Weekly Diary

18/08/2013

I decided to spend the day as a pebble beach (I know this is harder on bare feet but one has to follow one’s dreams). June meanwhile went to the countryside carbuncle and pasted herself on a fold up table; after searching in vain for a wall to attach herself to she came home, finding me in the garden counting the number of teeth in a crocodile’s mouth (I lost count when it accidentally swallowed the lawnmower – another weekend without cutting the grass!). She went in, as wet as a winter cabbage leaf, and we spent the afternoon apart; standing on individual stone columns – however our pencil thin shadows still almost touched After I had finished the final line of the final verse I paused, confident in the thought that even rocks can think – June sat on a frog and hopped many times her own height.

19/08/2013

June rose like the lid of a sarcophagus and sleep walked to town, reciting the nutritional analysis from the back of a packet of cream crackers as she did so. I, as dictated by my genes, carved a piece of mature Cheddar into the shape a little girl holding a dove – apparently she let it go when a star went super nova in the constellation of Orion. I then found myself caught in the slipstream of glass crystal horse as it gallop clinked by and was late climbing the gleaming teeth to my open mouth studio. I sat on the chair before it could tell jokes but progress was slow and a field of bright poppies shimmered in the pastel red distance. I imagined myself back into a childhood cornfield, talking to a family of polar bears about the problems of keeping cool on the edge of a dying sun.

20/08/2013

Both June and I got up in a prehistoric time; there were no clocks but I counted to one hundred from the drips hitting the bespectacled stain in the bath – it is actually a map and as soon as I know the distant planet it represents I will follow it. June had to go to her place of work to not make money and I was able to raise the sails in my trireme studio earlier than of late. However progress was still slow and I battled with giant serpents shortly after they had enjoyed their mid morning tea with Laocoon. I then battled with disembodied hands which had been crossed with raccoons and finally with a gang of outlaws who had missed the train in High Noon. June came in with her very own cloud – she pulled a cord and it rained.

21/08/2013

I sat in the shrubbery painting tiny targets on my nails and watching the dog try on a dress several sizes too big. June went to town shortly after, closely followed by a family of cannibalistic clocks – luckily she wasn’t wearing a watch. I was even less organised than usual and had a bath walking down the street, Poppy came down behind holding a towel. I was busily playing team games on my palette when June contacted me using rose petals borrowed from Heliogabalus. I followed the scent to town, collecting the entrails of a mechanical yak and the spare wheel from the wreck of the HMS Campleltown and then walked home, looking into every hole in the ground as I did so. However I was still surprised when a pair of empty hands emerged from an overgrown roadside hedge.

22/08/2013

June wanted a day of baking gem stones and locked me out of the kitchen. Before working as a telegraphist for the Union Pacific railroad in the Eighteen Sixties I went out into the garden to talk to a number of Boer War soldiers busily reenacting the Siege of Mafeking in the rabbit hutch (the rabbit having moved into a penthouse apartment on the South Coast). One showed me a model of the USS Nautilus he kept in a tropical aquarium and then extolled the virtues of breeding veil tail guppies – in response I showed him a picture of myself as a young child in the company of a group of dog headed men. June came upstairs after lunch with a slice of cake she had christened Marie Antoinette – I went down later with an empty plate I christened Madame Roland.

23/08/2013

June got up to drink at a dried up river bed while I was still asleep in a tree. I was woken up by a woodpecker revving up his motorcycle and I then got the telephone number of a particularly attractive scarlet macaw (she assured me she was single) before coming down the stairs we have cleverly hidden inside a baobab trunk holding a piece of wood whittled into the shape of a branch. June dressed as a starfish and went out to meet a family of sea urchins. They went to town in a slowly moving puddle and I went into my studio with flippers instead of hands. When June came back I went out myself, this time with wings instead of arms; crossing the river in a water pipe as the bridge was occupied by a tangled mass of metal – it had once called itself an angel.

24/08/2013

June stood like an obelisk as I went out with a friend to a land of rainbows, watching single spots of rain as if they were falling punctuation marks – when I got out of the car the sky was unreadable. I talked to a sundial even though it was overcast and then went back inside the pamphlet house (it was nestled between several rows of novels, both soft and hardback). My friend returned with sacks of disembodied voices in the boot of his Assyrian war chariot and I returned home to find June had gone; although her pointed shadow remained. I went to question a questioner before settling in a chair and making up shapes for the remainder of the afternoon. It wasn’t long before the shapes were making up themselves and I could sit back and let them question my very existence.

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About Gerald Shepherd

Gerald Shepherd is a painter, graphic artist, sculptor, digital/multimedia artist, photographer, writer, curator and arts administrator. He has also been involved with science art, performance art, conceptual art, installations and environments (as well as peripheral creative pursuits such as garden design).
This entry was posted in Diary, Poetry, prose, Uncategorized, Writing and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Weekly Diary

  1. yourothermotherhere says:

    I like how much June was a part of each entry. It’s as if you’ve honored her for her birth month.

    • To be honest it is probably because she retired at the beginning of the month and I no longer get any peace and quiet!

      To be unforgiveably pedantic her birthday was actually the end of last month. I think you mentioned she was on the edge of two star signs.

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