Perhaps,

Perhaps some day the sun will shine again,
And I shall see that still the skies are blue,
And feel once more I do not live in vain,
Although bereft of You.

Perhaps the golden meadows at my feet
Will make the sunny hours of spring seem gay,
And I shall find the white May-blossoms sweet,
Though You have passed away.

Perhaps the summer woods will shimmer bright,
And crimson roses once again be fair,
And autumn harvest fields a rich delight,
Although You are not there.

Perhaps some day I shall not shrink in pain
To see the passing of the dying year,
And listen to Christmas songs again,
Although You cannot hear.

But though kind Time may many joys renew,
There is one greatest joy I shall not know
Again, because my heart for loss of You
Was broken, long ago.

-Vera Brittain

 

 

 

It’s spring again

Every year we have lived here, a pair of Starlings have chosen to have their family in a small area behind a guttering in a tiny hole in our eaves - a pair of them work very hard every year, they bring items for the nest and food once the young are born.
 

 The problem is, every year the young are fed and fed to their limit as parents in the animal kingdom have a habit of doing - fatten the young before the big wide world devours them.

Then the problem is the young become too big to be able to fit out of the hole to fly and eventually they perish. The parents abandon them when the noises stop.

Flight would have made them lean and made them themselves new parents ready for the next spring.

Every year I think about opening that hole up (or closing it completely) to let them out or to stop the next parents making the same mistake.

I wander the malls sometimes and think about the starlings - J. M. H

Rats will race

Music: 'Habanera' by Bizet
            'Morning Mood' by Edvard Grieg

More from Steve Cutts here

The World Is Too Much With Us

The world is too much with us; late and soon,

Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;—

Little we see in Nature that is ours;

We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!

This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;

The winds that will be howling at all hours,

And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;

For this, for everything, we are out of tune;

It moves us not. Great God! I’d rather be

A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;

So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,

Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;

Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;

Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn.

- William Wordsworth

Pharmaecopia - Mudvayne

Does your god come in a capsule,
To sedate you tear the walls down,
Headless prison cannibals chew,
to consume you bring the alien,

Halcium and morphine,
5-methoxy-n, n-dimethyltryptamine,
Psilocybin, mescaline, aspirin, histomine,
Brushite, darvaset, Valium, caffeine, cannabis, and LSD,
Ayahuasca, harmine give it all to me I want it

These are just a few of my favorite things [X 2]

Trisolam and zanex, serotonin, mdma, ibogaine, dopeamine,
Tetra-hydro-chloride, atenolol,
Amanita muscaria,
Boric oxide, arrabinitol, psilocin, and flamizine,
Cylotec and harmaline
Give it all to me I want it

 

 

Sinner - Damien Hirst

 Does your god come in a capsule to sedate you,
Tear the walls down, headless prison,
Cannibals chew to consume you,
Bring the alien

You can't kill me,
I'm already dead
Inside my hole,
Inside my head,
We just beg for any way to be sedated,
It's all about escaping,
Numb to me,
Numb body from this hell,

I can feel them pushing, I can feel them pulling
I can feel them holding, I can feel them moving,
I can feel them prying, I can feel them prodding,
I can feel them breathing, I can feel them digging
I can feel them stabbing, I can feel them scoping,
I can feel them living, I can feel this,
Consume, take in, plunging, plumbing,
Instruments prying, aliens inside me,
Tooling the machine,
Intoxicating,
Feel it unfolding, riddles in me

It's all about escaping, we just beg for any way to get away
Who do you bow down to, does your god come in a capsule or on a
plate
They're trying to sedate you, swallow self and bring on the alien
You tried to kill me, I'm already dead to this world
I'm already dead to this world

Mudvayne L.D. 50

La plus belle des ruses du diable est de vous persuader qu'il n'existe pas. ― Charles Baudelaire

My little side project The Museum of Cryptozoology and Occult Science is excited to be included in the up-coming "Bump in the Night" Exhibition at The Old Auction House in Kyneton over the Halloween period. We have some exciting new projects for the show, the first of which the Dybbuk box was finished up this week. More details about this will be popping up on the MOCAOS blog soon but for now and until the show, please enjoy a small preview 

Dybbuk box courtesy of MOCAOS

Dybbuk box courtesy of MOCAOS

Dybbuk box courtesy of MOCAOS

Dybbuk box courtesy of MOCAOS

Dybbuk box courtesy of MOCAOS

Dybbuk box courtesy of MOCAOS

More from MOCAOS here.

I like it when somebody gets excited about something. It's nice.

I watched the 2013 documentary Salinger this morning. 2am is never a good time to start with such a venture but it is the nature of being lost and nothing is more comfortable for the lost than the lost. My lady brought me Catcher in the Rye during a trip to London not long after we got together, and I’ve treasured it ever since for that reason. You wouldn’t believe how many miles that copy has travelled, I’ve taken it with me everywhere. I’ve enjoyed the story many times, but I was distracted most of my first reading wondering why everyone was originally so upset about this book? Caulfield seemed a little weak and angry but also just lonely. Like a 2am doco I suppose. I never really figured that out but if you haven’t seen it and liked any of Salinger’s work, I would recommend it. It’s a tough watch at times and to be honest, I finished it not liking him very much, but it was nice to see him sitting in the car smiling at the end. I don’t know if that smile was peace or amusement, but I must hope even the loneliest of us find some sort of peace eventually.

I think that if you maintain more questions than opinions in life, you’ll probably do OK so in that regard, why do so many creatives wander so far from humanity. I understand chasing the work and I completely understand chasing the craft. The work so often feeds the work to the point where you really don’t need much else to produce but once you're there, what is the point? Is the work a distraction during life? Is it a habit? Fuck me, that sounds like smoking, not creativity. Anyway, if you are tasked in any way to finding perfection in your work then I wholly recommend this film. So...Fuck you Mr Salinger, I hope you’re doing OK man, wherever you are…

Eirik Arnesen

From Eirik Arnesen.com - Eirik Arnesen (b. 1990), from Oslo, received his education in the figurative arts at The Florence Academy of Art in Florence Italy, where he studied sculpture under Robert Bodem.

King of the Rusted Crown

 His focus is on the human body and the goal is to produce carefully thought out works with solid construction and organic naturalism in order to create a convincing image of the human body in accordance with the realist tradition. 

Under the Weeping Moon

"At the moment, I strive to include several priorities in my work, first and foremost accurate observation of the subject in pursuit of work that contain some of the gravity and physicality found in the natural world."

The Dereliction of Self

 I am enamored with Arnesen's work. Through his youtube videos I have discovered a new ambition for the traditional sculptural style and absolutely lost count of the things I've learnt. Arnesen also has a patreon page for those of you over there where patrons are able to receive tutorage and advice.

More from Eirik Arnesen here.