Closer, Jon and something I can rely on

1. I like a song called "Closer" by Ne-Yo. It expresses something of how I feel just now.

2. I talked to my good friend Jon in Canada on MSN today. As always he made me feel that the world is even more beautiful than I had noticed.

3. Change is something I can rely on.

4am, fine 4am's and my sunflower

1. Four am is the dead of night really and I was awake this morning from then to see the dawn and lick my wounds. My heart was in a vicious mood. Sad and angry and embarrassed with itself. There is also something very special about 4am. It's a private and lonely time. Mostly the immeadiate world is sleeping, even more unaware of what's around them than during their waking dream. This four am I was pacing about thinking, mulling things over and trying to find some equilibrium. I was feeling desperate and then resolved and then uncertain and then strong. Everything began to seem like a dream. I was tired having had a matter of a very few hours sleep and weepy and lonely. It was a pathetic sight I'm sure. By dawn I was calmer, pacified with tiredness.

2. There have been some pretty fine 4am's. I met with a 4am friend to talk about my woes and get some advice. It was good advice. And having a friend who can say anything to you and who can hear anything you have to say without judgement or prejudice is without comparison.

3. My sunflower flower flowered. It seemed to express the optimism I had lost. Its about nine foot tall and the bright yellowness of it shines out in my yard like a beacon of beautiful joy. Every home should have one. I talked some more, and cried some more and then laughed and giggled and felt my feet touch the ground again.

Pouring rain, a smile and the only certain thing is change

1. Just this moment there seems so little I could find to list as beautiful in me. But that's not what writing this is about, so here is my first beautiful thing: Walking in pouring rain late at night and getting soaked through. I imagine the raindrops are like someone comforting me with the lightest touch when I'm sad. And I'm unusually and unreasonably sad. I am grateful to my friends who continue to be patient with my melancholy and offer their unconditional kindness and love. Thank you.

2. I met the homeless bloke on Stonegate that I came across a couple of weeks ago. He smiled and just about remembered me. I hugged him, he told me his name and he smiled. It was impossible to leave him without regretting my inability to do something to help him through. He generously helped me in a moment of such lowness to carry on and for that I am enormously humbled.

3. A friend who felt he had never been found was able to say that at last he had been. I am happy for him but have to admit to a sadness that something got lost between us as a result. I continue to try to accept that the only certain thing in living is that things will change.

Optimism, the Minster and his reflection

1. I woke up this morning and could think only of one beautiful thing. But I did feel so very much better than for the last couple of days. I really had lost equilibrium. This morning I began to reclaim the infatuated me. It was a confusing day at work. At times it seemed almost too much, but something of the optimism of my waking thought kept me going.

2. I walked through the city this evening and I struck by the beauty of the Minster. I'm often taken by the magnificence of that building. It is always surprising and inspiring.

3. Being able to tell someone you trust your truth is an incredible experience. Owning whats true is liberating. This evening I was talking to my heart, and he knows me, about the past and the present. He described me as his reflection and I could describe him as mine.

Wobbly, beyond 'Monday sickness' and Brokeback Mountain

1. A really good friend was on-line this morning when before I went to work and it was wonderful that there was someone who was kind enough to be say hello. I have been feeling wobbly during the last few days.

2. During the day I felt ill. Beyond 'Monday sickness'. I have no energy and my stomach has been turning and churning like a tumble drier.

3. I watched Brokeback Mountain. Again. I cried. Again. It expresses an experience that resonates. And my early morning friend understands...

Love sick, wasting time and what should I do?

1. The pursuit of three beautiful things has become lost amid a swelling tide of emotions and changes in my life. I cannot help but be honest and report that what is happening in my life is complicated. I have barely been able to eat, I can't sleep and I'm finding it difficult to concentrate. None of this is bad. It's simply different. I'm explaining this because I feel badly that I haven't kept up with this blog. Today I feel sick, perhaps that's fitting. My friend described me as 'love sick' and that's possible.

2. I'm also tired. Tired of wasting time.

3. What should I do? I think I mentioned before that Emma described me as "lost". She was right. So what should I do?

Chiching, golden red and a generous deal

1, Chiching is an activity most of us indulge in a good deal of the time. It is a description of the voice we have inside that commentates on everything in a continuous and unrelenting manner. I used to think that one day it might stop. Perhaps in a moment of Kensho. Chiching has its own beauty when considered compassionately. Some people think that the achievement of Kensho as a step leading to total enlightenment, satori, by recognising that duality is an illusion and that there is no reality to the dialectic battle between wrong and right, good and evil, black and white that we scaffold and construct so completely. Chiching is my constant companion. I’m very grateful to those who have the patience to listen to my chich with compassion.

2. Golden red.

3. Negotiating a generous deal.

Emma and Laura, my cardoon and the first second

1. Emma and Laura are two beautiful human beings without whom my life would cease to be exquisitely rich. This picture was taken at Laura's 22nd birthday party on Saturday. There was a lot of Guitar Hero and smoke machine in Portsmouth, not to mention rain. There was a good deal of rain.

2. My cardoon flowered today and it really is beautiful. It looks something like a gentle blue thistle and an artichoke and it has grown to be about seven foot high and has survived my best attempts at neglect. I took this photograph in the rain.

3. The most wonderful thing said to me today described something beyond the beyond about this next moment of my my life and his "It is the first second of the new millennium to me". I cannot wait to walk in the rain together.

Home, snuggly sentiments and no mountain high enough

1. Getting back to York after what seemed like a long trip to Portsmouth and Oxford made me appreciate home more than ever.

2. I bought The Script album and shared it's snuggly sentiments not quite as secretly as I should have.

3. A conversation made entirely of song titles. "Ain't no mountain high enough...to keep me from you". I could add "ain't no beach long enough..." and so much more.

Shower, something, too

1. Shower the people you love with love
2. Love is recognising something in another person that you have in you
3. Trees need love too

Homeless, piss x and ready to take off

1. On my way in to work this morning I was walking down Goodramgate and a man came towards me, on crutches asking for money and saying that he hadn't eaten for two days. Usually. No that's just stupid, there is no usually. Lets say often. Often in the past have ignored this kind of interaction, or slipped an embarrassed pound coin or bought a copy of Big Issue and scurried off with it. But for some reason I stopped and chatted to this bloke. He told me that he was from York originally and that he'd lost his home to a mean landlord and that he'd moved away but now he was back and homeless. He told me he had a partner, a boyfriend and that they were living in a tent but had been attacked during the night and the tent was slashed. He brought out his wallet and showed me a photograph of his boyfriend. He was definitely cute. And I said so. We had a cigarette together. I tried to give him advice about Arc Light and the Homelessness Prevention Team and the Salvation Army...he'd done all those... I found a two pound coin in my ratty bag and he grinned the most beautiful toothless and optimistic grin. He was a charming, lovely man and I wished I'd found something better for him. But most of all I wished I'd hugged him just for a moment, just to say thank you for stopping and talking to me, just to encourage him to keep going and find something better for him and his boy.

