Friday, July 31, 2009
Dearest M.L Darling,
What day is it? I am awash in sensory input. The heightened sense of experience that some travellers get when the sensation of days stretch out and become as if weeks. Experiential time dilation kicks in and your head is spinning and you are left wondering when it was that you stepped out of the airplane and into this stream...this current that has ripped you along in so much broiling froth and light - a rub-a-dub dub. And sound-n-sounds and people from worldwide and imagining no countries. So much water having swept under the proverbial and now I turn to you in full flow and ask...in all sincerity...how long has it been? What day is it today?
Oyes...of course now that I actually pause to write this large upon the screen sat in Phnom Penh netcafe it gives me a small-space to remember it's only been 3 days. Mad Plumber will definitely remember this phenomenon from our last Thai expedition. Experience so dense that the normal sense of linear time bows out so that you cant remember anything but a head full of blessed experience... Stand up, fall down...a moment on your knees - And give thanks that you can experience the luxury of such travel. For I know that we are blessed just as Mad Plumber and I knew we were blessed in Thailand. Just as I'm sure that everyone who has been mad-awake in travel has taken a moment to reflect... Filled their lungs and pushed out on an eddy...into a small and gentle bay to take brief pause...long enough to catch up with oneself a moment. Bundle into a netcafe and share and give and write thanks. Love to you all and to all of you who have in some way helped me or encouraged me to persist and press on...to go and go and go...
I soldiertostandupsoldiertostandupsoldier - For this I thank you, for in its way it has helped me to here...Blessed.
You know who you are.
"Savendi at large" As titled by Mad Plumber, First appeared on the creative arts website Fabulist Savannah
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Monday, July 20, 2009
Chrome balustrade. Yellow starred red flag flapping in the wind. Cao Lau stall on Tran Cao Van. Scooters and bicycles. People wearing surgeon face masks. Fruit stall on crazy little intersection with no stop sign or lights or stop and go paraphernalia...no lines no lights just go and go and go. Huge dinosaur eggs some dark like rotten, guess there's gonna be some streetfood I'm never gonna try. Coconut palms on the near distance. Sea breeze is in and blowing. Cyclo cycles through. Swat and H20 tees. Great big dirty green tents. trad garb...old school new school and no school. Shirtless man in thongs with a necklace and jade pendant. My back aches. Wires and dark stained walls built out of mould. Painted mould. papadum snack bigger than the kids head. Strange sweet savoury mix we find so alien and common here. Hoi An coolsie kid on black rimmed peddler. Ochre paint jobs. Old lady with walking stick and hunched up back...moving pretty well though. I haven't see them smile much the old ones. Bright red mod scooter. Tourists on $1bicycles. Kids eating noodle soup and cao lau with fast moving chopsticks just off the road corner stall of red plastic chairs and tables all low down like a kids tea party set. Ice buckets, steaming buckets and a paint bucket someone left on the roof above them. Mint leaves and some salads i cant discern from here. I discover Macbook's photobooth...we stare at each other and I shoot ten photos of myself in black and white.
