A Much Earlier Weekly Diary

I have just returned from holiday (my first for very many years) and all my blogs are running behind.  I hope to catch up by the end of the week!



I felt tired as I hid under the billowing sheet covered with strange hieroglyphs that I found in the night. I pretended to read the newspaper while secretly studying the image of myself as a very young man reflected in the mirror. I came home as quickly as I could; trying to hide the lambs tail that was growing out of the back of my trousers.



I walked in both the real and imaginary doors with the aim of taking the slant out of all the letters that had suddenly appeared scrawled on the wall. I then compared the colour of blood and charted the position of the next meteorite strike. As predicted by Nostradamus I managed to press numbers on all the vests in a clergyman’s vestry before smiling myself home.



June, my wife was pirouetting in a musical box from early morning (until the dinner bell rang and all the headless people sat down to a pointless lunch) so I spent the morning hanging upside down like a bat. I planned to go outside to be a witness to the birth of a new sun but decided instead to play on my own in the dark.



The start of a new day which I subtitled “Purple Haze”. I walked to town, which at the time was pretending to be the filling in a soufflé, pulling a small trolley which held all the unfulfilled aspirations of those needle like people who manage to get lost in haystacks. I did my eleven thousand waltz movements and then sailed home.



I dreamt the house I was sailing on had got stuck in an ice field and I had to find an infinite number of cheese wires to attempt to free it. I got up with the entire contents of a bee hive replacing my head. I buzzed myself about the Non Euclidean bedrooms before taking the catapult to the high Peruvian plain where I work for a couple of hours a day. I subsequently shot myself home again.



I woke while being chased by a charging rhinoceros. In the heat of the moment I had to paint my teeth while jumping over the neighbours fence. I raced to the Martian race track where I pulled a model of a 25th Century space city from under the skirt I was wearing as a joke. When trudging home through the mud of World Wars I was genuinely surprised by the offer from a row of tropical birds perched on the live wire.



I flew out into the countryside of yesteryear; riding on a large white swan, my childhood locks blowing in the wind. I flew over the large craters that looked like mouths and settled down among the long grass where giant rodents where finally discovering Christ. After a quiet conversation I flew back home; over large mouths that looked like craters.


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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