A Much Earlier Weekly Diary



By a strange fluke I lived today in the early Seventeenth Century; on a wide lawn with birds spiralling like clerics. I ate off my ruff and sat for a portrait which would remain undiscovered for three hundred years – during which time my scowl was transformed into a laugh.



I went out with the constellation lady to an old market town that circled the blackened sun. The glove puppets that poked their false heads out of very long sleeves (winding like pavements) called this the past. We ate brunch in a department store with flames issuing from my open hands.



In the wet garden for most of the day; here I stretched my arms up skywards so that the creeping plants could climb. I continued to stand like a grand staircase in the pouring rain for several hours, waiting for some atavistic lady to slide down the ornate banister before falling through a hole cut into time itself.



I rode a pig with long spindly legs to the doormat of the town hall, where I dismounted like a pigboy in a lost continent. My long lasso kept my trousers up. I had to work blindfolded for three and half hours before coming home as a meteor entering the Earth’s atmosphere.



I went to town sitting cross legged on a flower strewn mat which hovered several feet above the pavement. When arms emerged from the earth I touched the tips of their fingers – in the dreams of my past the harvesters scythed off the arms at ground level, putting them into embroidered sacks on their backs.



I took the giant tongue to town, arriving there about eleven. This is when the older elves pull the younger ones out of their pockets. I pressed scented flowers and poured gravy onto place mats instead of plates while inventing mathematical calculations – all of which proved to be wrong. I walked home on stilts with a flying cup and saucer overhead.



I was up so early this morning that I accidentally discovered I habitually spent my deep sleep in the engine room of a ocean liner. I dreamt of painting red hearts on the funnel and later realised my ambition of being the first Eskimo in the rainforest. I came back from the jungle with a herd of animals in my jeans.



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).
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