He was like my Gabrial Oak, one I was returning to after all. My last memories are of kindness (when not being bossy) and tenderness. It could so easily have not been the case. Oh we’d had had our battles, never lasting long, and more spatty than aggressive, I wanting to change him, away from… Continue reading Bob -and friendships (Feb 2016)
Bob on the Fridge
Housework works. Cathartic and wholesome. I found BOB LOVES RACHEL AND KALI in fridge magnets on my fridge. How had I not noticed it? When he did it the week before. Indeed there is much I didn't notice In the most mundane of moments memories arrive. Filling up with petrol, Bob always knew the price… Continue reading Bob on the Fridge
Bob – Writing
Saturday, writing with Dean and Michael. What luxury to have this space in which to find the words to describe this time. I have not found it since. Trust in Dean and Michael, happy to be amongst strangers. What a marvellous pursuit to wail out loud (like they do in Iran full body, full black) and… Continue reading Bob – Writing
Bob and logs
‘What's the purpose?’ Bob used to ask of me writing my diaries, a non rhetorical and open question. He had the knack of asking the important questions. I didn't know the answer, but kept the question as I wrote on through the years. He modernised the name and called them logs.Now they are called blogs,… Continue reading Bob and logs
Shoes
There they were: Black, leather, Eco – You always bought Eco – On the kitchen floor While you were not. Oddly empty, with your feet so particular: flat footed, broad based, carrying your bow legs belly, and that great head with shock of hair. Pigeon toed, uneven, Yet determined, even angry, gait increasingly unsteady, Burdened. In… Continue reading Shoes
Bob
‘Hi Bob’ The gardener, who’d I’d never met said: ‘No it’s not Bob, it’s Steve the gardener. I’ve got some sad news.’ Wednesday. Expecting Bob to arrive the next day for Book Club and to stay a few days. I saw Bob’s call come through earlier in the day, but did not have time to… Continue reading Bob
Death and art of dying of David Bowie (Jan 2016)
Extraordinary. He did this. Showed there was another way. Outside a box. Reading the words to Changes again - or did i ever read them back then - he touches on universals then, Buddhist ones, transitory natures, etc. The Man who fell to Earth - at the Cut - good old Cut for screening it.… Continue reading Death and art of dying of David Bowie (Jan 2016)
The Music Room by Satyajit Ray, with Bob (Jan 2016)
Surprisingly well attended this dark January night, and the first of Bob’s choice of films at the Cut. We sat in the front 2nd row, Bob complaining almost immediately that the sound was ‘crap’. His breathing was shallow and noisy, but he could not hear this, for he was as always focused. On the film.… Continue reading The Music Room by Satyajit Ray, with Bob (Jan 2016)
Borrowing a person for a day
Radio 4 this morning: ‘Think of someone you admire. Adopt their posture. Attribute to them a colour. Make it even brighter. Borrow that person for that day’. Jaya. Yes. Yellow. Brighter. I find myself smiling, standing straight, borrowing Jaya for the day.
Rupert to Halesworth (Dec 2015)
Once again Rupert arrived by bicycle, this time from Ipswich, and in December dusk. After a swift half at the Wenhaston Star, we dined on light veg stir fry, easy in each others company. We'd known each other for over 20 years, and the dance was seamless to pick up after a gap in which Rupert had… Continue reading Rupert to Halesworth (Dec 2015)
Kalikellett 