peek and boo look for work

Somewhere in this land. Early morning. A tree around which two swallows dance in flight. Enter Peek.

Peek: (Shouts) Do you believe in me? (Waits for a few seconds, listening, listens again, wait for a few more seconds, then exits.)

Enter Boo.

Boo: (Shouts) Do you believe in me? (Waits for a few seconds, listening, listens again, wait for a few more seconds.)

Enter Peek.

Peek: I thought someone responded.

Boo: To who?

Peek: To me, who else

Boo: You're not the only one.

Peek: I know that, there would be no problem if I was.

Boo: It could have been to me.

Peek: So there was a response then?

Boo: Not to you!

Peek: To you?

Boo: No, not to anyone. Not from anyone.

Peek: Having you been looking for long?

Boo: Too long and yet not long enough.

Peek: I know that feeling, it's not even the work itself you look for after a while.

Boo: No? It is for me, what more does a man need.

Peek: Yes, but there is something else also, that feeling of belonging and worth.

Boo: I just need the bread.



(Light moves across the stage.)

Peek: Oh! There might be some life here.

Boo: There might be, who knows?

Peek: Ah! Something will turn up, it always does.

Boo: Does it?

Peek: Eventually, yes.

Boo: Eventually, (pause), yes.

Peek: The start, you know, that is all we need.

Boo: Yes, but why does it feel like the end to me.

Peek: That'll be you and your misery.

Boo: And you and your misery, what does it feel like?

Peek: Ah! To hell with yeah! I think there is some life around here yet.

(Light moves across the stage.)

Peek: See, there you go, it could be the start.

Boo: Oh, it'll be the start alright, shall we try again?

Peek: Ok, that's the lad, I'll go first.

(Peek moves forward stage three steps, waits, looks around, waits some more.)

Peek: (Shouts) Do you believe in me?

(Waits for a few seconds, listening, listens again, wait for a few more seconds. Boo moves forward stage three steps, waits, looks around, waits some more.)

Boo:(Shouts) Do you believe in me?

(Waits for a few seconds, listening, listens again, wait for a few more seconds.)

Peek: I thought there was something there, like a low hum, a reassuring sound, an engine just ticking over perhaps or the fan in an oven.

Boo: Or a heavy door closing, or a book. Yes, that was it, a heavy book closing, a big one, mind you, one of importance.

Peek: Will we try again?

Boo: We will. We will try again, what else is there to do?

Fade to black.


For more information ...
peek and boos discuss optimism
peek and boo discuss the simple life
peek and boo discuss life and meaning
peek and boo discuss thought and action
peek and boo discuss existentialism
peek and boo discuss writing
peek and boo discuss god
peek and boo discuss power

recommended reading

Here, in descending order, are my top recommendations from my 2007 reading.

1. Jimmy Corrigan, the smartest kid on earth by Chris Ware
find out more here
"the best graphic novel I have read, some of the pictures present complex familial histories in a way I have never seen before, a great central character and depth of emotion"

2. Agile Estimating and Planning.
find out more here
"a great and hugely pragmatic book for those looking to adopt an agile method for software development"

3. Imperium by Robert Harris
find out more here
"an easy but gripping read with a powerful attention to detail that brings life to ancient Rome"

4. The China Study by Dr. T. Colin Campbell
find out more here
"comprehensive, clear and good science that makes for a convincing argument regarding nutrition"

In 2005 just one work of fiction made it into my top 5, last year it was three, in 2007 it falls back to two. In 2007 I read 28 books (13 fiction, 16 non fiction) [2006-35 books(19 fiction, 16 non-fiction), 2005-35 books (5 fiction, 30 non-fiction)].

Of the 28 I read this year 6 were graphic novels so overall my reading has reduced a little and the amount of fiction I have read has increased also, both good things.



Complete 2007 reading list ...
Listed below are the books I read in 2007, books in bold type may also be worth a look.

Flashman in the great game - George MacDonald Frazier
The Acme Novelty Library Vol. 16 - Chris Ware
Quimby the Mouse - Chris Ware
The Acme Novelty Library - Chris Ware
Ice Haven - Daniel Clowes
The Acme Novelty Library Vol. 17 - Chris Ware
How to Haiku - Bruce Ross
Presense - Peter Senge, C. Otto Scharmer, Joespeh Awonski, Betty-Sue Flowers
The Great Learning - Master Nan Huai Chin
Pompeii - Robert Harris
The 10 minute coach - Fiona Harris
5 Myths of Consumer Behaviour - Csaba Tarnai
The manual of the warrior of light - Paulo Coelho
The inmates are running the asylum - Alan Cooper
The Coaching Bible - MacDonald Jago
Pilgrimage: Adventures of the Spirit - Editied by Jean & James O'Reilly
Happiness: Lessons from a new science - Richard Layaard
The illustrated encyclopedia of Buddhist Wisdom - Gill Farmer Halls
Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching - Aldis & Lombardo
Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
You can heal your life - Louise L Hay
Can do, how to achieve personal change and growth - Ben Tiggelaar
The Devil and Miss Prym - Paulo Coelho
The form of things - A.C. Grayling
Veronkia Decide to die - Paulo Coelho
The Valkyries - Paulo Coelho
The Zahir - Paulo Coelho
The 3 signs of a miserable job - Patrick Lencioni
Round Ireland with a Fridge - Tony Hawkes


