THIS JOURNAL IS TEMPORARILY CLOSED.

The administrator is well aware that she is incapable of controlling her emotions at the moment and any further entries might cause distress to the very people she has always tried to serve. That does not include her professional colleagues some of whom she is ashamed to recall.

From a destroyed Veterinary Surgeon

Under the influence of alcohol I seek,
The bonds that have tied me to the past,
The stagnant water now flows,
While unknown talent grows,
Let the audience stand up aghast,
At the wreckage of the stage I wreak.

Take a second look at the painted backdrop,
That hangs by one thread and is woven by lies,
Here is the picture you are told to love,
Here is the desecration of the word from above,
A snake climbs the staff held over the cries,
Directing them to pay at the door of the shop.

Where is compassion in professional pride?
When money makes the path that all tread,
And caring is measured by rewards gained,
Have you so soon forgotten how long it rained
To wash away every misplaced bed,
Take a second look at the horse you ride.


It is not a horse
It is not even a unicorn,
It has two horns.
It belongs in Hell with me so,
I recognise you devils, as you parade in your borrowed feathers.


All pictures were destroyed by the enumerable lies that surrounded them.

River Running for Life

"O Soul, be changed into liittle water drops" From Visual Counterpoint

Ref ‘O soul, be changed into little water drops
And fall into the ocean, ne’er to be found:
My God, my God, look not so fierce on me.’

C. Marlowe

Music embraces the echoes of dreams,
I listen and hear the past as it passes
Over my face on gossamer wings,
So silently it sings,
While sand falls within glasses,
Life follows timeless streams.

The river writes the story for the dead,
With rhythms that carry soul,
From every beginning to one just end,
This watery grave must send,
All to pay the final toll,
For innocence blindly led.

No drop of water falls, but will save
The earth from that, which would rise
To create a mountain none can climb
From deepest hell to a sky sublime,
Rain carries from the heavens this prize,
To be offered on every ocean wave.

The slightest sound will be sought,
When the wind becomes merely a breeze,
That rocks the boat on an ordered swell,
Within which the storm must dwell,
Before this ferocious force will seize,
All space above and below nought.

'GROWING INTO THE ROLE' From Visual Counterpoint

'BEAUTY'S BRIDAL BOUQUET' From Visual Counterpoint

I have had a particularly difficult day with sound having been driven from my early morning walk with the dogs by a deafening noise, some kind of siren, (before 9am on a Sunday!) that made me feel totally sick and almost made me fall into the canal.
This has been followed by the usual onslaught of bells and whistles when I tried to shop for the dog’s food and is finished by my neighbour cutting his lawn with the cheapest noisiest mower he could purchase to within a nano centimetre of its’ life.


This day is one like so many now that I shall drown in alcohol. That way I will hopefully not remember it.

Memory has much to answer for

'THE RIVER SEEMS TO STAND STILL' From Visual Counterpoint

When time takes a moment to remember,
And the river seems to stand still,
Then I hear the music you sing,
Clouds gather; and my heart they fill,
With hope for the future they rise,
Taking from the sea of my thought,
A single stream to run free,
With love such a dream is caught.

'DREAM CATCHER' From Visual Counterpoint

The dream lives within my mind,
The net is only laid at my feet,
How could this catch my thoughts?
When they fly so easily, complete,
Away from the pain of life,
As light flies into the night,
Carried as shadows they dance,
On a stage only set for a fight.

Stellar Wind, Universal Strings, Earth Percussion, Brass to Polish

'FROM THE NIGHT' From Visual Counterpoint

From the night millions of stars shine,
Reminding us that one
Shines for all,

'SILENCE SINGS' From Visual Counterpoint

From the night silence sings,
Reminding us that one
Said all.

'THE SECRET OF LIFE' From Visual Counterpoint

From the night velvet air falls,
Reminding us that one
Died for all.

'DAY AND NIGHT FRAMED' From Visual Counterpoint

From the night the day dawns,
Reminding us that one
Lives.

'A STAR IS BORN'From Visual Counterpoint

From the darkness a star is born,
Reminding us that one
Creates light.

'A CALL FROM THE DARK' From Visual Counterpoint

From the star a wind will blow
Reminding us that one
Calls in the dark.

*****


Tuning up causes instruments to clash, as all players attempt to make their instrument sound the best they can and are oblivious of the sounds made by those around them.

The conductor marks time and creates music from the noise of chaos.

This orchestra needs to be heard before it can be believed.

This orchestra plays every night and can be heard playing symphonies in a dark sky and accompanying many soloists with all the support required to accentuate their amazing talent to the audience.

'ALL THE SUPPORT REQUIRED' From Visual Counterpoint

The Watercolour Artist

'WATERCOLOUR ARTIST' From Visual Counterpoint

~Paints with a brush of sable,
Colour, like water flows onto the stage,
Only a free hand can act as guide,
Only an open mind contains the gauge.


~First washes the paper well,
Then over the water walks,
With a brush primed to explode colour,
And using light’s spectrum - talks.

The picture unfolds slowly,
With wings that will fly high,
While carrying the water of life,
On the sound of a single sigh.

Clockwise

'CLOCKWISE' From Visual Counterpoint

No time is the right time.
Time knows no left or wrong.
Time simply is,
Ours to do with as we wish,
Carrying both glass and scythe,
All time is true.

Don’t try to mark Time,
It runs like a river from the mountain of dreams
To the sea of creation,
It carries every unborn thought,
Beyond the horizon to grow,
Into our future.

Time flies like a swallow in summer,
In many rhythmic patterns,
Dance to the music on the air,
Like a shadow with sunlight,
Or a moonbeam in the night,
Stand the test.

Don’t waste time,
There is nothing to keep you or me
Here as often as not,
Half-heartedly passing the day,
Warped and distorted
Empty space waits.


PS *dandy roll...

Today, I was asked by a woman on the canal towpath wheeling a child in a buggy, " What comes first the yellow flower or the clock? I was arguing with my husband."
A more than simple question if you take the starting point as the season spring but if you take the starting point as the seed?
That her two whippets ran rings around my two GSD X’s seems appropriate as her words have since run rings around my mind.

* a device for solidifying, and impressing a watermark in, paper during manufacture.