2. I had another text message this morning which made me laugh out loud. It read "its amazing how one letter can alter things. Anywhere would be fantastic with you Dave. Piss x". I did almost wet myself. Of course it wasn't really funny to anyone else but me.

3. Being ready to take off at any moment was once a way of life for me. Recently some of the spirit of that adventurous mind set has returned to me. I have been challenged to consider alternatives I thought might never be offered ever again. The toothless man and the funny text message were two of those chances today. I hope the homeless man and his boyfriend find something good and somewhere to sleep and get on with their lives. I wish I had helped him properly but I didn't. The text message was full of wit and happiness and its compliment irrisisitable and flattering. I hope its true, I know that anywhere would be fantastic with you. Tugs oxo.

Allan, out of the blue and green tea ice cream

1. It was Allan's birthday today. We sat and watched him open his presents and admired his cards and the witty messages. We have been best friends for exactly ten years to the day. I gave him a new stripy shirt and some books and a pair of hideous slippers. The slippers turned out to be a little bit small. It was especially lovely to see him be happy and contented. Without his kindness, generosity and patience I would not have the good fortune to be having the amount of fun I'm having just now. He has encouraged me to look beyond the attachments I have treasured and to let some of them just go and leave me for good.

2. As if this wasn't sufficient I received a couple of text messages which were mind-blowing. The first said "I feel like doing something out of the blue with you" and the second seemed to suggest something so humongous and wonderful that I immediately and without second thought replied "OK".

3. I have spent the day in pretty constant pain. My back, which seems to have a weakness these days when I play too hard, has been having a stress since Saturday's happiness's. This evening we went to supper in town and drank Chinese beers and laughed and talked about Belgium. It was fun and distracted me from the pain. Green tea ice cream at the indochine restaurant was subtle and delicately flavoured and combined perfectly with the fabulously gaudy deep fried toffied bananas. The pain subsided a bit and Allan had his birthday tea and all was well in the world.

Chocolate Hotel, 360 degrees and cranachan

1. It seemed to take all morning for me to get ready to go out for a stroll around town with Emma. Eventually I got myself together and despite an outrageously sore back we wandered about, arm in arm, giggling and searching for birthday presents for Allan. We went to Chocolate Hotel on Coney Street. It is a chain of course but for a chocoholic it would be heaven. As we went in we were offered the most wonderful Turkish Delight I can remember eating. I'm not really that keen usually. I'm still recovering from a childhood of Fry's offering which was grim red stuff covered in indifferent chocolate. This stuff was very delicate. The store is filled with a pretty impressive selection of chocolate and Emma found the gift she was looking for with very little trouble.

2. Staying with the shopping theme, I like this website York 360 which is series of visitor pages with some reasonable recommendations and great panoramic photographs of the city. It's a beautifully produced site that is definitely worth consulting.

3. Emma made a fabulous sweet for after our supper this evening. Cranachan with fresh raspberries inspired by a recipe in Jason Atherton's book Maze. It is a traditional Scottish pudding which I first had somewhere near Stoor on the northwest coast of Scotland. Emma used what remained of some Baileys instead of malt whisky and it was a pretty good substitution.

Sally Oldfield, Fairburn Ings and Bridget Jone's Diary

1. My friend picked me up this morning from the station and the first song playing on his stereo sounded very familiar. It was Sally Oldfield singing a song from her first album "Water Bearer". I don't quite remember the track probably Mirrors. It was a bit of a magical moment of when the record first came out and today the song he played was a beautiful introduction to an outstanding visit with an exceptional human being.

2. After an intense morning locked in an intimate inter locution we went for a walk around the RSPB Fairburn Ings nature reserve. We strolled, literally around the whole park, which is a recovered coal mine site. It has large ponds and open reserve areas with an incredible flora of common wildflowers and lots of birds and their twitcher fans. The weather was glorious and blue and sunny. It was a carefree few hours of lovely company and happy scenery. I felt blissfully happy and calm.When we got to the village of Fairburn my ingenious interlocutor took me to a little art emporium The Wild Goose Gallery. The bloke in there was very keen and friendly. We looked around making considerate comments about the paintings and objects. It was very sweet. Not my taste at all but entertaining nevertheless. We completed the circuit by walking along the road me in the lead to protect my woosie friend from oncoming vehicles and singing (not so very well) songs from the shows. It was a fine day spent with a very fine human being. My heart as always beating full and optimistically.

3. Emma and I needed a 'chick flick' this evening probably for very different reasons to get us through those feelings you can't quite talk about but which have to be processed somehow. When my friend returned me home after the lovely experience in Fairburn it was a wrench to say goodbye. It felt as though the day should have continued forever. I was tired and emotional. Emma and I watched the movie "Bridget Jone's Diary" together snuggled up on the couch with supper on plates and laughing and a little bit tearful now and again recognising how very stupid and happy it is to be in love. We must have seen this particular film a few times together, we probably always laugh at the same places and I probably get all gulpy when the Gabrielle song comes up. It was the predictably and comfortingly the same today, making BJD a definite beautiful thing to be savoured for a variety of unconditional reasons.

Friday, JustGiving and a few pages glued together

1. Friday is always an exciting prospect. I got up this morning hoping some of the rotten things that have happened over the last few days had been a bad dream. I looked to see if things had changed but they had not. All the usual stuff happened. Bacon sandwiches, discussions about the forthcoming weekend, speculation about Big Brother evictions and discussion about colleagues and work pals. I can trust Fridays to be the last of the week's effort. I have the prospect of some exciting moments for this weekend and especially to see and spend some moments with my good friend, Laughing Man. What was once a kindness now seems like an unkindness. I miss something, made up of that that big empty unreasonable space that I find impossible to fill.

2. Lawrence Lennon is a person who works at City of York Council. This boy is doing a sponsored parachute jump for Marie Curie Cancer Care. I don't very often get drawn to requests for sponsorship from people I don't know. I don't know this lad, but he seems to be brave, and that's inspiration for me. I'd encourage my friends and family to give him support in his adventurous quest. You can donate to his fundraising web page an keep up -to-date with him on line. Go to JustGiving and donate a sum of any value now. His jump is on September 13 at Bridlington. Good luck. Just do it!

3. We all have a few pages glued together. Sometimes I wish that wasn't as true as it turns out it is. My book is full of words but they don't all make sense. I read whole paragraphs which really don't seem to have any sense and lack confidence and fairness. Doesn't seem to be any way to make it better. I wish there was.

