do, in whatever its form, is conduct a person’s silence.”

― Nicole Krauss, The History of Love

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Filed under Latest Story, The making of Me

Part of me

art at brick lane

“Part of me is made of glass, and also, I love you.”

― Nicole Krauss, The History of Love

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Filed under Latest Story, The making of Me

Brew up a kiss


I’ve given you enough warning

I’m not a great person to love, with

My shall-we-have-tea-first temper

It’s a destroyer? Me –thinks not.


I’m not just lips, and skin and poems

I’m a mansion, almost an abode

I’ll take you to galleries and sad movies

Kiss you in front of Gustav’s spot.


At times fresh pecks in bird-chirpy gardens

 caresses oft’ musty libraries & monuments

The smells you will gather in the recesses

Of your cortex, will keep you hot.


Pillager yes. Like a storm, inflamed

plunging berries soaked in soil inseparable

Exhilarating though, Leave you an earthy &  emotional

Toil, stains that do not blot.


Gustav Klimt, The Kiss , 1908–1909

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In search of stones

Explains Joseph Campbell

‘If the path before you is clear,

You’re probably on someone else’s.’

The dignified , and rich with experience

world, offers you a compatible life;

you subdue a gnawing

hunger for chaos, for non

conformity, you feel

suffering in just being.


You will flip, he says

You will feel incongruity.

You will venture into a realm

Of danger, creativity, in a quest for

Bliss, which is yours, there Is no strife.

The search for life you start, in the

 darkness of creative pleasure,

endure its pain and torture; love

and hate through your art.


you have intensity, you embrace

discomfort, marvel at your adventures.

You will experience the trials, and loss

Gain inspiration, and traverse that path

That’s yours, dignified, and rich from learning

Towards a compatible life.


Watercolour : Stanislav Holota


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Original watercolour : Stanislav Holota

Lack of order they say

Gradual decline,

It is the opposite of creative endeavor;

 I see it as a sign.


Seeds degenerating and sprouting

Into little radicle seedling,

The random little stem finding its way

towards the sun and smiling.


Or animal matter decaying

And providing healthy dung,

Stinking organic life, paving

For new life to be sprung.


The smaller minds and their karmas

The larger with attached chaos,

Sincere thoughts amidst

Incessant fake pathos.

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Hang out

Derick and I

we hang out, like

a lot.

we are a little alike

as friend are,

we enjoy people watching

at the café, sit catlike

we love our cosy creamy skin

narcissts by faar,

most of all, we love being alone

together, like

a lot.




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Filed under Latest Story, Poetry, Silly

Wild flower


Grow like a wild flower

In all the places where

You wouldn’t think

Anything grows;


Climb  unknown buildings,

Little paths , In abandon

Through cracks

Untamed, yet

Easily broken


Blooming, shying

Just sprouting impulsive

No petals or thorns

Only pure



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