Yesterday's Today Post

Hello, today's post that was supposed to be yesterday's post is what I have. I've finally been out and about in the countryside that surrounds my home, foraging, picking, eating the odd Blackberry or four and generally enjoying the sunny September showers. Not all is ready to pick and some is more than ready, which is why I ate more than I collected. One more week for the apples and the same for the hazel nuts, all else is good to go or still hiding. The year's weather has been odd and as a result the various things that are good to eat are coming up at staggered intervals and that, in my eye's at least, is a good thing, the harvest will last longer and thus so will the merriment that goes with it.

My Beloved Ridgeway

Apples On The Way

Blackberry's Well Protected

A Blackberry Or Four

An abundance of Hazelnuts 

Different Competition, Pheasants are partial to a Blackberry too.

 A true Crab Apple, rare enough amongst today's accidental hybrids.

A sweet and sour cross pollinated Apple on the way home, very tasty.

A welcome rest in the shade of Ash and Hawthorn

 A view from the shade

Another place on my way home

 I managed to find the ingredients to my favorite pudding, Apple and Blackberry crumble, with crushed Hazelnuts in the wonderful crumble of which I write (and dream), and on top of that, even though I have to wait for a little bit longer, I got to enjoy the country around my home, a fine result for any day.

Remember, unless you are 100% sure of what is edible, do not eat it.

There are many courses that teach the skills country folk have by birth, and believe me, we'd rather everyone knew and enjoyed the countryside, that way respect for it is born.

Peace In All

The Back to Front Post

Hello, earlier today I said that I was going fruit picking but  I ended up helping out with a gardening project my family are currently undertaking. I enjoyed myself never the less and it means I get to go foraging tomorrow instead. It's a lovely place to work, Blewbury Downs, and I've always loved to work outside, I've actually done more of that than anything else over the years, planting things and watching them grow, little pleases me more. So, instead of the post I had planned to put out there for you to read after my day of all things wild food, I shall post whatever I can conjure up from memory, imagination and all the other places we delve when we write. I sincerely hope  you enjoy it.
Here goes, I'll go with what I know best, poetry. When I write poetry, various things pass my mind as quick as only thought can. I'll give you the explanation as the voice of my inner monologue or at least how it would sound if it was as simple as just words passing through my mind. I begin "How do you feel man?" to which I nearly always reply "Screwed up man, not just a bit, but real weird, my thoughts are crushing me!" "yeah tell me about it bro, I'm you", something outside of the world I'm always alone in distracts me, an apple falling from the gnarled old tree in the beer garden of my local pub where I often write, a cyclist passing, lycra clad brazen colours flash in and out of my half vision, the other half still lingering in day dreams as I ease my posture under the broad leafed oak I sometimes sit under on the bridleway running through the corn fields south of my home.  I drift back to the dream, "Are you going to write anything...or just dream" "there's to much in here for me to start, thoughts hurt, how the hell am supposed to get this all down?" "pick one and start". I accept my own advice and begin, looking around simultaneously not seeing anything in front of me. If the first line's good the rest will mostly come to me without thought...

Purgatory Soundtrack

This is the line that frees the mind, pressure release valve, boiling thought's engine burning,

seized machine, rusted by contrived speeches, it was the man on the radio, catalyst of confusion,

on rolling hills I stand, all true and free and pure, digital sound wave's  liar,

tainting the air with greed, how do national ears believe in poison, check your pulse's good,

not dead in hell, just a world bending over to receive a false wisdom.

I have faith in the people, we've heard it before, slavering tongue's of cowardly upstarts, 

rotting under the burden of their own cheap souls, worth more downstairs with weight of evil's,

money of the grave, bodily ownership of six by three plots, when you can no longer use it,

bone bagged buried cot.

Death tax instigators can use them, souls doomed to ground, the hollow void in between,

where no laughter sounds, your own voice lying on the radio, purgatory soundtrack, 

truth would have freed you, form all that's now black.