Nectarines, The Dark Knight and Hilary's retirement day

1. Nectarines are lovely. I had one today and the juice inconveniently dribbled down my chin.

2. I went with Emma and my friend Brian to see The Dark Knight at City Screen. Emma had seen it before and enjoyed it the second time, I found it a bit long but thought it was pretty fine and reflected the fear and loathing America seems to have for itself and the rest of the world and Brian hated it which was probably predictable. Emma made the point that it wasn't a conventional Hollywood ending with happiness and resolution. I got confused about who was good and who was bad and that seemed a very sharp observation. Brian just thought it was a bad film. Heath Leger was incredible as The Joker. I know there has been a huge amount of hype since we lost him. It took nothing to ignore that. Laughing Man came to mind, how could the writers have known his character so well?

3. This was Hilary's retirement day from Channel Four. I gave her a call this evening and we chatted about the past and the future. She said she knew I was the only person who would know how she feels. It was possibly a slight exaggeration but I was glad we had an opportunity to connect and remind each other that the only certain thing is change. She was wobbly and sentimental and vulnerable. I think we were able to move past regret and she was acknowledging just how generous the experience had been and as importantly just how much she has been able to contribute to her industry as a result. I reminded her that Hilary must find her 'no'. As she and I both recognise the danger now is that she says 'yes' to everything. I said 'no' to someone in the last few days. I have found it the most painful and lonely thing to do. Almost immediately I tried to take it back, but the statement was made and the throw away "whatever" response given back. Sometimes I'm when I'm feeling lost I find myself asserting that friendship and humanness will win the day whatever happens. It is an optimistic state of thinking because it relies on other people's trusting compassion. Of course people lie, but that doesn't necessarily mean they are worthless. People make mistakes.

The man who can't be moved, a bright sparkle and the spontaneous one

1. It cannot be wrong to love someone just because you do. This morning I arrived at work and my friend told me that Next Boy was leaving for another job elsewhere. Until that moment I hadn't realised how much I'd grown to love him in the few months he's been with us. He is a nice, funny man with a gorgeous open heart. He arrived all smiling and clean-looking and I told him how mad I was that he was going, just when we'd got to like him, just when we could trust that he had an enthusiasm and a fine will. He said he had a song on his pod of joy he thought I'd like to hear. I listened to it: The Script "The man who can't be moved" and moistened. I listened to it just now and cried, big tears, really big tears. Great sadness and sense of loss that Next Boy is going and at the same time enormously happy for him. The song is generic rubbish, but expresses the feelings so very well, and I've put the video here to remind me.



2. Being soft-hearted I'm feeling a bit sensitive to almost anything. Little Phil got in touch today by email. Here's another beauty. A human being. We had a brief email conversation about the kind of stuff we often chat about...and the news is he'll be off soon too. I have been so very fortunate in recent months to meet some truly perfect human beings and this bloke is right up there. I really wish him well. He is a bright sparkle in a dull cloud.

3. I have been lost. Emma pointed this out to me recently. She was spot on. Friendship and love remind me that there is good cause to carry on trying to make a difference and trying to find a way to be true and trusting instead of lying and being suspicious. I have tried to be a friend to he-who-shall-not be named and curiously at every turn that friendship has been dislodged and disowned. Like the man in the song above, I have not been moved from my task to care about this person and I doubt that I ever will. My soft heart was moved yesterday by a spontaneous and high octane event of friendship and the love that is generated and inevitably drives it forward. My heart is beginning to fill again after a long period of emptiness. I am so thankful that there are beautiful, amazing and generous people in the world. My heart has been bursting with excitement and happiness and I have been full, really full of love for all my friends, especially the spontaneous one, who is truly loved and respected and cared for. We both know what happened and why.

Love is letting go of fear, indochine and a three way conversation

1. I took the day off work and caught up with chores at home. It was also presented an opportunity to clear up some complicated misunderstandings with a good friend. I was thinking about the book by Gerry Jampolsky "Love is Letting Go of Fear". I read this book perhaps 25 years ago and it helped me to change the way I am in the World. That seems like ridiculous over-statement but it really did. Although most of the stuff contained in this book would be likely to elicit scepticism and positive aversion if I were to read it today, the title does sum up a way of viewing relationships which has been my goal, however poorly achieved, since I first read it. I have given this book to a number of people, some of whom have really understood why, some of who really haven't and some of whom found something else. What I know is that the statement "love is letting go fear" has given me a reason to get over myself when I have been self-indulgently miserable, and a proper ethic to stand by.

2. Allan and I went out for supper to indochine, a South East Asian Cuisine restaurant at 9 King Street. We went at around 6.30pm and so benefited from their cheaper but limited early menu. The unique thing at this restaurant is the sort of tapas style of little dishes you can order. What we ate was delicious. I especially enjoyed tempura vegetables and fried aubergines. The skewers of chicken and lamb were made historic with their accompanying sauces. The atmosphere was pleasant, the service was charming. I can't wait to go again and try some of the other stuff on the menu. The lady who served us kindly made sure we had a menu to take home and slobber over, particularly for those times when I just can't get it together to cook.

3. My third beautiful thing was unexpected. A three way MSN conversation. No big deal really but I was amused that the person who suggested it wanted to do it all. I've had my first on-line three way. What are the chances?

A sandwich, accidents and the fear of loosing something beautiful

1. In anticipation of the Channel Four Dispatches programme to be shown on television this evening I went to Pret a Manger and had a Chicken and Avocado sandwich. It was awesome. The programme was perhaps a bit predictable and it wasn't that much of a surprise that there's a lot of crap and salt and fat and poor production in shop bought sandwiches. Also in anticipation of shock I made a homemade sandwich which would have been a delight to eat if I hadn't wanted a last hurrah! at Pret. I gave mine to my friend at work, her need was definitely greater than mine. So from now on its a beautiful homemade sandwich for me on workdays.

2. A good conversation about the meaning of life or the lack of meaning to life is worth a lot. The idea that everything has a purpose or that nature (whatever that is) has a goal is an illusion I came to recognise a while back. I used to believe that there was a meaning in everything, that all manifestations were part of a grand and omniscient plan. I used to believe in the axiom "There are no accidents". Now I wonder if there are only accidents, beautiful undefinable collisions of chemical particles that we can't comprehend the origin of. Sometimes something can be said accidentally that can change everything about how we understand each others intentions and actions. It is easy to panic and try to make an explanation there and then. To describe things from the gut reaction and to find some reasoning which will make it all seem good or account for why it all seems so bad. Today I began to step back a little from the panic. It wasn't successful, but I tried.

