990307.1632

sitting on some rocks by st warna’s cove with ross , murray and aidan hicks . the sea is still and blue , the sun strong , the sky clear . the only sounds are the gurgling water and the oyster catchers’ mewing .

how suddenly the weather is transformed . from hail and wind to lazy paradise in one day . can this be the first week of march ? we’ve been scrambling round on the rocks , picking up computer cables and peculiar irish fridge magnets which litter the coast still from the wreck of the cita , a container ship which foundered here nearly two years ago .

what a blissful day . i keep stopping short and smiling for no particular
reason .

990308.0043

back home , just about to turn in . i listened through the whole of < einstein on the beach > , which must be about three hours . jeez .

still can’t quite believe today’s weather . it was like going to bed in march and waking up in july . normal service will no doubt be resumed tomorrow .

it’s going to be a busy few weeks now . i’m crossing over to st mary’s ( the big island ) tomorrow for several days of meetings and stuff . nick’s kindly letting me crash on his floor ( cheers ) . then i’m off to my parents in gloucestershire for a couple of days before hitting london for a whole week of school . finally a quick dash back down here in time for piers and rachel’s wedding , undoubtedly the golden ticket in the year’s hectic st agnes social calendar ( i couldn’t help noticing those < wedding > boxer shorts … ) .

it was weird . those fridge magnets the guys were picking up this afternoon were mostly irish good luck charms . so you’ve got this enormous ship carrying about half a million of them . and it gets wrecked …

: cH

990304.2319 tamarisk farm

the last few days it’s been blowing a hooligan . the sea is something to behold , more white than green . i sit here with johann’s bartok string quartets turned up reasonably loud , but still the pound and rush of the wind is dominant . later i shall do some recording .

today my ancient scanner was unexpectedly restored to life . its nervous innards found the voyage too much to endure and it rapidly became apparent that the staff of most service centres hadn’t even been born when it rolled off apple’s production line . so no spare tubes . undeterred , a bit of lateral investigation led me to < mickey fins > , an aquatic pet shop in penzance . the proprietor and i soon established that he had in stock a tube which was : a ) the right length b ) the right diameter and c ) really bright . so it arrived at the post office this afternoon ( the mail boat braved the wind and sea , more than can be said for the gp who ducked out of his fortnightly trip to the island ) . on first installation the scanner started making alarming retching sounds , so i spent several hours with it in pieces on the floor . miraculously it now works perfectly well so i’m feeling rather pleased with myself . the box in which the tube came makes the assertion that it < promotes coral , invertebrate and plant growth > . hmmm .

i cooked my first meal of indiginous vegetation at the weekend . inspired by piers’ example i stuffed my coat pockets full of sea spinach from a verdent patch down by porth killier and steamed it with pasta for supper . damn good . when i can summon the courage i’ll start on the seaweeds . i almost felt i was doing something illicit , eating food which i hadn’t bought from a shop . another indication how very far we’ve allowed ourselves to drift from our natural roots . cause for reflection i suggest .

: cH

990302.2045

i just came off the phone to granny . as i put the receiver down my face dropped from its cheerful reassuring countenance and i held my hand over my mouth . tears welled up in my eyes but not enough to fall . my diaghram tightened against my heart .

i feel a mixture of love , pain and helplessness . her memory and eyesight have started deteriorating quite rapidly and i know she is finding it agony . a package arrived from her today containing a big black jersey , the last she will make . all my life i have been surrounded by woollens of hers . jerseys , gloves , socks , toys . this last one was a struggle . she had already said she would not make any more but i asked her in december , knowing she would not refuse me . perhaps it was selfish , but i felt such a need for a proper full stop . it is a fine garment , thick , close fitting , with a high zipped collar . i picked out the soft merino wool myself and sent it to her in shropshire .

her other great crafts have been gardening and flower arranging . she has a remarkable sense of composition . a great gift .

all these things i took for granted most of my life , as one does .

i have strong enough relationships with several elderly friends that i have some glimpse of the suffering they endure . the progressive loss of competences and , most painfully , self . how many have grasped me , looked me straight in the eye and said < old age is terrible > . and i impotent even to reassure , for what honest comfort can i offer when i sense the darkness they endure ?

i try at least to fight against this wretched society’s dismissal of their opinion , all they have left to offer at the end . how mean to value this so low , to tolerate them as worthless burdens . we are sick .