©D.N.Read2013

I speak to myself again, "How do you feel now?" "the pressure's gone, I can't believe I heard that earlier" "Well, you never know, your poem may touch someone, maybe make a difference" "I really do hope so". I close my book, and carry on with my day or shut up my laptop in this case and do the same, hope in heart.

Peace In All

Before I Go Fruit Picking

Hello, I shall be posting later today as I am off out fruit picking, wild fruit picking to be more accurate. The time of year is here again to clean out jars for preserves, make space in dark cupboards for apples to dry, to gather nuts and if I'm lucky enough, I may stumble across some of the varying and wonderful mushrooms that grow wild near my home. There is something about every stage of every season that I look forward to, and this one, as with all the others is unique. So, later on when I have gathered the wild bounty the country has to offer today, taken a picture or four and have been suitably inspired I shall post again,  hopefully with a story for your hearts, a picture for your eyes and poem for your soul, then you too fill be well fed. I hope you've enjoyed the starter.

My competition!

Peace In All

A Quick Post

 Painter's Dying Sunrise

Was this rising sun so seen as pure,

distant flame's dawn enchantment,

time untold the solar lure,

unchanged through our advancement.

True smile direct from soul,

 thought ensnaring fire,

chorus of the dawn's bell tole,

rising of the pyre.

Canvas love's failing grasp,

colours mixing lifetime spent.

frozen moment's brush stroke dawn,

next second's glance perfection rent.

Still statues standing sunrise,

time trapped painter's watchful eye,

   become silhouette sculptures,

only wasted moments wait to die.

©D.N.Read2013

Peace In All

The Journey Included

Hello, I ended yesterday's post with a photograph of a seagull from the town I had again visited over this weekend past. Here are some more choice pictures from my latest trip, the journey included.

The ever welcoming road

Some go by sea.

The harbor, as beautiful by day...

...and dusk...

...as it is by night.

The way home.

An Oxfordshire sunset, not far from my beloved Ridgeway.

Peace In All

Another Atlantic Adventure

Hello, I have been to my favorite parts of north Devon again this weekend past. As usual the weather was good in a changeable sort of way, and equally to be relied upon, the friendly, welcoming and hospitable attitudes of the coastal people, but then this is an Island. I have always found it rather amusing and at the same time very strange that even a lot of the natives of Britain forget that we are on an island and not a very big one at that. I once heard people chatting in a cafe down the cobbled street from the cinema nearest my home after having watched a very famous film, a film about the crew of a fishing vessel that encountered a storm of enormous proportions, I forget the name of the film, I remember it was good and the fact I can't remember the name does not reflect upon it's worth as a piece of cinematic art. Anyway, the fishermen were islanders, and the cinema goers I write of now seemed to dwell on this fact, they indeed appeared to be enthralled by this,  "Oh how wonderful island life must be!" they said, and "What a wonderful life...to live on an island...and in a fishing village too!" they crooned, and so on and so forth. This as some of you may be able to imagine struck me as rather odd, I wrote a poem about it that I shall dig out and post in a day or two, I had to do something, writing as is the normal run of things with me seemed to be the best thing to do at the time. Sitting there dumbfounded like one of the gaping fish I had just seen as giants on the cinema's screen was not an option. I thought about this for the appropriate amount of time and not a second longer, and came to the conclusion that on this particular subject, as regards the state of today's wide spread confusion about anything not written in foot high flashing letters, may be because we are an island nation, more than that, an island nation surrounded by literally hundreds of smaller islands...still? We, are an island nation, and now that I've been more critical of things than is usual for me I'll make my point. It is a very old point and a very valid point, and though I make it to all, I must particularly impress this point upon islanders so that you, and me, can speak to others of it. The world is an island, we all live closer to each other than it seems at times, and it would most definitely be better if we all made a concerted effort to get along with each other. Planet Earth? Earth Island.  

Like this Seagull in the fishing town I just visited, we must all take a step in the right direction.