3. The third wonderful thing of the day is that just sometimes someone tries not to lie. That's an extraordinary feat. It seems almost impossible. There always seems to be something to protect. It may be another illusion of course. What seems worth doing almost anything to hide may simply turn out to have been an illusion anyway. I was challenged today to tell the truth. I wondered what that could mean. I wasn't convinced I knew what would be the truth. Is there ever a way to describe an event objectively? Scientists think they can by repeating conditions exactly and taking note of specific measures over and over until there is a negative or positive correlation. It's not so simple with emotional events. Suppose you felt you had been compromised by the indiscretion of a friend. How could you describe the experience objectively? There would be your experience, your friends experience and the experience of those to whom your friend had compromised you with. Its complicated, there's nothing obviously objective that everyone would agree to. But the commitment to not lie about your experience is a step forward. Someone asked me something like did I think the Earth had a chance of surviving? I used to always have a positive response to this question and now I still do. I think probably not. The 'world' as we know it is fucked. It's going into decline. It's a collision of circumstances, neither wrong nor right, especially not those particular two human constructions. The only human construction that counts for anything in me just now is the challenge not to lie. I think I'm making a reasoned attempt, but in the process I fear I'll loose something beautiful...

Lost, met and found

1. Lost a love, the smirker was harsh and unreasonable. But it was beautiful till then.

2. Met a friend, discrete, handsome and reasonable. And it was beautiful there an then.

3. Found the voice to say "no more". He-who-shall-not be named is toast. Beautiful toast then.

Digger, poached eggs and an afternoon nap

1. It seems ridiculous to suggest that someone could change your life with a smile. But my happy fortune has been to meet a few fine human beings who have effortlessly accomplished a cathartic change in my psyche. I generally refer to them as the Real Human Beings. I met one of the RHB's whose aura of happiness and courage has inspired me to treat those I love with renewed reverence and respect. Digger is a charming and honest brightness in a sometimes dull and deceitful little world. My life is better than ever today from enjoying Digger's fearless directness and heart-warmed humour.

2. After a very hot night of delightful sleeplessness, a shared shower, tenderly washed and loved, I needed to assume the role of day. I made a breakfast of poached eggs, fried clumps of mashed sweet potato and tomatoes. It was perfect in the moment, shared with the best company a man could wish for and with the early morning promise of heat and sun. My heart felt strong and able and my head was quiet and convinced.

3. I napped at my friends' house this afternoon on his couch, out of the sun and heat. An afternoon sleep is so wonderful. I almost never allow myself the pleasure. I'm usually finding some displacement activity or fastidious chore to exclude it as an option. Today after some quiet closeness and conversation I slipped away into sleep, feeling safe, relaxed and careless. And was grateful for the fortune of a friend who would care for me so unconditionally. The two shirts so exquisitely described by Annie Proulx was brought to mind when I was awake again. The eloquence of the image resonated continuously within the beautiful events of this day.

A smiley smirk, hollyhocks and a little bit psychic

1. Emma went back to Oxford unreasonably (by her standards) early this morning. It was a beautiful bright morning and it was obviously going to be warm and summery. On the way from dropping her at the station I spotted the greater crested Mr G gliding along toward Lendal Bridge. I got to have a great start for my working day in the form of a hug and and huge smiley smirk. This was a very jolly beginning. At lunchtime I went out for a walk around the block and of course the heat had encouraged people to loose their clothes. Various possibly slightly drunken men were wandering around either with their shirts very open or shirtless. This is one of the benefits of the warm weather. I fear I walked around with a smirky smile and looked too long and too hard too often.


2. The Hollyhocks at Kings Manor are particularly splendid this year. I have at least on good plant in my garden too which grew from seeds collected from there. For some reason these tall, graceful wonders make me so very happy. I even enjoy the pinkness of the flowers. Although it is fair to say that my favourite colour is the dark red one I have in my yard. I've been listening to that bloody Snow Patrol album that we all loved a year back "Eyes Open". It always sums up the lost year when I was constantly in love and grief. Julie's Blog Untitled has a UTube video of "Chasing Cars" which seemed so spooky...she's just started writing and it's refreshingly frank.

3. I missed writing my blog yesterday for no particularly good reason other than I got chatting to a interesting bloke who had never got MSN to work on his computer. We talked on and off for a few happy hours on the telephone and typing away on Messenger. It was amazingly easy to become so familiar with someone so unknown. We probably told each other things strangers would never tell. I feel we might have talked as if we had always known each other. He sort of suggested that he was a little bit psychic..."not in a weird way, though" he was quick to add. It was very entertaining and relaxed. As always I was far to open and honest. He-who-shall-not-be-named had remarked earlier that he thought I was much too intense and made things too complicated. I wanted to refute it but he's probably right. I go between the desire to be truthful and clear and the longing to be simple and light. My problem is always that I feel there is a dialectic going on between my superficiality and my longing to find complexity and "meaning". Actually I've become pretty clear that there probably isn't any meaning to anything. It just is.

A scaffold of workmen, sowing the seeds of love and smile please

1. Every morning recently when I arrive at work on North Street there is a scaffold of workman milling about in high-visibility vests and hard hats and steel-toed boots. They are all smiley and manly, grinning and spitting and smoking and slapping each other on the back and exchanging tales of last night's conquests and fortunes. I sometimes linger on the street as if I were waiting for someone just so I can soak up the testosterone and tobacco filled air. It's a great start to the day.

2. There is a song which I have been trying to loose from inside my head ever since I was away on holiday and found myself watching bits of daytime TV. "Sowing the seeds of love..." by Tears For Fears. I think it's used for a Pimms advertisement. Every once in a while I realise that I've been singing the chorus over and over in my head. And then I find it hard to stop. I bought the album that song came from originally in the 1980's and loved it then. It has something irresistible about it. I got a text from Sean this evening which was good because I have been missing him. He said "Hope things are still 'special' for you..." and they are. I love the idea of sprinkling seeds of love about with the hope that something special will grow from them. When I was younger I believed that my friends and I could make the world a better place and that humanity could achieve an enlightened sense of unity. Time could have dulled that vision but on the whole I'd say I still look forward to accomplishing that mission.

3. I met up with my lovely friend Mr G after work tonight. We hadn't seen each other for a while and certainly hadn't had time to sit around and chat about nothing and everything. We strolled down Coney Street to the City Screen Bar and sat out on the boardwalk and watched and commented on the pretty young men passing by and the rowers. I had a beer and we talked about silly and important nothings and feelings. Every once in a while we would look over at each other and his green eyes would sparkle and I felt appreciated and loved. Having a friend that you can say anything to is pretty valuable. I think I could say anything to Mr G and if it offended him I think he would give me a look and I'd know immediately. When we left each other at St Helen's Square, we hugged and he said "Smile please" and just for a moment I couldn't. A wave of melancholy passed over me and I wanted to cry. It was a complicated moment of lots of different feelings. I walked off towards the Minster and he went off toward Lendal Bridge, I don't think either of us turned around to take another look. It was as kind as it could possibly be. I regained my heart's composure and ambled homeward.

