A Much Earlier Weekly Diary


I spent the early hours in the Great Countryside; this resides on the other side of the temporal waterfall. I came home sitting on the lap of the biggest Aunt Sally in the world. A stream of black birds followed the bus.


A very busy day, I tried out the costume of Hydra but then decided to play Hercules. The drama opened and closed with arms and legs protruding from small fluffy clouds. Words were written on the clouds; the biggest cloud had the smallest word – ouch!


I felt unnaturally tired all day (like I had been fighting mythical monsters all night) and did little more than write messages on a tent the size of a postage stamp. I felt unwell in the evening and went to bed early – in an Etruscan monument.


Ill in bed all day. The bed was a giant animal’s jaw with columns of hot air and steam. I decided I was a sinking ship and swallowed ice cubes.


Still very bad, I hardly got out of bed all day and trees started to take root on the duvet. A hunting part of long tailed tits raced among the branches.


I discovered I had got chicken pox – just as I volunteered to become one of the Argonauts. The black ship sailed away over the horizon like a giant tooth. I put the Golden Fleece on my head and scratched it.


The chicken pox got worse. A giant furry octopus dangling over the bed and incessantly tickling me. I read about ruined palaces where paintings became invisible and the old towers escaped with young servants.


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.

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