The Centre of my Universe
The gravity of the Three Bridge Kingdom is impacting on my blood. Separating the settler from the gallowglass. One pools in my feet, the other runs only in my brain. The knowledge that there will come a day when I leave already projects a rupture in my heart.
As the attraction of place becomes stronger, it seems as if it is also warping the trajectories of others I love. Capturing them, creating orbits around the centre of my universe. Coalescing friends into an accessible solar system, ordered by the musica universalis of squabbling geese and boats gently rolling on the water.
The fact that my co-author’s partner lives canalside means the weekends he visits, my home feels like the terrace abode of The Beatles from Help. This week Tim Dedopulos moved from sleeping on my sofa to being a near neighbour with his own resident card. The gravitation even pulls in visitors from Verwood and Hadleigh who have been distanced for years. I can almost believe that one Sunday morning I will walk out for the papers and encounter my errant Canadian brother on the towpath.
These are harsh times and I need my mojo back. The echo of it at Worth Matravers made me realise just what I was missing. If I am to find it, maybe I should look closer to home. The sustaining magic of life is in the small wonder of friends and the soul-kissed love of my little patch of London.
As the attraction of place becomes stronger, it seems as if it is also warping the trajectories of others I love. Capturing them, creating orbits around the centre of my universe. Coalescing friends into an accessible solar system, ordered by the musica universalis of squabbling geese and boats gently rolling on the water.
The fact that my co-author’s partner lives canalside means the weekends he visits, my home feels like the terrace abode of The Beatles from Help. This week Tim Dedopulos moved from sleeping on my sofa to being a near neighbour with his own resident card. The gravitation even pulls in visitors from Verwood and Hadleigh who have been distanced for years. I can almost believe that one Sunday morning I will walk out for the papers and encounter my errant Canadian brother on the towpath.
These are harsh times and I need my mojo back. The echo of it at Worth Matravers made me realise just what I was missing. If I am to find it, maybe I should look closer to home. The sustaining magic of life is in the small wonder of friends and the soul-kissed love of my little patch of London.
Labels: Matt Adams, Mojo, Three Bridge Kingdom, Tim Dedopulos
posted by David at 11:48 PM
10 Comments:
the friends we choose are often a reflection of our own soul... or so the eejit in me likes to think.
ps my reference to Someled in previous comments is to do with the gallowglass connection and Somerled being the Lord of the Isles and all things Norse etc... but you probably know all that :)
It's a lovely area, and I'm glad to be here. I can see why you like it so much. I may not have the canalside loveliness of your particular spot, but a view from the 14th storey does go some way to make up for it -- even if it is the 14th storey of Life On Mars :) I'm looking forward to having you drop by for a cuppa some time!
Mirk – The red of my hair and moonlight white of my skin comes from MacDonald of the Isles, so I should know my gallowglass trajectories and Someled references.
Tim – After Friday, I am sure there will be many evenings of plotting in The Warrington or Street Hawker (though Surreal Girl’s names of Street Fighter and Street Walker* were so much better). Here is to D-swapping, ladies disappearing from locked rooms and looking out from your glass wall out on London as fairyland. As for the cuppa, you better get a good stock of Earl Grey in.
*She insists she did not say ‘Street Walker’ but I know what I misheard.
The wonder of friends, I don't think anyone could have expressed it better.
My trip is taking me to many a far off land but the times are always best when I have close and trusted friendly faces around me.
Yes, they are hard times - everyone seems to be struggling. I guess all we can do is take heart from the little things.
Puss
May your Mojo be Rising.. (That song always helps mine! Mr Morrison knew what he was doing..) I recommend a good loud listen to some Doors..
You'll never lose your writing Mojo, it seems, even if you're feeling a little flat in yourself, you still have the gift of lifting up others again with your Magick Words.
I agree with what you said about Good food is universal. Thank
I have no idea what Three Bridge Kingdom is but I do know what good friends are and what it feels like to lose mojo and how hard it is to get it back.
I hope it comes back quickly. :)
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Dickon – My friends are often wonders, in many senses of the word.
Puss – As ever, wise. All the small things.
Chandira – Thank you for your kind words. I do need some Mojo rising. Even my usual track for this purpose – The South Will Rise Again – is a little flat.
Andrea – I am glad we agree about that universality.
Z – 46 different people have used Google to try and find the Three Bridge Kingdom in the last fortnight. It is almost a Googlewhack as those three words only bring you back to EDER. All anyone needs to know is that it is my soul-kissed urban oasis complete with water, greenery, wildlife and pickable food.
As for mojo, uou are right. It is bloody hard to get the mojo back when you have lost it.
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