Hugging, a beauty and a tiny thing

1. The desire to hug people is a happy one. I met at least three people on my travels today that I wanted to hug. There are definitely good physical and emotional reasons for pursuing a hug. The obvious physical benefits for me include closeness, warmth and intimacy. It's a grand way to get to meet someone. Emotionally hugging makes me feel connected (literally) and in tune with other people especially if they let you feel their heartbeat. I like to think that there is another element to hugging, a kind of spiritual connectivity, that feeling that my heart is your heart. I felt low a different points today and I didn't know what to do about it. But then this afternoon I got a lovely if slightly nervous hug from Laughing Man. It made my day. And that's the essence of hugs for me.

2. I ran into my friend Anita on my way down Bootham this evening. She looked incredible as always. I definitely wanted to hug her and kiss her and I got my wish. She is one of the most beautiful women I know in York and although she was stupid enough to let the Sailor go (and she knows it) I find it hard to believe there aren't long lines of lovely blokes queuing up to suit her. If I could somehow transform into a straight bloke, she would be top of my hit list. She is one of the truly "filthy gorgeous" people. York is that bit more beautiful for having her here.

3. After two nights of either no sleep or poor sleep I'm feeling I'm going to crash out at any moment soon. I was cheered up tonight by some kind advice from He-who-shall-not-be-named. It's wonderful that sometimes a tiny thing (in this case a supportive comment) can change everything about the way one perceives the reality of moments. Anyway, thanks to him for his advice and he's right I am so tired now I'm falling asleep! I'll work harder at writing meaningful and deep tomorrow.

Virginia Hiriskos, Robert Blackmore and Fluff-Ball

1. I woke up very very early with a splitting headache. It was strange because I felt like I had a hangover, but I hadn't drunk much last night. The bedroom felt claustrophobic and the air seemed stale. So I got up around three am and checked through my email. In amongst the spammy stuff, two posts stood out from the same source about a couple of people I know pretty well.

The first was news of my dear sister Virginia Hiriskos who passed away last week in California. She was 75. She was one of the first RHB's I ever met. I was just 17. She was very savvy and sophisticated and from California. She always had a wicked smile and sassy laugh. She was incredibly realistic and true. I haven't seen her in many years. I was sad for Jim, her husband, but very happy to have known her and to have had the privilege of being taught by her in the early days of Arica Institute Trainings in London back in the early 1970's. It was a time in my life of spiritual exploration and growing up and Virginia was one of the people who inspired me to see the world differently and I did and do. Thank you beautiful Virginia.

2. The second was news of my old friend Robert Blackmore who has been diagnosed with prostate cancer. Now this bloke and I were once pretty close and we had fun. I met him at a New Year's Eve party in Chelsea at Tom Salter's house in Neville Terrace in the mid 1970's. We walked from Chelsea to Robert's flat in Waterloo at the end of the celebrations probably a bit worse for wear from drink and singing and whatever else we did in those days. By the time we got to his house we were definitely friends. Over the years Robert has transformed from a East End wide boy to a very conscientious and generous supporter of Arica Institute in Upstate New York. I was lucky enough to visit with him a few years ago when I was in New York just in the months leading up to my divorce. I was in a rotten state but Robert was kind and funny and every bit the happy little bloke he was that first new year's Eve night. I wish him the very best with waves of Love.

3. Back to work after a week away could have gone better and worse. Mostly it was pretty ordinary. But there were highs with lows inside them. My colleague arrived having lost her cat over the weekend in sad and traumatic circumstances. She was able to tell the story with tears in her eyes but with a vivid sense of her love and appreciation for a lost fluff-ball friend. I think there was something special about that moment, we don't often get to share that kind of emotion and I appreciated her kindness and openness. As the morning went on she was able to tell the story quite matter-of-factly, which is as it should be. I can write about Virginia and accept calmly the gift she was to my life and I'm sure many others. I can think about Robert and wish him the best and good recovery. I can share the feelings with my friend about her loss. I am full tonight, I don't find adequate words to explain, but it is as if there are just a couple of drops to go before the glass is overflowing...

Apricot jam, getting stuff sorted and a Big Red kiss

1. This morning I made apricot jam. It doesn't really take much and I got it done before anyone was awake. I don't know what it is about homemade conserves, it's definitely cheaper and easier to just go and buy from the store, but. It tastes wonderful, sweet and rich. I made enough to give some to anyone who asks.



2. Having been away for a week there was lots for an obsessive-compulsive dust-botherer to do. I cleaned and wiped and dysoned and ironed and washed and wiped some more. I emptied bins and changed beds and folded and scrubbed and sorted and put stuff away. I never stopped until I got distracted by internet conversations and calls. I had a great time. I've been avoiding being the domestic god I've aspired to for a while and it was good to make the house nice again for everyone. Of course they don't actually notice but that's not the point. I enjoy doing it anyway.


3. The day concluded with the best kiss I can remember in a very long time. Completely uncalled for, completely unexpected and completely beautiful. It was a Big Red kiss organised with surprising skill and generosity. Its one I will never forget till the moment I die.

Beebole Cottage, York Rotters and coming home

1. I have been away in Wensleydale for a week on holiday. It was beautiful. The weather was reasonably kind, but it is probably part of the Yorkshire Dales experience to get a bit damp from time to time. We stayed in a tiny cottage on the hillside by Semer Water and walked a lot and communed with sheep and dry stone walls and barns. I lay around and read a lot. I enjoyed a brilliant first novel by Ross Raisin "God's Own Country". It's the voice of someone who really is a Yorkshireman observing the townies and their lack of respect for his world and realities. It's quite a dark story and also very funny with language, as a sort of Southerner, I can only guess the meaning of. I was gripped by the flow and the cadences. I would recommend this little novel to anyone who loves the Yorkshire landscape and its language. Wensleydale, on the other hand, is quite different from the northerly moors described in my book but I can imagine that the real people who live there have to deal with the same issues and feelings described. Wensleydale is pretty empty, huge landscapes of green and limestone outcrops and vast sky. It was magnificent and I came home feeling well rested and calm. For anyone vaguely interested I've uploaded some of the photographs I took of the trip to my Flickr page...



2. I raced back to York this morning to attend a composting course at St Nicks Environment Centre run by York Rotters which was designed to raise awareness and recruit volunteers to promote composting in the city. It was an interesting day. I probably didn't learn a huge amount I didn't already have some idea about but it was well presented. I met some interesting people, some of whom will go on to be volunteers, giving up time to help others get started and to represent the group at events and displays. In particular one very nice man who has moved to York recently from Forres and who had been involved with the Findhorn Community in the past. We got chatting and he was kind enough to give me his details and agreed to come along at some point and talk to the St Nicks group about fund-raising about which he has some good experience. It was a fine feeling to be back with people again and connecting.