* 'Hoi An Balcony View' first appeared on the creative arts website Fabulist Savannah
Listening to: Bowie - Aladdin sane
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
I had this dream last night. AC and I were standing just outside of a doorway that led into a grand internal courtyard. Let me describe it further by saying: imagine an enormous Elizabethan style mansion, almost a small castle or a keep and tall with at least 3 stories. The mansion was so sprawling that it had vast internal courtyards contained within the building. Open to the sky, but flanked on all sides by the high stone walls of the mansion. AC and I were stood on the edge of this internal courtyard, next to a door we had just stepped out of. I didn’t see this, in the dream sense of “seeing”, but I sensed it. Evidently the storyline was already well underway, when my brain decided to start recording it to the forward memory that I now relay. I sensed the back-story within the dream, much as I sense now the atmosphere of what had transpired just previous to my sudden jaunt into dream consciousness (dig?). It was night and a dark one at that. We had been exploring the grand old building. It wasn’t a ruin, it was very much in use as if it were lived in by some rich family or up- kept by some historical committee or better yet as if we were back in time…in the mansions prime…suffice to say the place was alive with it’s own presence…and that works nicely leading into this next insight, which is that AC and I were pursuing a ghost or ghosts. We knew something or some things supernatural were active in this enormous building. The hair on our arms and necks stood on end. Something very old and powerful was there. We were scared, but elated. Driven by a desire to confront and maybe understand… a desire that overcame the feelings of fear…that malingering unnameable terror that welled up within us as we moved through the sprawling dimly lit mansion. Apparently we had been in somewhat of a chase. Who was chasing who I cannot say (I wasn’t there (winks aside) but action was afoot. In that moment we enter the dream AC and I were taking a breather…a moment or two…we were discussing what had been transpiring, there was a sense of brevity between us…wry smiles and quiet chuckling. We were being humorous, but our skin was bespeckled by goose bumps and the radiant atmosphere had us rubbing our hands together, shifting feet to-and-fro and shivering… although not from any cold. We had found something…a spirit or a ghost and its very existence filled the dreamscape to the point of overflowing. Elements of its energy seemed to spill into the real world. It’s corny to say, but it was as if we knew we were in a dream, but more still…it was as if we were in its dream. In unison we both looked up at one of the narrow windows high up on the wall that overlooked the courtyard. The window was open. It had only just opened and a dark slip of curtain fluttered out from within. No one could be seen in the window but we knew it was the Presence. Maybe out of fear, I don’t know why, I started to crack the wise. I heard myself say something loudly like “yeah yeah very dramatic, very spooky…just what we expected” AC joined in. We were stirring it up…giving that supernatural force a rev up...letting it know that the Diggers weren’t afraid. Something spoke up, spoke back to us. It was something unnatural. In our heads or out loud…maybe both at once… It said “Third floor NOW!” We charged back inside, off to confront this thing. Round a corner and down a wide ornately laid out corridor we ran. The atmosphere was charged with preternatural energy. I noticed a large tapestry hanging on the wall. The tapestry bowed outwards as if someone or something was crudely hiding behind it…I could see the floor beneath the tapestry and there were no feet to be seen. AC yelped as he’d seen the same thing I had. I was terrified but I pushed behind the tapestry. In that split second I let out a terrible noise like a low mournful howl, immediately followed by another a second later. It sounded a mix of exhilaration, suspense, tension and fear. It was not a pleasant sound, and I know this because it woke me up in bed. In that last millisecond within the dream I found there was nothing supernatural behind the tapestry, only an ill placed game hunters mounting. But the noise of my howl was a collision of dream and reality. It was almost as if the mansion had kicked me out of the dreamscape. AC and I had been charging into the unknown…headed for some stairs up to the third floor, summoned, challenged by some unspeakable unknown force. The shrill terror of it all…the terror was a power surge that overloaded the dreamscape…shorted out the link and left me sitting up in my bed. It was about 1am…pretty early for an intense dream in my experience. I thought of how AC had got on…did he charge onwards to the third floor? Did I disappear in front of him? Whose dream was that anyway? In the dark of my room the heavy shroud of the dream still hung heavy, refused to let go to reality…I determined to go back in. I was still groggy. I lay back down and tried to re-enter the mansion. I still felt the force of the Presence…palpable as if it really had spilled out into the room with me. There was something major and unresolved still moving me, pumping through my adrenalised heart like a possession. I lay down and before I blacked out again there was a fleeting moment of reflection, like my own third person narrator saying…this doesn’t look right…is not the same place…or is it? Then the darkness and the forgetting.
*Special love goes out to: M.L Darling, Petri Ivalo Sinda and the Mad Plumber of Fabulist Savannah, where this piece first appeared in 2008.
Listening to: Pnau