missing the bus

“It’s some thing connected to meaning. An oblique waking up. Or a guilty secret. An automatic self disgust.  There are whole sets of impulses that have pushed me. Chemically induced ones. Natural body exuberances and later self-inflicted.  I just can’t capture anything about this in words. It’s about meaning. A really joyful sitting with, walking […]

pushy puritans

I was at a Church of England service today. Two services in fact, the first a “traditional” service culminating in communion, the second a “family” service. Both had a sermon at their heart. The readings for the day upon which the sermons reflected were taken from Isaiah 40, 1-11 and from Mark 1, 1-8. The […]