Friday, February 24, 2006

newsy bits n pieces

hey folks

have been feeling decidely run down past few days. my system seems to be holding its hands up and saying "slow down and start looking after yourself!"

so, with that in mind i finally came to a decision that had been looming for a while. i am taking a step back, or down, or out, from active service in ikon for the time being.
i will still be part of the crowd but am giving myself permission to not be involved in any decision making for a while. there is a lot of uncertainty and change ahead in the coming months and ikon is undergoing a fair bit of transformation too, but more change is not what i need to have on my plate right now. so by letting go i'm letting in my own mind the crowd shift and evolve as it wants without me having any responsibilty to shape what that might look like. i love the crowd enough that it can be what it wants to be without me feeling like i have to influence it. and right now i don't know what i would want to suggest.

so with that self-imposed weight off my shoulders i am now engaging in the sale of Rivendell. i have vague ideas of what i want to move to, but i also need to get my work situation sorted. any one of these would be a big deal. all three is a lot to contend with. so i am trying to deal with each one in as calm a manner as possible and avoid overwhelmedness if i can. getting a home and job i feel good about and that make economic sense will be easier said than done. but i am not without support as i always need to remind myself. and in past couple of days i have received some amazing reminders from several dear friends in phone calls, texts, emails, conversations and practical offers of help.

big news i totally forgot to communicate, my brother arrives on 4th March. i still can't quite believe it. he'll only be in town for a few days but it'll be amazing to get an injection of his spirit into my life.

::where is rowan morrison?::

saturday's guardian is apparantly going to be accompanied by a free copy of "the wicker man". no self respecting film lover should be witohut this one.
i haven't had the guts to watch my own copy by myself yet, despite having seen it several times before. it's an amazing(ly) freaky film and as a religious story, very powerful. i have often thought if you wanted to scare someone to believe in the salvific Christ then this might just be the way to do it. it is impossible to accurately describe why this is such a creepy movie. it's not got any monsters, no blood and gore, no ghosts, no axe wielding murderers and nearly all the action happens in daylight. there's lots of singing and dancing and smiling faces.
if anyone is up for a viewing sometime then please let me know. be prepared to discover your hysterical giggle. this is an extremely clever and well made film and deserving of its cult status. i understand an american remake is in post production with nicholas cage in the role of the "sheriff" and ellen burstyn as "lady summerisle". do not see the remake before seeing the original. once seen, never forgotten. a masterpiece in british film and an extremely intelligent exploration of religious belief. i promise if you ever want to watch it that it will swiftly followed by the extras which include lots of interviews so you can be reminded that this was just a story and the actors were only playing dress up...

::A-choc-a-lypse Now::
my caffeine creation launches today as the common grounds coffee of the week. i have just been informed that the board is decorated with helicopter and palm trees. cooooool. colour me a little chuffed.

right. off to buy wool.

have a good weekend.

LB, x

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

on this day

in 1848 marx and engels published the communist manifesto. 158 years later Loserbaby gets around to blogging again... i'm struggling with ambiguities and uncertainties of various shades at the moment, but let's pretend i'm in control and evade dealing with realness until another day...

first up, rainbow dreams, in repsonse to your comment, it's B-U-E-C-H-N-E-R. my error no doubt in switiching the U n E... i do it frequently...being true to its germanic roots it is pronounced BEEK-ner, i instinctively want to put the E first... go enjoy... i'm trying to only read one new thing of his a year so he'll last me a long time yet... the temptation to order his entire body of work with a single one click order at amazon is a challenge...

second, i know knitting. i have made 3 scarves in the past week. more have been commissioned. thanks to jayne helping me get started...

Several months back i created a custom caffeine hit. i've searched and searched and it appears to be unique. it's not a mochoccino, nor is it a mocha... so in the past few days i've named it. today, my friend stephen, who's the barrista at common grounds cafe who made the first ever one of these for me greeted me as "Kurtz!"...a legend has been birthed...

