Sunday 30 September 2012
Wednesday 26 September 2012
Jah Rastafari
Kili |
I shake my fixative spray too vigorously and the sea-green glass beads of my bracelet scatter. I gather up the ones I find. Gather. Last night I overheard this in the Army and Navy Club:
'Are your parents still alive?'
'No, they're gathered.'
Saturday 22 September 2012
Rastafari
Overheard outside Tom's Delicatessen:
A: 'I have a yoga class now.'
B: 'Oh, do you go to the Life Centre?'
A: 'No, someone comes to my house.'
B looks as if dashing her brains out against the nearby lamp-post will be the only cure for her humiliation which is going to be life-long.
Clifton aka Kili |
I'm in army fatigues searching among the street people for a man without a telephone. Egbert, the St Lucian Rasta, my most reliable and loquacious model. I find him holding court outside a cafe on Portobello Road, all cheekbones and diminutive elegance.
Egbert kisses my hand fervently and calls me empress. I feel like one.
'Wie geht es Ihnen?' says Egbert to Kili.
'Es geht mir gut.'
'Heil Hitler.'
'Sieg Heil.'
'Whatever.'
Egbert |
Saturday 8 September 2012
A vicarage tea party
...might have been more racy but to spare certain sensitivities I have blogged about drawing Japanese rope bondage on http://boulevardisme.blogspot.co.uk/2012/09/japanese-rope-bondage-at-bound-in.html
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