dreams and nightmares - no. 108

ceremony

dreams and nightmares - no. 107

the night-tripper ritual

Another sun sinks, carving light into the hillside as we wait. The night-tripper is close. Running his hand across the face of a grassy knoll. Teasing out music which floats on fast-chilling air.

Will he come?

Strange shadows emerge from priapic stones sunk ready into the hill plateau. They wait too for the night-tripper as one last cloud hovers. Lone star set into stone.

A seed-head spumes, one last rail against the dying sun.

Is he here yet?

life on the ceiling

piccadilly arcade

windrush

Dear Sheddists,

earlier this week we pay a visit to to the 'Windrush Garden'.  Originally planted for Chelsea Flower Show it's now been relocated, lock stock and barrel, to a new home outside Birmingham Town Hall.

The display is a poignant reminder of the hopes, aspirations, disappointments and joy of a generation that came to serve. A generation from whom we could learn so much.

We read the stories on the back of giant dominoes that lie in the wake of the 'Empress Windrush' and meet a very dignified lady who traveled from Jamaica with her family all those years ago.  She tells us of landing in London, aged nine in thin, tropical clothing and being taken by her father to buy a coat to protect her from the cold.  She's with her lovely daughter who spotted her mother's photograph in a display in Central Library and is clearly, and rightly, proud of her family history.

These are troubling times in the world right now and it's so good to be reminded of the spirit of hope and optimism brought to us all those years ago by the Windrush generation.

Yours as ever,

electrofried(mr)

dreams and nightmares - no. 106

the night-tripper