: cH

990227.0203 tamarisk farm

i wasn’t going to write tonight . to be honest i’m becoming a bit self-conscious about the regularity with which i’m still transmitting . can i suggest that anyone who’s getting sick of this switches to digest mode so that they receive a weekly bundle ? or at least let me know . i’d far rather exercise a bit more restraint than end up writing to nobody but myself .

back to tonight though . having wrapped up work about an hour and a half ago i put on some more clothes and set off for the post box to drop some things in for tomorrow’s collection ( six days a week at midday , except in bad weather ) . as i walked i grew conscious that. my window was the only one on the island showing a light .

my packages deposited i struck back . but the briliant moonlight ( about three-quarters full ) and the distant rumble of the surf were too much for me . i walked down to the beach at periglis ( pronouned preg’lus ) where earlier in the day i had stood for half an hour in the rain watching two atlantic seals shyly observing me from quite close in .

beneath the crash and rush of the breaking waves i could sense the deeper roar of big surf . drawn by this i picked my way onwards across the tumbled rocks . around porth coose , through the brambles and grasses out to browarth point . with every stride the sound stronger in my ears , the same rising excitment i knew as a child . reaching the point i hauled myself up on some rocks looking down over the panorama of turbulent water .

all around me was seething foam , stretching out several hundred meters . the rollers combing relentlessly in , rising to a crest where they met sumberged reefs , erupting vertically against the face of rocks protruding above the surface . occasionally a shaft of spray would project across me . the awesome crunch and sizzle and growl all about me . i cannot begin to describe it .

anyone who has spent time watching the surf will know that waves are never constant . at intervals there will be several of greater strength than the rest . it so happened that shortly after i reached my perch such a cluster came in . they rose seven or eight feet , foam blowing from their peaks . one experiences these things things with one’s stomach as much as eyes or ears . in they swept , one after another , crashing around me and filling the air with spume .

this place makes me feel so alive . looking about me i could see the disused lighthouse hovering pale in the centre of the island , the three working lights ( round island , peninnis head , bishop rock ) sweeping their ever-present pulse , the dark shadows of other islands , two street lamps on st mary’s ( the only jarring note in the landscape ) , the thin clouds tearing across the moon , wind-combed bushes , everywhere the sea . the steady wind fresh on my face . the rock and turf underfoot .

anyway i wanted to write . my heart’s so full of it all i had to try to share it somehow .

the bach st john passion is on radio three as i write . some of the most
exquisite music ever written .

honestly guys , i’m almost in tears here .

: cH

990226.0012 tamarisk farm

this evening’s introduction to email and the web for the islanders went off okay .

i meant to say this in my last despatch , but cheers to craig mark hans and james for putting me up in london . always a stimulating house to be around .

on saturday my friend ross will be dancing on the lead float in sydney’s mardigras in front of about 650,000 addled ravers . so spare him a thought while you’re settling back for the football and papers . best of luck matey . knock em dead .

i turned on the radio for the first time this evening and radio 3 was transmitting a discussion about the craft tradition . another odd conjunction . it’s something i’ve been thinking about more and more over the last few weeks . seems to me you could arrive at quite a different perspective on digital production tools if approached from a craft perspective rather than an industrial one .

the radio’s still on but now it’s playing dvorak . wish it wasn’t .

: cH

990219.1317 kavorna bakery , st mary’s

lunch was a vegetable pasty and a cup of coffee . white enamel chairs , blue gingham cloths on circular tables , flouresecnt lights , radio one . i’m the only person here , even the staff are in a back room somehwere , from which laughter occasionally springs .

it’s a wet windy day . there’s no boat service from st agnes today , but i hitched a lift with the mail . there was some doubt whether it would be possible to come alongside the quay , as the tide was low and there’s a fair swell running . i had the usual last-minute flurry of throwing things in my bag and striding down to the quay . halfway down i saw the mail boat rounding the end of st marys , pitching around in the waves . there was no difficulty at the jetty . i took some photos of the mail being handed across , and of samson and bryher shadowy in the mist . then it was time to fling my bags in and leap down into the swordfish .