For more information ...
2006 recommended reading
2005 recommended reading

myth of return

Take me back to those flooded deltas,
To the minarets of Mullaghmore.
Where fiddles play during Diwali
And Aid El Keibar in Kilfinoir.

Bring me to the crossroads
Where sitars play at saris glance.
A game of handball with the lads
Or perhaps kabbadi before the dance.

Teach me Hindi, Urdu and Irish
And we will speak as we did before,
When we left like parting lovers
In those yesterdays of dreams foretold.

Let me sing to Siddartha as Dev once did,
See Jesus and Krishna swap stories through the night.
May the women and men feel free in their love
Until the golden dawn, until the morning light.

But in the morning light day break delusions,
Dreams soon pass and reality will burn.
For Castlebar or Bangalore
We've dreamt once again this myth of return.
----------------------------------------

Written in July of 1994 and inspired by a study that revealed the Irish and Bangladeshis have the strongest sense of one day returning to their homeland. It contains a mix of Irish, Indian, Muslim, historical and geological references and I felt it was appropriate to post it given our imminent return to Ireland.

In places the words fail to scan and the lyric quality stumbles but I have decided to leave it in its original form.

What our return holds I don't know but we will be living close to a crossroads.

resignation

As a plough breaking up the sods of earth
and the hopper dropping a seed into the furrow.
Or as a knife plunging into flesh
and the blood spurting upon its return.
So I have looked for such significance.

An action pregnant with consequence
and birthing a new and different future.
Something other, something different,
not now, not ever been before.
The great expectation, the fulfilled promise of many a thought before sleeping
or before an unscratched lottery card.

I always thought there would be more but there is not,
life is, as it appears to be and no more.

Or is it?

In spite of our creation and wandering
for 70 or 7 million years
only the corner of the canvas remains blotted.
The vastness is untouched by most
and yet there are those who reach with brush and paint a great swathe.
And there are those who splash their color upon the ready and waiting whiteness.

Can I?

Pick up the plough, the knife or the paint brush
and stretch out into the future of my making.

The seed will grow, the blood will spill and in the end,
as always, the paint will dry.



--------------------------------------------------------------
Written in 20 minutes with probably 5 minutes of editing. An experiment in writing something inspired by my recent resignation from my job.

I have no job to go to but I would rather uncertainty in a future of my own making than certainty in a future that is not what I want.

A fool? perhaps.

jungfrukällan - the virgin spring

Sad to see the passing of Ingmar Bergman today. Most people remember his depiction of the Grim Reaper in The Seventh Seal but for me his best film is The Virgin Spring. It is a fable set in 14th century Sweden and explores themes such as innocence, jealousy, death and revenge.

I have an unfinished work that transplants the story into an Irish setting but retains the plot. It is in simple rhyming couplet form and I envisage it been like some of the Canterbury tales. I expect it wouldn't be half as good. The 89 minutes of the film would translate into a large poem and I have not had the creative or physical energy to pursue it but here it is, in unedited form, presented in remembrance of the departed Swede.


Cockcrow call the sun
And with the sunlight morning comes.
Let us look upon the hut
Where idle? Fi sparks the turf.
Eyes hooded dark and deeply felt
When with child she gives to vent.
"Anu, Danu, Don,
Anu, Danu, Don.
Mother of us all,
Mother of the soil.
Let this day break tender fruit
For you to drink of its juice.
Anu Danu Don,
Anu Danu Don."

Morning prayer on day that Saviour died
Welcome now a new and peaceful time.
Mother Mary mortifies her flesh.
As father does the chores before breakfast.
At wooden table seated now
With wooden bowls father, mother, Fi and Clow.
"Mother, does our child sleep late
Dreaming of dances as dance she did 'til late.
Go and awake her now so she may bring
The candles for the priest's blessing."
"I will awake her soon and to the church she will go
But 'til sweet dreams have passed and not before.
For tender is the night that softly lays
Unlike my ghostly visions that perturb my days."

