Patsy's Trilogy completed

I made these two in Portugal, thought they might go well with the mango on Patsy's kitchen wall. Am not so keen on the old tomatoes, but as part of a trilogy I think they are not too bad (if anything make the other two look better!?!?!)

Life in London - Tales from Britannia

Had food poisoning yesterday – turned out to make for a theatrical experience providing much “food for thought” (the pun almost making me feel ill as I am still in the can’t-even-think-of-eating-a-thing zone). First off: Marks & Spencer in Moorgate. It is HUGE. And in the lunch hour it is CRAZY. City workers, gotta love them. We’re like animals in a circus, power dressed, Blackberry-addicted, bamboozled by an excessive variety of lunch options, caught into the trap of “buy 2 for £5”. But not me, oh no, I was on a mission, me… buying cakes and sweets for Will’s birthday in the office, and the obligatory cheesy card. Joys of the corporate family life, team work and all that, and PAs play mums (always had a motherly instinct, I have!). Anyway ended up grabbing a nicoise salad to eat for lunch, which turned out to be the root of all evil in my food poisoning tale.
Three hours later, starting to turn green and shiver and head spinning like a Frisbee, I decide something was definitely wrong and left the 18th floor office with no fresh air. By then the idea of getting into a tunnel full of people elbowing me for some space on the train and me holding two safety recycled supermarket (sick) bags was not my idea of fun (or love for my fellow passengers in fact!) so I decided to be a posh ill woman and take a black cab. I have to say the highlight of the journey was passing the Royal Parks: Green Park, Hyde Park, Kensington Gardens. As I write this I am actually starting to wonder whether the driver took me for the scenic route? Well- is £35 a fair fare from Bank to W6? I’ll never know. He was absolutely not bothered that I was being sick in my faithfully recycled bags, undoubtedly he has seen worse. He even lit up a cigarette! Anyway royal parks are GOOD and I can’t wait for some sunshine to go and chill out with the rest of the circus animals on any square meter of nature in sight! Although the Metro (which I have avoided reading since my return to London as I think a free newspaper cannot be that much of a quality read, can it? And I am careful what goes into my brain) has apparently warned Londoners to abandon all hope for sunshine in May as we ain’t getting any! Anyway… I hope for a sunny bank holiday weekend. Angelique Kidjo is in concert in Blantyre, Malawi on Monday, and I just wish I were there! Will just keep listening to the MP3 instead!

I love the Truth, I know it when I hear it, like the deep sound of the drum between the goat skin top and the wooden cone it resounds somewhere inside my ribcage. Only that the Truth is hidden, and I am not always purposeful in looking for it until I smash my pretty little head against a concrete wall, and find myself in desperate need for the Healing Truth, the Comforting Truth: "Do not put your trust in princes, in mortal men, who cannot save." (Psalm 146:3) "But the LORD is the true God; he is the living God, the eternal King." (Jeremiah 10:10). Therein lies the Truth: Prince Charming is not the Eternal King, immediate gratification is no substitute for long term satisfaction and quick fixes don't make wrongs right. Oh - if only Truth came in a jar, one little candy drop a day, one carefully applied layer of hope in the morning. It takes a little more engagement than that – but it’s worth it, because I am worth it!

Mmmm... mango (Study for Patsy's original art 11 April 06)

am really disappointed to have lost a poem I wrote in 2003 in preparation for going to taste the real mangoes of Malawi - it would have gone really well alongside this study for a piece of ART I want to give to Patsy for her kitchen... mmmm.... mango..... x

Portrait (Intense Watercolour - 9 April 06)

“Whatever the mind of man can conceive and believe, it can achieve.”

