990326.2345 tamarisk farm

here i am again , lying in bed with my psion glowing up at me from the pillow . it seems a long time since i last wrote under these circumstances . my initial frenzy of writing has calmed down a bit , much as predicted . for the first month every step brought its rush of intense new experience . now i am becoming more deeply engaged with my environment and my work . there are still frequent moments of joy and absorption , but i no longer feel the same need to rush to my keyboard and detail each one .

i am conscious that my record has to date been exclusively positive , something i think worthy of comment . the basic truth is that i am loving what i am doing , but it is also true that i tend to look at my circumstances in a positive light . furthermore , when one takes such a leap as i have , departing from normal expectations , there is a pressure to prove oneself not to have done a foolish thing .

none of this would matter , but i have claimed this string of despatches as a part of my work . a record of what it was like for me to spend a year on an island . thus i should apply the same standards as i do to other elements of my documentation .

so i shall take this opportunity to record that i did feel a bit lonely earlier this evening . not for more than half an hour , and not with any great drama , but i had a wistful sense that i would like to be in a relaxed environment with some friends . the context of this is that i spent most of the period between four and eleven cataloguing and scanning slides . i took a short break to eat , but probably not more than twenty minutes . i am very content doing this work ( though the oft-crashing scanning software continues to irk me ) , but it would be even better if leavened with company .

there we are , i don’t wish to dwell on it . indeed it is worth mentioning that i sometimes experienced far more intense isolation in london , a city where one is ever conscious of things going on to which one is not party . and i would say i was a pretty social creature , latterly at least .  it’s been another sunny spring day here . i find it increasingly hard to make myself sit inside in front of a computer during daylight hours .

: cH

990325.2305 tamarisk farm

my new jaz drive arrived this evening . don’t know whether fedex has a special fleet of courier jet-skis or something for places like this ( i can imagine the kind of people who would drive the things ) , but one way or another it turned up . so now , as i write , the past five years are fairly literally flashing past as my accumulated files are copied over , the name of each displayed on the screen for a moment . every one with its memories and evocations .

for the first time my project has a tangible hook from which to suspend the vagueries . out of discussions with various people emerged the idea of the scillonia digital workshop , a distributed production / training / regeneration initiative . so now i’m trying to write proposals and get the concept hammered into shape . i’ve a feeling there could be something quite interesting in there .

the wedding was an amazing event . after a grey and miserable start to the day ( joffy and i were down at the hall by eight , trying to fasten down the canvas awning to prevent the whole thing being carried out to sea ) the sun insouciantly popped out and shooed away all the clouds an hour or so before the event kicked off . the little church , down by the water at periglis , was crammed full . a toddler was allowed to wreak havoc throughout the service , lolloping around and gurgling with delight at the eccentric goings-on . piers and rachel got through without fluffing their lines and escaped afterwards on wendy’s electric buggy , complete with big white bow .

the reception was outrageously fed by susan , ranging from hunks of lobster to parcels of cornish goat’s cheese wrapped in sea spinach . the day ended with an unreconstructed singsong in the turk’s head . i wound up with plenty of photos , some good sound recordings and a foul hangover . piers and rachel solved the problem of where to go for a honeymoon by fleeing to an even smaller island ( population twenty ) in the caribbean .

i’ve been feeling bad about how little exercise i’m getting compared to the daily cycle runs across london in my past life . yesterday evening i threw a frisbee around with aidan while ross was milking the cow in the next field . a heavy fog rolled in off the sea and put paid to that . but it’s a start . i must repair johann’s rusty old bike .

nato aircraft are bombing serbia , an independent sovereign state , for the second night running . these are strange times . even here there is a sense of foreboding .

: cH

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