3. As soon as I got home, I turned on the computer and there was a reassuring rush of email and MSN messages and I've started to catch up with friends and family. I think a mark of success for this holiday was that it felt like I was away for an age. A lot of stuff in my head has changed or moved about and that feels like a good thing. I got a friend request on Facebook from a pleasing bloke in Canada who it turns out is a friend of Jon, the lovely fellow with whom I connected with recently. We exchanged some email this afternoon which cheered me considerably and reinforced the feeling that the world is a better place for making friends, however you go about doing it...I even had a chat with he-who-shall-not-be-named and it was almost affable. Of course he told me off for flattering him but I find it irresistible. I cannot help wondering why we all spend so much time worrying about what the next person's motives might be for liking us. It strikes me that as i grow older I feel less inclined to be suspicious and more attracted to be accepting. Big Red was one of the first people to greet me today. It was unconditional and happy. He made me laugh out loud in "filthy gorgeous" sort of way. I can't hardly wait to see him again. I just have no idea what comes next but it was lovely to return to home and I'm amazed that I'm looking forward to tomorrow. That is something I might not have been able to say easily a year ago.

A ping pong ball, Frier Tucks and a rest from the usual stuff

1. The big excitement of today was an interview. There is usually something very stressful about being asked to say why you want the job on offer, generally I find, there is a need to give a cleverly considered answer. Perhaps I'm alone in this but I imagine that in some ways it is the easiest and hardest question at once. I tried honesty. I'm mostly an optimistic person on the side of half full rather than half empty. For some curious reason as I came away from the meeting and back out into the driving rain, I thought of a very funny piece by Damien Hirst which was shown at the York Art Gallery about a year ago. It was a glass of water with a ping pong ball sitting in it...Bless him. I wonder if he might have been considering a jolly physics query that asks what happens when a Ping-Pong ball is set floating in a glass of water that is enclosed in an airtight chamber? When air pressure is increased in the chamber, does the ball float lower, higher, or as before? The answer according to the Online Physics Lab of Daytona Beach, Florida, is that it will float higher! Hmm.

2. Having fish and chips as a take away supper is a fairly uncommon occurrence in our house. At the end of this rather long and at times stressful day I really did not feel like approaching or cooking food at all. I probably would have been happy to have poured a glass of wine and collapsed into an oblivion heap. Allan very kindly went off to Frier Tucks at 83b Heworth Road and brought back haddock and chips. It might not be the best fast food emporium on York but it is just around the corner. I ate mine with a great blob of mayonnaise, ignoring the fat ban and with excited relish (the emotional kind). The meal wasn't delicious (I cant think why S the P goes there every week from Fulford), and it wasn't totally satisfying either (I am a vegetablly boy really) but it hit a spot. A beautiful hungry spot.

3. I enjoy writing this journal and I try to keep up to date. Tomorrow I'm off to Wensleydale for a week's holiday in the Yorkshire sun. I will be writing while I'm away and I will update the entries when I get back. The likelihood is that where I'm going there will be no Internet access, no telephone reception and lots of rain...but we will find out I guess. I'm taking my camera and intend to be a photographer, I have a pile of books and plan to finish reading all those that I've started but not finished and I have my sketch pad and pencils and paints so that I can make scribbles that will probably never see the light of day. The beautiful thing about the intention of this break is that we get to have a rest from the usual stuff and enjoy the scenery and geology of area around Semer Water.

Callanish, cherries and complete strangers

1. I started my Excel ECDL Advanced course this week and today I had a supported study session with a very nice person, Sally. It turns out that one of her passions is archeology and in particular neolithic period both in this country and in southern Europe. She pointed me to this interesting website which seems to be made by Julian Cope, the ex-rock person...there is a joke here. The Modern Antiquarian web site has some stunning photographs, for example a collection of images of the Callanish Standing Stones. We visited two years ago and it is amazing.

2. Cherries are not quite in season yet, but I ate a bowl load of lovely cherries this evening from way off foreign parts and they were wonderful.

3. I had two great telephone chats with good friends (one I've never actually met and one I've come to really appreciate) and I'm really happy now we've caught up. It balances some of the really negative stuff I've had from the other place. I also met someone new online. It's an extraordinary place. Complete strangers can become your bestest of friends.

The old bus depot, trespasso and Zantedeschia

1. The old bus garage on Navigation Road is lost now to a multi-storey new build. They paved paradise and put up a block of student flats. I used to walk past the old bus depot and glance in at the little cubicle with a bloke in a uniform sitting there, fag in mouth surrounded by oil and grease and big old buses coming in and out. There was something very masculine about the place, it had a warm smell as you walked by. Now the old garage is gone and there are new, shiny buildings that will house the future movers and takers. All with en-suites and fancy furniture. I met one of the site managers today, a cute little bloke, furtively looking around to see what might be coming next. There were builders and workmen everywhere, all hard of hat and boot, all gruff and a bit overgrown in hi-vis jackets and arse hugging jeans. It was heavenly.

2. Walking over Lendal Bridge there was my friend beaming and coming towards me arms outstretched and greetingful. We hugged and held each other for one moment and the whole world was gone and the noise stopped and there was something gone still inside. It was a moment of actual bliss. I looked right into his eyes, full trespasso...the windows of the soul stuff...the whole works, just a moment of perfect connection.

3. The white Calla lily, Zantedeschia, in the back yard is flowering and wonderful. It's very simple and pure, just like some of the best of those people I have had the pleasure of recently. My day was definitely lifted by the sight of this beauty as it was by the sight of the others who passed my way today.

Green and Black's, ironing the shirt and the creamy white

1. Green and Black's Organic Milk Chocolate can sometimes be the only thing standing between the desire to end it all and happiness. I'm not a chocofreak or anything, if anything almost the reverse and it's hard to describe what makes a perfect G&B moment. For me it does have to do with emotional challenge. Most of my days are filled with those, but a chocolate moment is other, words might not adequately describe it. I'm pretty stupid. I constantly fall in love, not stupid pink heart stuff, just waves of deconstructed crumbs and hormones. Today was a lightweight day, but like driving on the motorway past a pile up I tried to keep my eyes to the front. Somehow this evening there was a G&B moment after a series of little encounters. Big Red said "true" one time too convincingly.... I thought about Lil Phil, who I miss, who loves this stuff. There were two squares left and some crumbs...quite enough to enjoy and not enough to satisfy.

2. Ironing the "Pulling Shirt" has brought on a little melancholy. I washed it after the wedding. I could smell him when I first wore it. I slept in it, and washed it again. I had to be brave and iron it properly so that I can give it back. Iron set on steam, I started with tears and reluctance and gratitude. It's flowersome just like Mr M and it's time to return it. I chatted briefly with him this evening and I could imagine his happy smile and the expression he has when he's just beyond control. That really is sparkly and beautiful.