I attended a v cool drawing course last Sat and am still feeling the buzz from it - I loved it! I loved drawing! I want to do so much more of it. It was at my church and it reminded me of a programme I was watching recently on the BBC called "Around the World in 80 Treasures" showing things like huge temples carved out of a mountain in places like Ethiopia and the Middle East, the Piramides and I just think WOW. I mean, someone must have thought about it, imagined it and planned it before starting to set the foundations down - they believed that it could be done, without really any tangible evidence or precedent or the high tech means available to us today! I want to have such a visionary mind and enduring character! Lately I have been reminded of how creative we have been made to be - I guess our "off the shelf" consumer culture has in certain ways brought us to think that you just unwrap, microwave and consume, or buy a CD, put it in a box and listen (which is great by the way) but how about creating a new song?! or using whatever is around as an instrument... When I grow up I want to be an "artiste" - well, I turn 30 on Saturday, perhaps that time has come!

The African Child and I are one (short poem March 2006)

Under your rainbow I stand
Thanks to your rainbow I am
Faced with your rainbow I know
the glory of the living God
In your rainbow of life
the African child and I are one.

Beware of the Monster (a poem on the Milan underground with its screens incessantly vomiting out all sorts of soul intrusive rubbish - 2005)

Withdrawal is not an option
When the weapon is pointed
Right to your core
When the masses seem unaware
You beware!
The monster is talking to your brain
From the surround sound speakers
With matching visuals
In the underground station.
Showing you its golden lies
Its false beliefs
Scorpio Libra Sagittarius
Kitten heels, pointy shoes
Popes, presidents and football gods.
All eyes pointed
All ears open
Do they know what they’re letting in?
Blind, brains switched off
How can I rise up and tell them
They should beware
The end is near
Only the truth will stand.

Night time Poem (a poem - 2005)

Last night is behind
us
victims of our own suffering.
An arsenal of immaterial weapons
Fears, words,
The inevitable influence
Of another person’s pain
When two are one.

Tonight my love
I am grateful we’ve overcome,
A weight lifted off my soul,
I thank you
That you give me a thousand and one chances
To discover
Myself
And life
And the depth in you of patience and understanding.

My love
tonight
My eyes can see the stars
Shining faithfully
All across the black sky.
I miss you, that’s the truth,
And I am lost.

In my mind,
I open the palm of my right hand
And offer you a lullaby
The shape of a tiny pot of flowers
To put by your bed side,
To look at
And think of the One
Who created them,
To find comfort
From the imperfection
Of us on Earth.

Getaway (a poem - about August 2004)

Two days
A bridge
From yesterday to eternity
This getaway
Is a gateway
Into you
Like rowing out to sea
Abandoning myself
To the motion of the waves.

Where you are
The sun always shines
The feeling of your soft skin against mine
Surpasses the sense of touch
Travels down my spine
Past my heart mind and soul
A kaleidoscope of love
Evolving patterns
Each day a new colour
Added to the palette.

How can I
Say goodbye
And get away
From the home
The nest
The womb within your arms?
I pray for guidance
And I know
The angels will sing me songs of truth
As I walk
My road with you.

"La Lune" (a poem - 2005?)

watch and contemplate.
ne confonds pas
le doigt qui te montre la lune
et la lune.
I’ve got to contemplate some more
this truth takes time and meditation.
the moon
shines brightest
when the night is
dark.

if a finger pointing
to the moon
is just the same as any other finger
would be
were it pointing
to the same moon
where does
the soul behind that finger,
the heart inside that man,
stand?

In my dream
I kept seeing
the moon
reflected inside one man's eyes.
the eyes were deep, warm and captivating
I had no desire
whatsoever
to turn my sight away
and twist my neck
to the moon instead
to watch and contemplate
its marble whiteness
in the distant sky

then a star fell from on high
and whispered gently in my ear
"it's quite simple, my dear,
Mother Nature gives and takes
that man one day will close his eyes
or look away
but you need not think
that the moon
has gone with him.
fix the mind of your heart
on the highest high
and know the truth.
the moon lives in the sky
and it will shine again
for centuries to come
through someone else's eyes.
its spell will never end
till the last day comes
when all that will be left
will be
love
in its purest form.