He was heading toward a chip by the way, he keeps no chips on his shoulders, he swallows them, and then they are gone. We'd look pretty stupid if we couldn't take a leaf from the book of a Seagull.

Peace In All

Hello, good afternoon, good evening and good morning depending where in the world you are, and wherever you are in the world at the moment I would imagine that there is trouble of some description brewing, that as we all know is just the way of things, but we also know that there is little we can do about it. A blog won't stop a war or end world hunger, although if we all tried helping at the same time on the same day it might help, but alas I digress. Not much can be done...but here you are seen to be from the countries you're from with no judgement, I have ill feeling toward those who are malicious for the sake of being malicious only, the rest of you, be you Christian or Muslim, Hindu or Sikh, Buddhist  or Shinto, black, white, yellow, red, blue skinned fan of rugby or football, cricket or baseball, tennis or badminton, I think you get the point, it matters not! Here is a place where I write for you to read and hopefully enjoy, to pass your eye's over my latest paintings or photographs and  generally not have to be bombarded with various speculations of doom. I am having a break from writing poetry anthologies at the moment, so what I write will be almost entirely here for you ladies, gentlemen, anything in between, or who ever you deem yourselves to be. Please feel free to comment on anything you'd like to, however I will just say this, which anyone who has a taste for contradictory  irony should enjoy, 'The only thing I do not tolerate is...intolerance'. I happen to think that's quite an amusing quandary of life that  beautifully illustrates the general state of affairs. The only thing that should not be allowed (bar the obvious) is intolerance. Acceptance of each other is of paramount importance and I happen to think that a vast proportion of the world is already there. I was having a chat in my local pub not more than a couple of days ago and the subject of racism came up, and to my ever lasting delight, nearly everyone sighed, from the polish chap I'm only just getting to know to the Irishman at the other end of the table with various shades of skin in between, sighed and and said their own variations of "what racism". Now don't get me wrong, I'm not as naive as that which I just wrote makes me sound, I know it still happens, there will always be idiots after all, but the point is, in many places it's so far from peoples minds that when someone says anything about racism their comments are met with contempt, if there was a word less harsh I'd use it, but contempt is the word. The racism tune has been over played in many places, change the record, a large percentage of us are colour blind, creed blind and religion blind, but what we are not blind to is people stirring up ill will where there is none. The places where it no longer exists will grow larger, the example of these places  will spread. It is a passing darkness and no more, the light is returning to drive away the shadows of that particular problem. Pull together for the good things, laugh at the bad old days, and keep moving forward, pushing the light as you go.    Peace In All

Hello, I have said this many times before and I'll make this the last time I do, you all know the score by now. Sorry for not posting for a while I've been creating, both painting and writing, and of course I've been filling the inspirational well, the place where I delve down deep for the roots of feeling that I try to convey in my art, whether it be the painting's I paint or the writing's I write. Here are some photos of the places I've been and the things I've seen, with a couple of the things I was inspired to create along the way.

This is a wonderful sight in this day and age 'Business as usual at this, one of north Devon's political hubs'

The first pristine day on the beach, I've seen the place where sea meets land in many of it's moods, and no time is ever the same as the last.

'Dogs Must Be Kept On Leads' fortunately at this particular beach as long as you clean up after your buddy's anyone can run free on the sand. I love the look on her face when I take off her lead, as I've said in a couple of my poems, humanity would do well to take a leaf from the 'Book of Dogs' and enjoy the simple things, like the freedom of the beach.

'Inspiration for the greatest of deeds can come from the simplest of acts'

©D.N.Read 2013

Damien Hirst's 'Verity'

This photo taken at night does nightly virtue, uniquely in my experience, this particular sculpture is good in any light, I've seen her on stormy days, in the searing heat of midsummer, and on many other occasions as well. I'm not usually a fan of Damien Hirst's work, but in my humble opinion this piece will stand as one of the greats.

I really needn't say much but this; look out for painting's of night time sea's, and writings of the ebb and flow.

