ICE SCULPTURE

CAVE

day two and we quickly run into an engineering problem
the overnight frost has turned the texture of the snow from sticky to crumbly
swiftly the woodle improvises a solution
she fills a mould with snow then disappears inside
to fetch a large bowl of water to pour on top
i am full of admiration
the water diluted show is even stickier than before
slowly we add more layers to our structure
we specialise in our chosen roles
woodle is the blockmeister
fashioning ice blocks out of snow and water
i am the ice sculptor
stacking new blocks ever higher and filling in the cracks
our snow house is becoming so tall that it now resembles less an igloo
and more one of those patio chimineas
as woodle's energies diminish
i dig deep and drive the operation on
demanding the last couple of blocks that will crown the roof
finally all is complete and we collapse exhausted inside
we have built ourselves a snug snow cave

GIRL IN THE FOUNTAIN (SONG VIDEO)

GOING ROUND IN CIRCLES

the first layer is the toughest
it takes ten and a half large blocks to complete the circumference
but each succeeding layer becomes easier as we slope inwards
the snow is perfect
plentiful and sticky and easily compactible into strong blocks
we take turns making and stacking blocks and filling in the gaps with mortar
totally engrossed in our work and proud of our achievements
as the light gradually fades
windows prove something of a challenge
we are over ambitious and the first lintel we construct collapses
we hit on a taller narrower design organically fashioned into a graceful arch
it occurs to me what an ideal building material snow is
for children to learn about construction and engineering
it is safe and mouldable and remouldable
it teaches the principles of compression and loadbearing
spanning and vaulting
even cantilevers can be built in
as night falls we are five or six courses up - about four feet
more snow forecast tonight
tomorrow a roof!

HOPELESS ROMANTIC (SONG VIDEO)

BEWARE THE IDES OF MARCH

the ides are come...
but not yet gone
it is around two o'clock in the afternoon
and i am starting to feel more than a little rough
my late lunch of carrot and coriander soup is producing mysterious hot flushes
outside i shiver in the chilly march air
by the time i arrive home from the factory
i am feeling weak and disorientated
by eight i am tucked up in bed
the night is full of strange nightmares
churning repetitive dissonant thoughts
then some time in the wee small hours come the runs
and the bottom quite literally falls out of my world
i am battered by waves of nausea
going to lie down again fends them away
but further dashes to the bathroom ensue
as my system flushes itself clean
beware the ides of march

GIRL IN THE FOUNTAIN

She stands so tall with her head in the air
The girl in the fountain
She dances in the spray without any care
The girl in the fountain

She waits by the gates of the factory
I count down the hours till I'm going to be free
She waits for me
The girl in the fountain

She makes an immaculate study in bronze
The girl in the fountain
She breaks herself free of coventional bonds
The girl in the fountain

She teases all the boys with her airs and graces
She stands unmoved by their amorous gazes
She amazes
The girl in the fountain

Throw her a coin
Make her happy
Close your eyes
Make a wish
Time to wake up and smell the chocolate
Such an innocent pleasure

She stands so tall with her head in the air
The girl in the fountain
She dances in the spray without any care
The girl in the fountain

She waits by the gates of the factory
I count down the hours till I'm going to be free
She waits for me
The girl in the fountain

NOWNESS

tugging at the bonds and chains
of the past and the future
searching for the NOW
getting in touch
making contact
admiring the silhouettes of winter trees
the subtle control of birds in flight
the shifting shadows that hide from the low-angled sunlight
detecting the breath of wind upon my cheek
the blood pumping in my veins
the muscles straining in my body
the emotions swelling in my heart
the thoughts flowing through my febrile cerebral cortex