There is magic around every solstice & equinox.
This year’s winter solstice is no different. I must thank my angels. On this occasion, he has a very earthly name, as Andy, for opening an unexpected door…
Andy is better known in WordPress as City Jackdaw. A fine poet, the writer and fellow blogger, he is also an author & a friend.
Andy, THANK YOU ☺️
My poetry has now a home. Nordicblackbird has found her roost.
How magical and somewhat surreal to know a friendship struck in such way would lead to be united & bound by a same publishing house.
I feel ever so humble.
What a wonderful Yule present 🙂
My forthcoming break (starting tomorrow afternoon) is all sorted out: that first manuscript will reach the Norwegian capital!
Filed under 2015, 60N, blogging, celebration, december, Diaz, geopoetics, home, introduction, life, literature, north, poet, poetry, poets, project, shetland, shore, spirit, Uncategorized, verse, verse poetry, winter, world, writing
saturday dusk treasures
I love my island at sunset.
Fire reverberates on each sandgrain; sandstones find pleasure on washed kelp… Feathers and stones always write stories in that earth tongue one does not always understand.
As feet find their roots in wet sand, I become one with Arcania.
There, on my way to daily walk by the shore, I kept in mind the text I read earlier that day, which I received from our curach skipper Macdougall. To my humble nomadic heart, it resonated like a message in a bottle. It speaks of continental inscriptions: geographaphs, chronographs, phonographs and paragraphs. It notably took me back to Gulliver, Friday and Robinson Crusoe.
This bridge of sand allows such trek. From mainland to island – just as Kenneth White runs away from motorways of western civilisations! My sandbrige provides the shoormal – this critical edge as Diaz calls it; rite of passage to my topical paradise, where north Atlantic protects its natural causeway at high tides, like some self-defence mechanism… Others can look from the distance or wander through without knowing…
It’s big enough to sustain all kinds of assaults, pulls of the moon and man-made signatures. The water acts as a rubber and deletes traces from one’s feet.
Earlier this year, I painted it with pixels. This blog entry was entitled Snapshots from Arcania …A summer before that, I painted it with words.
Filed under 60N, Arcania, atlantic, celebration, colours, Diaz, earth, geopoetics, Hernan, kenneth, white, world, writing