try to take a balanced view of life
for the sake of my health and equanimity.
A documentary film about
Phillipe Petit, who high wired
between New York Twin Towers
on 7th August 1974
taught me that sickening fear,
rather than external physical danger,
is the greater killer.
Spent a day trying to understand why printer won’t talk to laptop – why laptop won’t even look at printer.
Spent a day delving into computer registers, enabling and disabling policies, downloading drivers.
Spent a day digging deep, persevering, threatening and cajoling.
That was yesterday. Today I am spending with my beautiful son – just loving.
A middling man dances with a deckchair on the uneven beach; his neck burned ruddy by the kisses of the sun. Striped seat tacking, wood frame click-clacking, he perseveres nevertheless, and folds himself into the seat in time to watch his ex-lover leave for new horizons. As she shimmers her feisty goodbyes, an impish sea breeze rises to pick a tune on the string drawn tight between day and night, and steals the hat from the middling man’s head. The middling man throws up his arms to catch the hat, and the chair tips, toppling him. He stays there a while, curled on the beach, salt tears blotted by the still warm sand.
so difficult to achieve
so easily lost.