Journal Entries
The Fountain Pen (is not extinct!)
Posted May 24, 2012
I saw this BBC news article a couple of days ago, which suggested that the fountain pen is making a comeback. Sales have increased this year, it seems, and email and the ballpoint pen haven't put the old inky fountain pen out of business after all!
This is very pleasing news to me. I use a fountain pen.
I love the sound it makes as it glides over the paper, the flow of the ink, all crow black inky black.
I love the the way that the wet inky words shine for a couple of seconds, before they dry.
I love the way that the ink always gets on my fingers, and sometimes it soaks right through the paper, so that I can read my text, backwards, from the other side.
I love the smudges. And the way that my signature looks good, like I'm someone famous. 
.
Ah lovely fountain pens. I love my fountain pen.
I hope that blotting paper returns, also. What about blotting paper then?
Pink blotting paper. And green. Was it pink and green? I remember it from school, I'm sure I do. .
And those posh writing pads that have a sheet of blotting paper at the front. I love them.
And when you blot the words, interesting inky shapes appear all over aforementioned .. erm .. blotting paper.
Oh yessy yes yes yes I do like many things, especially fountain pens. Did I mention that I also like blotting paper?
Discuss this Journal entry [26]
Latest reply: May 24, 2012
Bug Eyed Biro Doodle
Posted May 18, 2012
Good Morning Earth. 
This morning I opened the front door and this tiny white moth (a real one) was fluttering around in front of me, then it landed in the neighbour's shrubbery. This means everything, yet strangely nothing.
I am listening to Jethro Tull (especially a track from Heavy Horses, called Moths).
I am also listening to Van Der Graaff Generator, I am in love with VDGG, which might lose me friends, yet perhaps I will be understood in the kingdom of moths. .
I wrote some Notes entitled Bug Eyed Biro Doodle.,
Recently, I met a friend in town, who I used to live with the 80s. There were a group of us around that time, all doing weird drawings and things. We used to trade drawings, even do joint works. Kinda inspiring, mostly it was just therapy, except for a few who made it in the professional art world. I didn't make it. . Never wanted to. However, my friend said she held onto one of my scrawly biro drawings, kept her going through some dark times. I was like 
??? I can't imagine one of my biro drawings giving anyone any sort of hope. . I would have thought it would make the problem worse. . You never know, eh.
Erm, so I will write the Notes in the next posting, if I can navigate this funny format. Looks cool though. Funny how the graphic landscapes of hootoo can change, if you leave for a week or so. I love it.
The names, circumstances and the drawing itself are fiction, but the feathery antennae are pure fact. . Its a celebration of the sharing of ideas. And a celebration of black biros. I love black biros. Still one of the cheapest products on the market, and yet you get such a great quality line.
Discuss this Journal entry [58]
Latest reply: May 18, 2012
Writing to the Muse
Posted Apr 26, 2012
Well, in the spirit of things, I said to myself just start at the beginning, by writing to the Muse. Making a pattern from the things we have been talking about.
Inspired I am. The medicine of poetry. And thanks. And not a moth in sight. Just starlings.
This piece contains a few images that might be a bit dark for some ....
The Words Behind the Music (Writing to the Muse)
I feel you so near when I stand on this beach, listening to the wingflutter whirr of starlings, hundreds of starlings! an animated cloud of birds swooping and swirling over the sea, then disappearing into the liquid crimson sunset, all silhouette and filmic.
And sometimes these sunsets make me cry, and you ask me why, and I say that the colour red rhymes with dead in my fevered head, and before I know it the beach is strewn with the corpses from my fractured nightmare.
I swear that you hear when I break apart, calling to you through the flickering smoky siren whine, when I am ablaze with a yearning, a burning homesick ache for that place of peace beyond peace.
I know you know this place, I can almost remember your face, as if we have been there together so many times before, and your touch is a cure, beyond desire and the absurdity of words.
And yet, when you are near, words whirr through me like a flock of starlings, hundreds of words! as if you are my poem. And I laugh at such a fancy, and flirt with the dandy rhythms and rhymes in my fevered head, just so I can dance with you, my muse, my poet-angel.
I could swear that you are here tonight, as I stand on this sunset beach, watching in awe as clouds of birds and silhouette words swoop and swirl over the sea in the crimson liquid light, all filmic and poetic and atmospheric.
End
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Latest reply: Apr 26, 2012
Into the Unknown
Posted Apr 21, 2012
Dear hootoo otherworld journal journey place of being and seeing
Just print out a 
mammoth smiley here to make me laugh, just because I am about to write about intense thngs.
Maybe a cheesecake 
to ensure maximum psychic protection.
OK, serious bit.
Following the very recent deaths of both my parents in the space of a year, my psyche is a bit stretched and bruised and wounded and hopeful and questing, tested, yet hopefully rested.
Sometimes what happens after people die in the family, is that all the various relations left behind have to adapt to the changing pattern of the family, and work out their relationship to each other, and there can be a period of chaos before calm.
And there is so much business to do, but also the times are emotional, so the mix gets further chaotic.
This seems to be a familiar picture.
So, I have been going through one of these times. Being of shy nature, I'm not one to present too many personal details of such matters. Being of an artistic nature I will tend to work cryptically, somewhat obliquely, , through images and things.
However, what I want to share is this.
Actually, wait a minute, I am going to change postings.
Discuss this Journal entry [37]
Latest reply: Apr 21, 2012
DreamStream
Posted Nov 13, 2011
Dear Journal,
I think I am in love with you, 
,and therefore I wish to communicate with you on levels both deep and not so deep, like shallow.
That's not the best start, ,considering, this week, I am musing upon the subject of communication. I am hoping that this might lead me to the AWW or something. I can feel ideas crystallizing. Just checking out my crystals here, though.
Communication
In the 80s, there was this idea going around that the left side of the brain is to do with logic and language and reason and analysis and order and science and rational thinking etc and the right side of the brain was more about the non linear approach, the creative side, the emotional side, often associated with artists and dreamers and seers and such like.
Although I always wanted to be a right brained artist. A logical artist. Like learn maths and science and things. See the pattern of universe through numbers perhaps.
And then it was cool to be balanced. Good left brain, right brain balance, that was the way to health, if not wealth. .
I'm not sure about the left brain, right brain theory, but I am still into balance. Nothing like a bit of balance, that's what I reckon, when walking the tightrope of life. The what? .
So, with communication, be it through straight practical talking, or flaky spiral word paintings, I find that ...
....I find that I have to go eat lunch. Hey, guess what, journal, I've hardly started yet, so I will be back.
Discuss this Journal entry [99]
Latest reply: Nov 13, 2011
cactuscafe
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