3. The Yucca which came to us a bit of manky root from a skip has grown well and now its flowered. I'm pretty pleased especially since I don't much care for the plant. It seemed like a good lesson to have respect for even the most challenging material manifestation. The leaves are spiky and vicious, unfriendly even though handsome, green and luscious. The flowers are creamy white, thin and perfect and you almost want to cup them in the palm of your hand and smell the delicate scent. But you resist because you know you could get hurt. Snow Patrol playing on the iDock "Don't think just do..."

Michael C Hall (aka Dexter), waking up and time-driven friend

1. Dexter is not in the least bit cool. But I'm on the home run to the end of the first series. I like Michael C Hall in this, I never had any sympathy with his character in Six Foot Under. This is the first TV stuff I've watched in months. I'm over TV for now. I borrowed the DVDs from the library. I love the moral dilemma this story presents. The serial killer is hunting the serial killers. Who's the good guy? Actually I probably like this guy because my friend Steve the Monkey likes him too...that's another tale and another beautiful thing...

2. One of my best times of the day is when I wake up. I usually open my eyes and I'm good to go. This morning was one of those brilliant times. The light was pretty, there was light rain and everything was calm and bright. I did some email and checked through some paperwork. Before I knew it it was time to shower and get ready for work. Once there all was well. I was tired today though, I don't think it was because i woke early. I think it was Mondayness.

3. This afternoon was taken beautifully along by brief visit from a time-driven acquaintance. He said he thought I'd learned a lot since he last saw me. I replied that I'd had a good teacher who had shown me something perfect about not being attached to the next moment.

BlueFly Bar, Freecycled and JMGH

1. Breakfast at the BlueFly Bar on New Street was a very pleasant surprise. I had creamy scrambled eggs on ciabatta toast and the hottest cafe latte in York. Actually I had two latte's, they were historic. Dr H had the same and we sat cruising the street and reading yesterday's Guardian. The place was almost empty and it was calm and relaxed which was perfect for Sunday morning. I have been at night time and then of course it's filled with the groovy and the good and buzzes.

2. The weather has been crazy wet here again today. There were lots of people out in York keenly shopping or at least browsing. There were some very good-looking men about which cheered an otherwise dreary day. The Sunday Times had a nice little article about the rise and rise of Freecycle in it's Business Section today. At last the idea of thriftiness has become fashionable for the middle class, they after all can afford to be thrifty. Apparently its chic to have clothing that you have obviously "darned" yourself or "patched" or whatever we are calling it in these post economic boom days. Enoughism rules are OK.

3. It was an odd day, because I didn't get much done except browse around the Internet chat rooms, and clear out my emails and write to people. All OK things to do really but somehow I wished I'd been more motivated to achieve something tangible. It wasn't until later that I got to chat on MSN with my friend in Canada, Jon. It is so beautiful to me that I can happen upon another human being and find that they are living in the same moment as me and breathing the same air and wanting to express some of the same feelings and joys. This boy is a golden person, kind and respectful and generous. All the best things I could wish for in a friend. He has a very handsome full name and he has a heroic and beautiful nature. I will meet him one day, can't wait.

Routine, nuzzling and my chemical romance

1. Breaking routines is unusual for me. So Saturday morning without my usual trip for coffee and the Guardian with Nellie Poodle was different. Consciously keeping to patterns of behaviour may help the feeling of stability but it takes surprisingly little change for the sense of security to be questioned and challenged. I admit that there have been a few challenges to my quotidian existence recently. And I am definitely in a process of adapting and changing to a whole new set of rules and variations of what is acceptable behaviour and how I can be happy without hurting anyone else. In the last few months I have been met by a range of interesting circumstances which have stimulated me to reconsider some aspects of my way of being. It's not entirely comfortable. I seem to run out of time every day, where once I had spare. The good and beautiful side of this has been meeting some interesting and stimulating characters along the way. I look for something beautiful in each person I meet, it is positive discrimination. There is is always some aspect worth considering in any body. In most people there are multiples of open and closed doors to investigate, appreciate and play with. I get frustrated by the time we waste in cautious investigation of each other or pretending we have no interest or consciously removing the possibility of closeness and collaboration. It would be naive to imagine that everyone is 'good', but likewise I find it impossible to start from the position that people are more likely to be 'bad'. My routine personality has been challenged by having to engage with some nifty new characters from whence a great chest of fortune has opened.

2. When I watch scary movies, it is nice to snuggle up with someone so I can hide my eyes through the worst bits. I know in a way this defeats some of the object but it is a hell of a good way to get close to someone. Two movies were purchased from from the reduced section for a £1 each. They turned out to be the very worst kind of horror films neither of which could be watched all the way through, but they afforded a lovely opportunity to nuzzle and hide.

3. Damn the third beautiful thing. It is hard to be completely honest about these three things. There are times when I find it hard to say what is really in my heart. Obviously by saying that what I really mean is events and things which have brightened a few synapses. This idea that there is something going on in my heart is nonsense. The emotions we feel are entirely driven by body chemistry. I'm thinking that that means behaviours like routine, affection and attraction are activated chemically. The hopelessly romantic view that there is some beautiful force that makes us be good or bad, happy or sad, loving or unkind is simply unrealistic and magical thinking with no basis in reality. That does seem harsh in another mind-set but I'm thinking it makes everything rather simpler and less complicated in mine. I seem to have unavoidably embraced added-value complication on a regular basis, which sometimes causes me problems and "heartache". I have 'feelings' for every one I meet and interact with. Some of those feelings seem robust and forceful, and some of them minimal and mimsey. I can't help feeling that the latter come from my laziness. I'm thinking that My Chemical Romance was a great name for a rock band.

Hatti McKenzie, sweeping changes and floodgates

1. Every Friday I have the good fortune to meet with my friend Hatti McKenzie to discuss document management systems. You can imagine, the hours just fly by. We also get to touch base about her other passion in brief which is art. Her work which I've only seen on the web so far is pretty amazing I think. She often describes the next project she's working on and they always seem so amazingly adventurous and exciting. This week she had come back from Glastonbury where I think she'd not only enjoyed the music but also done some installation work. Hatti is an inspiration and a beauty.

2. At the end of the working day I was inspired to scurry home and clean for Yorkshire. I spent and fairly happy evening, dusting, cleaning, changing the beds, turning the mattresses, polishing the brass (joke) and doing he laundry and ironing. I used to really love doing the housework and people would buy me equipment like my beautiful red metal dustpan and brush or a square of scrim or a book of advice like Margaret Horsfield's "Biting the dust" or "Sweeping Changes: Zen and the Art of Household Maintenance" by Gary Thorp. Both books are must reads for any aspiring fastidious house-husband (or wife if they still exist). These days, having achieved a certain level of enlightenment, in a Buddha-like state, sat under a Bodhi Tree (in my case in the sun room with my laptop and MSN blinking), I look around me a say "Oh so many Buddha's", which is sometimes a shock for Mr Tumnus because he is often the only other sentient being in there...My grip on tidy preoccupation has been slipping. So it was as if my cleaning woman mojo suddenly and usefully returned and at the end of the evening, Three episodes of Dexter on, I had done three-quarters of the ironing and the house was slightly less dusty. Spiritual and domestic bliss.