A naked hot chocolate shot through its creamy core with espresso to create a heart of darkness...i give you ::Achocalypse Now::

And so it seems quite fitting, that i should return to the office and play this.
..sums up my little fucked up world quite aptly...on this day anyway... first line is a link to video of the track...

cigarettes and chocolate milk
these are just a couple of my cravings
everything it seems i like's a little bit stronger
a little bit thicker
a little bit harmful for me

if i should buy jellybeans
have to eat them all in just one sitting
everything it seems i like's a little bit sweeter
a little bit fatter
a little bit harmful for me

and then there's those other things
which for several reasons we won't mention
everything about them is a little bit stranger
a little bit harder
a little bit deadly

it isn't very smart
tends to make one part so broken-hearted

sitting here remembering me
always been a shoe made for the city
go ahead, accuse me of just singing about places
with scrappy boys faces
have general run of the town
playing with prodigal songs
takes a lot of sentimental valiums
can't expect the world to be your raggedy andy
while running on empty
you little old doll with a frown

you got to keep in the game
maintaining mystique while facing forward
i suggest a reading of 'a lesson in tightropes'
or 'surfing your high hopes' or 'adios kansas'

it isn't very smart
tends to make one part so broken-hearted

still there's not a show on my back
holes or a friendly intervention
i'm just a little bit heiress, a little bit irish
a little bit tower of pisa whenever i see ya
so please be kind if i'm a mess
cigarettes and chocolate milk


rufus wainwright ::cigarettes and chocolate milk::

LB, x

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

the good life

after the drought, a deluge of here's numero quatro:

::a year of living generously::

i publicised this endeavour by writing an online article for zero28 a year ago. at the time it was in pilot phase with a limited group of folks. now the doors are open to anyone who'd like to sign up.

so, embracing my inner barbara goode, i just have.

i know some of you are taking an increased interest in adapting your living habits to suit your environmental and social ethics better...this project should be of real interest and help to you... go here for more info and apply to join...

LB, x

more truths from the journey

the book of exile continues...
by moyra blainey


a reading from the book of exile

chapter fifteen

a distant land beckons

no needle in the compass

silently we climb to risk it all

to fall

a reading from the book of exile

chapter sixteen

our cell of solitude …. deep within

suffocation instead of sanctuary

the silence screams

a reading from the book of exile

chapter eighteen

we want to skip this chapter

but tears bookmark the page

freeze the scene


turn the ragged pages

to find our place again

the story continues…

a reading from the book of exile

chapter seventeen

the landscapes changes

pink words are spoken by gentle voices



one holds the needle

one pulls the thread

one works the stitches

to patch the garment

….no longer dead

a reading from the book of exile

chapter eighteen

the leaves are still

wings of angels rustle

and the

darkness is filled

with birdsong

a reading from the book of exile

chapter nineteen

hope is born again


the one where...

morning all.

a big LB welcome to claire. up until 5pm yesterday claire was my line manager. today she is there no longer. from now on she will simply be known to me as "my friend claire".

from our desks for over a year we have viewed my life rather like an episode of ::Friends:: (only you'd be forgiven for thinking chris carter had got his hands on it)... in our daily watercooler moments, we have line by line dissected and ruminated over the unfolding storylines, the dialogue, character motivations, unexpected twists in the plot, reacted with eyes wide at the cliff hangers, laughed out loud and choked back tears from episode to episode. sitting opposite me, with only 3 feet between us, claire has got to know my face rather well. she has become adept at reading my facial expressions. without me needing to speak she has been my confessor: you can't bullshit someone when they can tell exactly when you're trying to hide your secrets, and she can read my secrets by the tone of my eyes and the shape of my mouth.

she's gonna drop by here to keep up to date. and then no doubt email me to find out what's really going on...

despite the baltic air (this was not the day to forget one's gloves but whaddya know - i done it) the sun is splitting the stones. i stood on the platform at the station waiting for a train which apparantly doesn't yet understand the meaning of the word timetable, and despite craving my iPod, nay, ANY iPod, and shaking from the cold, i gave myself a massive kick up the arse after last night's dark mood... if you can't fix it, you just gotta stand it...

or to put it another the absence of a script writer you just gotta roll with the punches...

right, there's work to be done...

