A Much Earlier Weekly Diary

03/08/2007

I caught an early looper caterpillar to visit an old friend. We had tea from an orchid and then marched up the hill and marched down again. While breathing in the sweet country air I invented a footbridge shaped like a guitar so that all the lost rag dolls could cross the cultural ravine. When I came home I noticed that the door frame was wearing lipstick.

.

04/08/2007

I spent most of the day in the domain of the water sprites, where the friendly nymphs dance with walking stick men. I panned for gold but only found a few shaved whiskers which I dutifully stuck to a stray billiard ball – I then reminisced about two steam trains called Romeo and Juliet which collided while practising a pas de deux.

.

.05/08/2007

I was out in the garden for some time (about five strands of a temporal bandana) which for convenience I kept in a box. In the box next to mine Ginevra lay whistling a distant melody – contrary to the popular belief she could get out any time she wanted to. I went out in the evening pulling the remains of a giant squid behind me.

.

06/08/2007

I had a glorious day in the tranquil lands and I could feel myself grow younger until I reached the point when my parents laughed and slaved in a Nineteen Fifties kitchen. The small window was fully lit just before Odysseus pushed a burnt spike into it. I came out from behind the settee with more than a hundred legs and my first dog, Tammy, had a jet pack on her back.

.

07/08/2007

Another day in the tranquil lands (these nestle on large fluffy clouds; sometimes shaped like whales and dolphins) although there was a brief disruption when myriads of marching soldiers – in old fashioned uniforms – descended from a black disc that slowly moved across the sky when a bearded man blew his trumpet. I blew my nose and potted an agapanthus.

.

08/08/2007

This was the last of the truly tranquil days; where the past is the left hand of a pair of gloves. I painted zebra crossings in the jungle and later built the first pyramid in the concrete desert – in which was buried the Action Man I never had. While I was pulling dead soldiers out of the Nile my wife found a tadpole dancing a jig in a space time portal.

.

09/08/2007

After a trip in a first world war biplane I found myself in my father’s garden where I walked half naked through a bed of nettles to touch the fence. He gave me a grapefruit which I managed to lasso after a number of attempts. The bus wasn’t speaking when I caught it and when reflected in a vampire mirror was wearing a peroxide blond wig. My friend had hurt her back so I tied a firework to the evening shift.

Advertisements

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.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s