as a rule , people who don’t suffer sea-sickness usually seem to enjoy rougher conditions . my father and grandfather always recounted stories of small craft and heavy seas with relish . compared to what the atlantic is capable of , today’s conditions are pretty trivial , but i did have to brace myself against a bulkhead whilst taking pictures . i was glad to be on the water . johann suggested we should go out for a sail at an opportune moment . i couldn’t restrain a spaniel-like grin . at least i assume that’s what it looked like .

i arrived here on st mary’s and walked around the near-deserted streets of hughtown . a lone windsurfer was flashing assuredly back and forth across the harbour . while i was standing on porthmellon beach , looking out at the squalls passing over the islands , he came in and we spoke for a while ( his name’s tristan and he works in the boat yard ) . then i came here for some food .

later this afternoon i’ve got a meeting with the environmental trust , the body set up by the duchy to take on responsibility for the custodial aspect its role . i’m interested to hear their thoughts on information technology in the local economy .

my lesson yesterday evening went fine , i think . thirteen people turned up , that’s about twenty per cent of the island’s population ! i was absurdly nervous beforehand . i’d never done anything like it before . it made me realise how hard it is to put oneself in the position of someone who’s never held a mouse or clicked an icon . a very refreshing exercise . i was impressed that so many people took the trouble to turn up . there’s definitely interest . i’ve been asked to give another session next week on email and the internet . that’s more familiar ground at least .

time to go now . i’ve got mixed feelings about leaving the islands and being back in london for a few days . but i daresay i’ll enjoy it .

: cH

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i’m sending this from seb’s house in battersea ( an area of south london ) . arrived in town yesterday around five . found it all pretty hectic actually .

990218.1251 tamarisk farm

here’s the view from stef in melbourne ( full text ) :

– + –

Speaking as a total outsider –

Seems to me that the idea of the individual nation-state is giving way to …err….another nation-state, but on a bigger scale.

I believe that people living in this confusing, contradictory, world-weary time are somehow recognising that massive changes are needed for the human race to progress – that the outdated heirarchies don’t work, and that the weary old competitive models have created many of the things we don’t want in society (Europe’s a great example of that).

However, from what you’ve said, look like those in control are trying (and maybe they’ve succeeded) to retain control by channelling this tide into an arrangement that is basically more of the same – but now it’ll be the nation of Europe vs the nation of the US etc, a replay of times when the tiny city-states formed into countries.

Has anybody asked Europe’s citizens whether they want this to happen or not?

As the Australian saying so eloquently puts it, Same Shit, Different Bucket.

PS Maybe I should censor that last quote in case I’m reported to the Euro Net Police….

– + –

smiley mr blair has of course promised us a referendum . once he’s sure we’re sufficiently < informed > to get the answer right . the last paragraph of that gaurdian article ran as follows :
<
The bankers have succeeded in launching the Euro zone, and it will now be the industrialists who shape it. What the voters will make of it remains to be seen.
>
puts everyone in their place , eh ?

unusually there were three ( yes that’s 3 ! ) decent articles in this week’s new statesman [ traditionally left wing rag , quietly infiltrated by the forces of new righteousness and splendour ] . must be to stop the old subscribers getting too jittery . the statesman launched a charmingly clunky and hopeless website last autumn . but when i looked in last night , i found it had been replaced by a gleaming new one that’s alarmingly well constructed . couldn’t see any credits . interested if anyone knows who built it .

anyway , these are the articles :

http://www.newstatesman.co.uk/199902120022.htm on the emergence of a new < global social movement > opposing the sinister world trade organisation
http://www.newstatesman.co.uk/199902120028.htm on the folly of trying to plan cities – or implicitly anything – rationally ( written by paul barker of own beloved institute of community studies )
http://www.newstatesman.co.uk/199902120027.htm a hilariously vitriolic piece on the sparkly new < museum > in auckland , new zealand ( tom , christian : did you visit it ? )

here on aggie i’m feeling distinctly queesy about this evening’s impending tutorial . hope nobody turns up .

: cH