Aisling, the maiden fresh as the spring fair
Still silent sleeps without world's care.
She'll go to mass late this morn
For the candles to be blessed by Father Tom.
Her mother pleads for her to rise
And the young girl does but at her ease.???
"Oh! mother dear, please may I wear my Sunday skirts
White stockings, blue shoes with pearls and the yellow shirt.
The skirts, the blue and the red
The fifteen maidens did weave with golden thread.
And finally to cover all
The darkest blue of my blue shawls."
"Now come! my child so sweet you must take care
Not to please so much the great seducers ear."

"When I was young I saw freedom would come
As a bird falls after flight to the sun.
Your comedy will soon begin", Clow says,
As he recalls wandering his young days.
Aisling now begins to mount
Fair Ban as Fi rides Dark Hunt.
From mother dear a final kiss goodbye
As father says "the Lord bless young life."
They leave the farm from wood it came
And back to wood they journey again.
Dark and fair through wood by lake they go,
Whistling in the trees these words sung by Clow.
"The winged bird will climb on high
And wander far in the spring time."


For more information ...
ingmar bergman
the virgin spring

the road is made by walking

The combination of a physical and mental journey and the interplay between both has attracted humans throughout the ages. The idea of pilgrimage is often associated with the fulfillment of a religious duty but first and foremost it fulfills a human need.

I have often found my reading has a meandering nature leading places I did not know existed or could not have planned visiting. Recently whilst reading Pilgrimage - Adventures of the Spirit, I came across the following lines from the Spanish poet Machado.

I thought the fire was out
I stirred the ashes
And I burnt my fingers.
- Antonio Machado

(photo: ravi bhavnani)

Great, simple lines that capture a moment, a Spanish haiku. My wife was somewhat familiar with Machado so I wikipedia'd him and came across this famous verse by him. What a great way to describe one's pilgrimage or journey through life.

Wanderer, your footsteps are
the road, and nothing more;
wanderer, there is no road,
the road is made by walking.
By walking one makes the road,
and upon glancing behind
one sees the path
that never will be trod again.
Wanderer, there is no road--
Only wakes upon the sea.

Caminante, son tus huellas
el camino, y nada más;
caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar.
Al andar se hace camino,
y al volver la vista atrás
se ve la senda que nunca
se ha de volver a pisar.
Caminante, no hay camino,
sino estelas en la mar.
- Antonio Machado, Proverbios y cantares XXIX" in Campos de Castilla.

(photo: boblycat)

I probably would hesitate to recommend Pilgrimage - Adventures of the Spirit, unless someone was particularly interested in journeys of a spiritual nature. It does contain some good essays by Jack Hitt on the Camino, Nicholas Shrady on Buddha's journey and Kent E. St.John on visiting the only German concentration camp based on French soil.

Although I am not Christian I would, one day, like to walk the Camino, to climb Croagh Patrick again, to visit Jerusalem and walk the stations of the cross. I would not expect to meet God along the way but I suspect I would learn more about my fellow man.

Meandering though it was, this post is done. Now let's go on.


For more information ...
antonio machado
pilgrimage - adventures of the spirit

where go the boats

(source: Henry W Taunt)

Dark brown is the river.
Golden is the sand.
It flows along for ever,
With trees on either hand.

Green leaves a-floating,
Castles of the foam,
Boats of mine a-boating—
Where will all come home?

On goes the river
And out past the mill,
Away down the valley,
Away down the hill.

Away down the river,
A hundred miles or more,
Other little children
Shall bring my boats ashore

Robert Louis Stevenson, from A Child's Garden of Verses, 1885.

I have made my own tune for this poem and have sung this to Tomas at night since he was born. We talk about this as been one of the 'old songs' and when I ask does he want one of the 'old songs', he says yes.

For more information ...
robert louis stevenson

an attempt at writing something positive

(photo: trace project, nasa)

light not heavy
now not then
air not earth
less not more
music not song
pictures not words
feeling not thinking
giving not taking
here not there
quiet not loud
we not I

leaving ithaca

Rain fall tropple,
Dipple, dopple,
Drupple, drapple.
Fall down, down, down.

Water fall down,
Over earth rising,
Boulder bank breaking,
Bedded earth rising.
Flow down, down, down.

To switching sands of shores uncertain,
To seas of strange and untrusting
Waters deep; deepened by our tears of woe
But then to go
Toward on high
Where clouds will fly onward home
From whence to roam and roam again
To wherever where, whenever when
Sometime soon we’ll meet again,
Somewhere where, some when, when.


A recent posting on still life ...with life reminded me of this effort from 12 years ago, so I decided to post it here.

