Many thanks
L
On Wed, November 16, 2011 21:48, Stephen Vincent wrote:
> Agree with Sheila, and no doubt other notes yet unread, this is really
> good - a wonderful, bouncy tangibility combined with lines that propulse
> along on their own engines (it seems). No doubt few words that will hone
> out or alter with more attention. But this ship is well built and thank
> you!
>
> Stephen Vincent
>
>
> --- On Wed, 11/16/11, Sheila Murphy <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
>
>
> From: Sheila Murphy <[log in to unmask]>
> Subject: Re: St Ives Harbour from Barnoon
> To: [log in to unmask]
> Date: Wednesday, November 16, 2011, 10:40 AM
>
>
> This is sterling, Lawrence. Extremely compelling on multiple levels, not
> the least of which is the way that you draw forth one sense by way of
> another. Visual and tactile join beautifully, for example. I feel the
> movement take pinpoint and waved effort. Very fine, indeed.
>
> Sheila
>
>
> On Wed, Nov 16, 2011 at 6:35 AM, Lawrence Upton <[log in to unmask]>
> wrote:
>
>
>> White islands glide over battered granite hills;
>> and, near sky, top floors, empty, unfinished, without balustrades,
>> architecturally complex. Show-through and mirrorings of light splashed
>> on to the soft blue of the atmosphere, setting off dark blues of harbour
>> and bay.
>>
>> Water’s high. It’s after five, boats returning,
>> all predominantly white; and white seagulls, apparently wandering,
>> butterflies.
>> Black back
>> on the roof of Salubrious House… the pine glossy in our garden.
>> Two herring gulls floating
>> on the water of the bay. Three gulls now. A single boat, two people in
>> it, south-east of Smeaton’s lighthouse, going north, only now becoming
>> visible, but fully seen in the room’s mirror. A single boat goes
>> south, perhaps to round the pier into harbour, in both window and
>> glass; in the mirror; and my memory. More gulls butterflying.
>>
>> Wind makes
>> the palm shudder. Boats drift at their tethers. Tourists walk past in the
>> picture’s lower half – I know they’re there -- looking with
>> envious anger at the houses. A half a million pounds’. More than the
>> loss of all one’s limbs and eyes. More than a death.
>> A boat is gleaned
>> into the mirror’s picture, oared, northerly towards a marker buoy; a
>> small boat, but this one’s under power, overhauls it -- it seems some
>> pleasantries exchange – and then departs into the bay’s core and the
>> further ocean, though, at that size, it’ll stay close by land. A larger
>> boat, masted, wooden cabin, comes in from the direction of Godrevy. A
>> tiny outboard seems to pull aside; and the fat boat is only in the
>> mirror, a speedboat following it, but also only in the mirror.
>> As water enters the first
>> of Smeaton’s arches, almost filled by sea-pushed sand, many tourist
>> boats come out, kayaks and pedalos and larger craft, in an unheard buzz,
>> the stinging insects of evening, a lugger, out from the harbour and round
>> the pier then north, smoothly, rapidly, its hue the wide wings, with
>> satiate assurance, of a gull waddling dully on a house roof.
>>
>>
>>
>>
>> -----
>> UNFRAMED GRAPHICS by Lawrence Upton
>> 42 pages; A5 paperback; colour cover
>> Writers Forum 978 1 84254 277 4
>> wfuk.org.uk/blog ----
>>
>>
>
-----
UNFRAMED GRAPHICS by Lawrence Upton
42 pages; A5 paperback; colour cover
Writers Forum 978 1 84254 277 4
wfuk.org.uk/blog
----
|