Lights on the waters of any harbor have always enchanted me, this night was certainly one of those times that fill the well of inspiration.

The harbor town chapel and light house, guiding fishermen in many ways for many years of seasons.

Art for the folk of this day, the sea has claimed back the driftwood, rolled away the stones, filled in the holes and washed away the circles in the sand...but we had it for that moment, as did all the folk who passed that day.

The sleepy hidden valley's of the moorlands have always held magic.

This day, just to breathe was to fall under the spell.

 Woodland, the cradle of my soul.

On the road again, I always have the 'Canned Heat' song of the same name in my head when I get back to traveling. 

A homeward stretch.

This was one weekend of many filling the well and living life, as the old saying goes 'Work to live' find a balance between paying the bills and enjoying life with every breath and freedom is yours. You don't have to live in a hippie commune to live the dream.

Peace In All 

My latest painting, 'Fresh Ghost's Fair Well To Mortal Face', I hope you like it.

Tree Colours

Tree Colours

I have a fascination with trees as you may have guessed by now, here are some of my latest treapreation paintings. Peace.

Enjoy colours!

Temples Of The Painted Mind: Transitional Reality DefinedHello, as most of you...

Temples Of The Painted Mind: Transitional Reality Defined
Hello, as most of you...: Transitional Reality Defined Hello, as most of you know I write poetry, I also paint and when the very special fancy takes me, I create...

Transitional Reality Defined

Hello, as most of you know I write poetry, I also paint and when the very special fancy takes me, I create sculptures. Writing however has always been my passion. I have been called an artist, a painter and a poet...I am actually a gardener, a woodsman and a student of the world around me who just happens to express all of these things through poetry, painting and on the odd occasion, sculpture. The truth is, if I really thought about this particular subject I could honestly say that I am at least a couple of dozen things, all of which, much the same as yourselves, go to make up me.

 Once, not so long ago, a good friend of mine was talking about all of these things; what makes a person who they are, what people describe themselves as, and the fact that a lot of people when asked, "so what do you do fella/miss", they almost always reply with their job title and description, their profession. Now, if your job is your life, I'm not knocking it, or if you love your job so much it becomes an automatic answer, great, maybe it's a pleasant mixture of both, and in that case, all the better, but...what makes you, you? What happened to make you, what's broken you, was or is your breaking your making, what defines your reality, what is your own personal meaning of life?

Yes I know I said "define your reality" and yes I know it's a cliche, but think about it, everyone has their own take on the world and what happens therein, their own specific perspective that moulds their ideals, and this is what defines their own personal reality, it's not just a mildly clever cliche.

When I began writing poetry in earnest with a mind to share my words with others, I never for one minute thought I would ever go as far as publishing books filled with my poems, poems that reflect my personal reality. I have written poems, the inspiration for which are taken from my darkest hours when despair, if you can imagine this, was my only company, the flip side of which reflects the exact opposite, where the first conscious breath of the day seems like utter and complete joy bathed in the light of the rapture of existence. There are many of my views and opinions and words inspired by the views and opinions of others, about everything from religious strife or harmony, to the political storm that seems to be raging world over at the moment and how these things and all in between effect the day to day lives of us all. There are poems of love, both tragically lost and the tempest such loss caused around me and the unexpected and magically found love, with all the wonder it brought to my life. There too are many poems of my travels and the varying experience of emotion along the way both good and bad, with acts of savage wickedness and the awe inspiring random kindness and love that holds firm the fire of human dignity and fellowship and...the world of spirituality (for lack of a better word understood by many) that transcends race, religion, creed and colour.  There are poems of the many natural wonders I have been so incredibly lucky to have seen, even the small things that add up to the beauty of the day, like music, both man made and what I like to call 'nature's orchestra', visual art too in it's many exiting forms and the plethora of sights, sounds, smells, thoughts and feelings that inspires such things.