I wrote this after visiting a friend who was attending Cornell in Ithaca, upstate New York. Ithaca's surroundings are dramatically cut by beautiful gorges and this probably prompted the water theme which I combined with an old favourite of mine, the theme of return. Although there are no direct references to Odysseus I was thinking of his return home to that other Ithaca in Greece after his travels.

Inventing words can come across as a naive pursuit and I'm not sure they fully work here but I have decided to leave the poem in the original November 1995 form. I also probably should apologize to Gerard Manley Hopkins as this is one of a few poems that has been influenced by his writings.


For more information ..
ithaca, usa
ithaca, greece
still life ...with life
gerard manley hopkins
inversnaid

turn, turn, turn

Got a brilliant children's book of illustrations from the library based on the text of Pete Seeger's classic "turn, turn, turn". It includes a CD with his version and the more popular version by the Roger McGuinn and The Byrds. The book is beautifully illustrated and Pete Seeger's live folk version has a raw and rough quality that for me is more attractive than the Byrds pop version.

I think the music seems timely given the changes we are about to go through.



To everything - turn, turn, turn
There is a season - turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under heaven

A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep

To everything - turn, turn, turn
There is a season - turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under heaven

A time to build up, a time to break down
A time to dance, a time to mourn
A time to cast away stones
A time to gather stones together

To everything - turn, turn, turn
There is a season - turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under heaven

A time of war, a time of peace
A time of love, a time of hate
A time you may embrace
A time to refrain from embracing

To everything - turn, turn, turn
There is a season - turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under heaven

A time to gain, a time to lose
A time to rend, a time to sew
A time to love, a time to hate
A time of peace, I swear it's not too late!



For more information ...
turn, turn, turn
Pete Seeger
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

the four seasons

Recently listening to Vivaldi's 'four seasons' I find myself surprised that I like them, as I had developed a distaste for them in the late '80's.

That time in Britain was dominated by the excesses of Thatcherite culture. It was a time of Gordon Gecko and 'greed is good' and the four seasons formed a musical backdrop for the last declining days of Margaret and her yuppies. The music became as common place as Constable's Haywain is on place mats and because of that probably undervalued, at least in my mind.

With a fresh and unprejudiced ear I have begun to listen to them again and found them to be great. My wife bought me Roberto Michelucci's take on them and I am thoroughly enjoying it. It almost makes me want to go out a buy Nigel Kennedy's take on Vivaldi. In particular I like the faster parts from Summer and Autumn, the allegros and presto.

Give them a listen, let me know what you think.

• Concerto No. 1 in E major, Op. 8, RV 269, "La primavera" (Spring)
  1. Allegro
  2. Largo
  3. Allegro
• Concerto No. 2 in G minor, Op. 8, RV 315, "L'estate" (Summer)
  1. Allegro non molto - Allegro
  2. Adagio - Presto - Adagio
  3. Presto
• Concerto No. 3 in F major, Op. 8, RV 293, "L'autunno" (Autumn)
  1. Allegro
  2. Adagio molto
  3. Allegro
• Concerto No. 4 in F minor, Op. 8, RV 297, "L'inverno" (Winter)
  1. Allegro non molto
  2. Largo
  3. Allegro

For more information ...
Antonio Vivaldi
the four seasons
Nigel Kennedy
Margaret Thatcher
wall street
hay wain
the four seasons recording by Roberto Michelucci

haiku challenge

Playing with the haiku form recently, I have begun to appreciate how difficult and yet how expansive it can be.

Here are some properties of a haiku

• a 3 line form consisting of 5, 7 and 5 syllables
• contains a word called (the kigo) which directly makes reference to the season, e.g. snow indicating winter
• incorporates a distinct grammatical break (the kireji) at the end of either the first or second line
• captures a moment or a setting
• haiku usually are reflections upon the natural world, senryu follow the same form but are reflections on human nature and may be humorous
• haiku and senryu usually manifest the Japanese aesthetic referred to as wabi-sabi, a beauty hallmarked by imperfection, impermanence, and incompleteness with a gentle slightly mournful appeal.

Here are some haiku and senryu.

The first soft snow!
Enough to bend the leaves
Of the jonquil low.
- Basho

the morning paper
harbinger of good and ill
- - I step over it
- McCroskey

grab and go coffee ...
breathe to let stories unfold
tea leaves brew slowly
- alan mee

My Online Girlfriend
Might be a supermodel
Or a big fat man.
- mr. big

summer is coming
break out the barbecue set
enjoy undercooked meat
- five spice


The challenge, compose a haiku or senryu and post here. The people who reply can decide the winner. The prize, a smug inner glow.

For more information ...
haiku
wabi-sabi
apple flower