Monthly Archives: October 2017

Fruits of Form…

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… “‘Space’ is difficult.”

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“What we call space might not actually be spacious.”

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“‘Specious Space’? Nice…”

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“Like, what we call colour, might not actually be colourful.”

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“Even the space we’ve got and can all agree on is difficult.”

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“It’s empty, yet, holds everything.”

Fruits of Force…

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… “Shouldn’t ‘bigger’ be ‘greater’?”

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“Only, if something can be smaller than something else, yet, still greater.”

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“It’s difficult to think of anything.”

“I can think of one thing that is smaller than everything else and also greater.”

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“Yeah?”

“Space!”

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Solstice of the Moon: Older than time…

Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

Imagine standing  in the presence of a living being at whose feet Pontius Pilate played as a child. Local legend says that Pilate was born at Fortingall when his father visited the Roman Legions in the north. Imagine standing in the presence of a being already ancient long before Christianity came to its birth, perhaps long before Stonehenge was built. A being that may have already been old before Doggerland, the country that joined ancient Britain to Europe sank beneath the waves… That is how it feels to stand in the presence of the Fortingall Yew.

We had wanted to visit the yew for what seems to us a very long time, but which, to the tree, must seem of no more account than a passing zephyr in its branches. Looking at the map the night before and seeing how close the village of Fortingall was, we had decided against…

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An Arthur for Elizabeth?

The Silent Eye

Sir Philip Sidney composite Oct17 (Image: Sir Philip Sidney, Queen’s Champion. Original work – Author. Figure of Sir Philip Sidney from Wikipedia CC by Public Domain)

Philip Sidney was born, in 1554, into prosperity and with connections. He was the eldest son of Sir Henry Sidney and Lady Mary Dudley – making him a relative of the 1st Duke of Northumberland and the 1st Earl of Leicester, Robert Dudley.

He was educated at Shrewsbury School and Christ Church, Oxford.

If there was a man at Elizabeth’s court who epitomised the qualities of chivalry and courtly behaviour which were prized in the medieval foundations of that age, it was Sir Philip Sidney. In a life that was to end prematurely, he accomplished much, including distinction in the roles of solider, statesman and spy.

He rose to become a favourite of Queen Elizabeth, who made him her Champion of the Lists; otherwise known as jousting, which had…

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Given…

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If we ever had any doubts about what it is we do, then the circumstances of our ‘flying visit’ to Skipton was lying in wait to dispel them.

‘Hell, we weren’t even supposed to be going to Skipton!’

Over the course of the last five years, this ‘fella’, along with his close associate, St George, has appeared at various intervals to trail new revelations in their wake.

Given the nature of our endeavours it is entirely possible that our conversation the previous night had called this ‘revelation’ into being.

Or, had we been ‘called’ and that conversation merely a premonition of what was about to transpire?

Such ponderings are legion on the quest.

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Some of the easy to miss symbolism of this window, whose artist is still, as yet, unknown to us, is itemised below…

The dragon is situated on an island with two fruit trees which both appear to be bearing apples.

The sinuous coils of the dragon’s body is wrapped around the two symmetrically arranged trees.

The dragon’s body is multi-hued.

The dragon’s head is central and points skyward, and, in apparent acceptance, towards Michael’s raised spear.

Despite initial appearances Michael does not stand on the mainland but upon a rock or cloud.

Michael’s head is surrounded by a night sky of stars.

We await translation of the inscriptions on the banners or scrolls which also coil around the two trees.

The radiant symbol above the whole appears to be the greek letters, Omega, and Iota, conjoined.

Those readers with a penchant for arcane symbolism will not be surprised to learn that the church which houses this window has been struck by lightning on two separate occasions.

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Rooted in earth

The Silent Eye

revelation3 071

For the past few years I have been immersed in the folklore and history, traditions and myths of my land in a way I had never expected. This is not the country of governments and politics, nor the land of business and traffic jams or socio-economic divides. This is the deep well of life accessible to all.

I have seen and shared the growth of bluebells under the trees, the chalk cut figures spanning millennia, the hillsides and skies, the wildflowers, valleys and groves. I have danced the serpentine dance and walked barefoot where legends tell a dragon was slain. I have gazed upon living history in brick and stone, traced the human story in the earth and told tales of long ago.

The land itself has changed me, I think, or else awoken me to a deeper vision of the world that has, like the buried treasure of some…

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Death in Life

Sun in Gemini

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I had not thought to think on death

Until the line of light grew thin

Until the narrow, fragile band

Was all there was of what had been

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There was a time I had the Earth

Where ‘now’ embraced potential

Where energy flowed free and fast

My will the blueprint elemental

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Until the bog and fog grew thick

And weeds, untilled, grew mighty

But in what soil did darkness toil

That closed horizon’s bounty?

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To find my gaze was in the dirt

The crop and maze of liars

But shock propels and dark dispels

When boundless sky my eye aspires

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©Copyright Stephen Tanham

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