To love a Scottish lass

To My McLove – in a poem, a picture and a piece x

In a poem…

She used to like Scotties
But now she loves Pugs
What does that say of her journey?

From pugnacious aye-right
To soft scottish sky-bright
Unfolding from surly to girlie

A Picture…

And a “piece”, (click to play)

Blue Angel

The Calculus of Love

Loss, Cry, Redemption

The sensation of loss is the consequence of boundary and separation – the disintegration from the beginning which we all struggle in our own way to heal.

But.. another word for disintegration (at least in Maths) is differentiation. The very boundary that signals loss enables an integration. The one that is created from the re-combination of two is infinitely larger than the original one that is single.

Loss is poignant; sometimes almost more sweet than bitter. This is because it resonates with its antithesis. Connection. Loss and Connection – in other words the sensation of differentiation and integration. Together these create the harmonics of life. It is not that you can’t have one without the other – it is that one IS the other.


Conjugating Feminism




We comprise  dynamic balance. Yin, Yang – or Jung’s concept of Anima and Animus.

Animus ..  the male aspect of the female psyche, as the Anima is the female aspect of male psyche”

I like the concept of conjugation in relation to establishing this balance, as in Buber’s  “I & Thou” – moving onward to an existential “We”.

Perhaps then,  Animo, Animas.. Animamus. (Anim-am-us).

Feminism is a conjugating force  rebalancing centuries of dominance of male. The work though is inside each of us, balancing our Anima and Animus to release our true self. Can someone tell Donald Trump & Daish.

[And yes the attached sound-thought-expressions (I don’t want to call them music) owe something both to Bach’s Siciliano transcribed by Wilhelm Kempf]

Lizzie’s Lament

This is for you Elizabeth. Happy Birthday. I hope you appreciate the irony. (Your’e neither a Lizzie, nor Lamentable. You should never have made such a fuss about use of your proper name – Bet’y !)

Piano’s out of tune, but then – after all these years so am I…

He who made the M my dear, He made the timely C

He equated it to thee my dear, to shape our lovely E

Perfected in your Mass my dear, your vibrant energy 

You lighten life for all my dear, and surely so for me

G and A and U my dear, A and G and thee

spells your crystal age my dear, a diamond jubilee


Gervase x

Bittersweet studies

Midway upon the journey of our life



I found myself within a forest dark

For the straightforward pathway had been lost

Ah me! how hard a thing it is to say

What was this forest savage, rough and stern,

Which in the very thought renews the fear.

So bitter is it, death is little more