3. He-who-shall-not-be-named skillfully aided me in breaking the small pretense I manage at being clear and in control of my emotions. A little comment made (probably in innocence and fun) and I took effect immediately, and was about to run off in what he rightly described as "a huff", when I took a quick stock take and agreed I was pretty silly to allow myself the indulgence of thinking that I was hurt by his quip. As He-who-shall-not-be-named, the Lord Voldermort of my MSN list so clearly established we are not real friends just on-line acquaintances....it seemed harsh at the time but it's absolutely accurate. A good lesson for me this day. I've discussed my tendency to 'blurt' before, but perhaps worse (if that's the right descriptor) is to imagine that everyone I meet is my friend. There is a line in a Snow Patrol song "Spitting Games" that resonated with me from the very first moment I heard it. I think the bloke might be singing about being high on ecstasy of course, but never-the-less I feel something for just about everybody however unrealistic. Everyday I'm happy to say there is some moment of satori, could be a painting of Hatti's or cleaning up after a meal or chatting to a stranger and as Mr Snow Patrol sings...."after that the floodgates opened up and I fell in love with everyone I saw..."

Buddha Eddie, The other marriage of the century, and The Big Red

1. I had the privilege of seeing a brilliant photograph of Buddha Eddie today on Flickr. It expressed a huge amount about this little bloke in the most incredible portrait I've seen in a while. He was photographed by his Dad and captured with his entire personality in a frame. I wish I could have taken this image. It is one of Dave's finest portraits, I think.

2. The other marriage of the century was announced today. Our dear friend Miss Chris and his gorgeous partner Mount Brummy tied the civil partnership knot They didn't tell any one...their witnesses were their very best friends from Malton who introduced them in the first place. It was such happy and gay news and it gave my day the most wonderful high possible. This was a totally most beautiful thing and it happened in York!

3. A warm sunny afternoon. The evening sunset light was streaming through the blinds and I could see the warm glow over everything and I felt elated and whole. I'd forgotten that such a simple pleasure as the violet hour light could change the feeling of one day into the expectation of another. The Big Red made this moment sound, smiling, panting, exhausted and replete.

Passiflora caerulea, Campana's Ristorante and only with you

1. Last year I grew some passiflora caerulea plants from seed and have had them in a big pot in the sun room over the winter and into this summer. There have been a very few buds that seemed premature and never came to anything...and then recently a whole clutch of them...it's very exciting. Today when I got home from work there were two fully opened flowers. They are so incredible I had to share them here. What seems most unlikely is that they are white flowers and not the blue I expected. The structure is amazing, it almost defies explanation and so I'll just suffice with my photograph here and count it as another evolutionary miracle if that isn't a total oxymoron.

2. The people in my office got together for lunch today at Campana's Ristorante on Micklegate to celebrate Tony's 60th birthday and the acquisition of his bus-pass.The place is in someways unremarkable, the staff are friendly but not effusive, the food is good but not historic. There is little atmosphere (whatever that is) though it is a very easy and comfortable place to eat. I have never been there and come away feeling disappointed or less than satisfied.

3. There is a song by the Beach Boys from a lost album called Holland from the early 1970's when they were about to fall apart altogether, it's called "Only With You". It is one of my all time favourite songs, a bit like a hymn of love. It came to mind this afternoon as I was walking home from work through St Leonard's Place. My heart was pounding after a glimpse of someone beautiful and true I know through a window. There are few people it is easy to say that about, there are few people you can say "There are things, that we do, that I have only done with you". There are few people about whom that could be a honest statement made with love and the highest admiration. Of course some feelings we may simply have to accept as events that reside in our hearts and perhaps nowhere else. But that doesn't seem at all a bad thing to me, it seems powerful and more realistic than nothing at all, it seems more mature and realistic than ignoring the beautiful and believing that everything, every feeling is filled with possible danger. Today I am feeling it is possible that being human is a perfect state. I really like this song...

Drop your pants, Strange and Beautiful and Dr. Cool Bag

1. I limped to work nursing a trapped nerve (I think that's what it is). This is a terrible feeling that might be referred to as sciatic pain. I have tried all sorts of things to get comfortable. Hot water bottle seemed like a good idea, a warm shower and a long soak in the bath. Gentle massage was attractive and today I read about curling up into a ball and then slowly expanding to a wide stretch. Seems like the sort of thing we used to do in the good old growth movement days when men's groups were opportunities to cry and share and talk about "Iron John". Its so painful I want to cry. The beauty of all this though is the absolute awareness it forces me to have of my body. I find it so easy to take it for granted but this has given me a good slapping and woken me from body-conscious slumber. The photograph was from Lil Phil, which cheered me up considerably. Various people advised me to make an appointment with the doctor to get some classy A type drugs to help reduce the inflammation and pain. While I'm sort of doubting that the doctor would be quite so informal in these matters as the Balfurd Cleaners sign would suggest, I remain as ever very hopeful.

2. As I was walking across Lendal Bridge this afternoon in the sunshine, even the visitors looked kind. I was listening on my ancient i-Pod to Aqualung singing "Strange and Beautiful". It is a perfect and unusual love song, near the beginning he sings "You've been so perfect with me but you just can't see, you turn every head but you don't see me.....sometimes the last thing you want comes in first and sometimes the first thing you want never comes..." I was beginning to well and then in front of me there was a vision of excellence, looking pretty in a pink T-shirt, all handsome in his shades and naughty smile. I told him of my body pain woes and he said he had a similar pain too. He is not in the least bit strange (that I know about) but he is a beauty. And it was so comforting to find someone who empathised with my pain. Strangely I could have, (should have) kissed him, there, then in the sunshine, unconditionally and without care of the consequences. watch the video from You Tube... of the song, hehe.

3. Finally it turns out that the most remedial thing is an icepack. At Christmas I was given a Dr. Cool Bag and a Dr. Hot Bag made by SuckUK. The self-warming heatpack is wonderful and magically heats up once the metal disk inside is squeezed. It really is remarkable. Its too difficult to explain here I think but it really does get hot and it's re-usable over and again. But today I found that painkillers could be history, at least briefly by applying Dr. CB direct from the freezer. Having been chilled to the bone on my right flank I have had a few minutes of blissful comfort (the muscles are so numb from the froz there's no feeling left). Dr. CB is definitely a beautiful thing and being added as an honourary member to the RHB list.