There have been many great people who have inspired me, I have the honour to know many of them and the luck to call most of these my friends. There too have been members of my family, both past and present who have have inspired me. I wrote these books and will continue to write them throughout the transitional period of this life, I hope they in their turn will inspire and help people.
This then, is that which defines, 'my reality'...how about you?

http://amazon.com/author/d.n.read 

These are some of my latest paintings,

some have sold, some have not...never the less, enjoy!

Hello

Hello, because I am quite regularly away from this and doing all the other things I get up to which, even if you've read all of my blogs you're still only getting the small picture of how much I'm doing elsewhere and I'm not boasting or making weird excuses, that's just the way it happens to be. Anyway, this particular post is to say hello to all the people from all the countries that have so far looked at my blog, this list is not in any order and thus reflects nothing about favor or who has visited more, it's just the way I happen to have written the names of your respective countries down in my note book. I make a list so that I do not forget to say hello and thank you all, after all, courtesy costs nothing as the old saying goes, an old saying by the way because in my eye's it has always been relevant and true. So without further ado I would like to say hello and thank you to;

Ukraine

Netherlands

Great Britain
Nepal
Serbia
Malta

Macedonia
Trinidad and Tobago
South Korea
Morocco
Vietnam
Poland
Austria
Romania

Canada
Indonesia

Russia
Papua New Guinea

Greece
Japan
Kazakhstan

France

USA

Finland
Ireland
Taiwan

Ghana

China

Australia

Israel

Germany

Brazil

I happen to think there may be others that I have missed. If this is so please feel free to let me know, and if I have missed you, I will say hello and thank you now, and a special thank you for looking again (if you do) even if I did miss you out.
Some of you I have already said hello and thank you to which is probably why I have you on the list in my head instead of the one on paper and thus why you're not mentioned above, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Hungary and Italy to name but a few. You are not forgotten.

Peace In All

ETIHWBLACK

I'll tell you all about this when I've been to sleep for a few hours. Peace in all...

I have painted another one, as I said, the inspiration has been coming in floods. This one is a bit odd in the fact that when I put it up for sale on ebay I was asked to choose what style my painting falls under? Well...realism was one that's close for this painting, but then so was surrealism. I shall tell you for why. I was walking in Scotland through a valley that's just like this in shape and to a certain extent colour. I have been almost haunted by dreams of this perfect valley for a good while, the vision of this valley that I painted, almost the same, so I suppose being as my dreams have become intwined with my reality in the case of this painting, and the fact that it did all seem to be, very surreal, means that it falls under both and so thus is it listed...never the less I hope you and whoever buys it enjoys the image, the painting, the really surreal I have called 'Where You Look From'.

Well I put those paintings of mine up for sale, and I've painted another, the inspiration has been coming in floods, which is nice. The writing too, I have been working (if you can call it that) on the the second in a trilogy of poetry books called 'A Quill Unchained' the first of which is entitled 'Whispering Ink Song', available on amazon in kindle and paperback formats........blah, blah, baaaaahh, I am starting to sound like one of the sheep...never good. Anyway, Yesterday I finished another painting which I have called 'Sun Peek Silhouette', I painted it from a memory of mine, when once, a few years back now I suppose, I was wandering in the mountains looking for inspiration, learning and great many other things besides, as one does. I remember it with clarity, one enormous peak and many others behind it in the distance, the sun was going down, the insects were biting and I'd not yet found a place to camp for the night, but it all meant very little, as the sun sank lower the silhouette of the mountains became almost two dimensional, very bizarre and very beautiful. Here it is, how I remember it, but when I think of what it would look like now on canvas. Kind of...you know what I mean.

Oh and when I said that I don't call it work when I write, I simply meant that more often than not people associate work with hard ship, stress, the good old comment "I hate my job", and the general consensus  that work is a drag or at least can be, and I don't because I love what I do.

I hate working inside, truth be told, I'm a gardener that writes poetry and stories from time to time, and I also paint quite a lot too. 

Self expression can set you free you know!