LB, x

stutter shook and uptight


online access has been down for a few days...

that said, not gonna say much else for right now. feeling kinda low and dark and not in the mood for talking. articulation is a struggle. so i'm just gonna let it go for now.

i'm feeling a bit like Dolittle's Pushmepullyou.
one end is the false self, and the other the true.

beuchner has a beautiful line in telling the truth, "a chamber of the heart left open and waiting"... today i noticed mine appears to be fitted with one of those emergency exit doors. swings shut every time you open it. are we designed that way or did i make some alterations?

i'll be back in a while. don't worry - just trying to work some stuff through.


LB, x

Thursday, February 09, 2006

born again...

there's a big pile of work sitting here beside me so this is an uncharacteristic quickie...

i have just been delightfully and reliably informed that the snowdrops are up in botanic gardens, which means spring is on its way.

i hope that too you find at least one moment today where you are inspired and surprised to feel a glimpse of renewal and the kind of hope that comes from believing in possibility and healing rather than the despondancy or pessimism of assuming foregone conclusions.

right better get back to my cocktail of invoices, old skool iain archer and a 4 shot mochaccino...


Wednesday, February 08, 2006

and unfolding inch by inch

it's half past three in the morning and i've been sitting here for hours in the quiet reflecting on a profoundly humbling and emotional evening spent with an incredible group of people.

i think we might need to call it level six communication. so much confessed and shared - a real opening up of who we are... so much spilling forth. these people keep surprising and challenging me with their bravery to keep it real.

i'm not sure tuesday group is so much an attempt to be community as it is family. all so different and yet bonded by commitment to keep turning up each week and stumbling together with compassion.

our worlds are being shaken by our ignatian journey. solitude and silence are proving to expose our vulnerabilities, our fears, our darkness, our pain we didn't even know we had it's buried so deep...

and life keeps rolling forward... pushing us on... won't wait for us to catch up...
and so often that is overwhelming...
in the midst of grieving for what we confess to desire... this arrived from Lee in Pennsylvania... news that's well overdue and demanding celebration...finally this girl decided to join us. i am aware some of you regulars won't know these folks. judith hails from this corner of the world and lee from nashville. they are going to make awesome parents...because they are already awesome people doing significant living...

Dear friends:

She's fashionably late, but our new partner has joined us on the outside.
Alison Fiona Smithey was born this morning, February 7 at 8:30 a.m,
weighing in at a surprising 8 lbs. 13 oz. Alison and Judith did an amazing
job of making it all happen, and I am in awe of girl power. Judith and
Alison will remain in the hospital until Thursday morning.

We're looking forward to getting to know her (they don't seem to come with
bios, profiles, or cv's) and imagine you will too.

I believe there will be some pictures available pretty soon at

Lee and Judith (and Alison)


so welcome to the outside, little one... i have no doubt that, like your parents, you're gonna rock this planet for the better...i can't wait for the day i get to meet you in all your infinite possibility...

to my tuesday family...i love you. tonight was a privilege.

LB, x

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

taffy stuck and tongue tied

wrote this last night but blogger was suspended for maintenance...FWIW, here's wot i wrote...

it's now twenty past one in the morning. i can't honestly say i've had dinner, but i did eat... loads of toast with dulce de leche and a pot of tea being the main components. and i'm hosting tuesday group tomorrow night (poor daniel has chicken pox), and i looked out the ingredients for dinner, and that involved interaction with food. so that'll have to do. i don't need any extra energy when i'm still up at this hour and feeling alert.

no idea what happened to my evening. just seemed to disappear. hours feeling like ten minutes. so here i am. back at the kitchen table and still awake. not alert enough to try and articulate my current musings, and as it is i should be saving them for a piece on ::longing:: i'm preparing for the greenbelt website, which by pure coincidence is a big part of the next ikon monthly gathering is...but with tom waits crooning me into sleepiness and some hot chocolate i'll ramble til i feel the eyelids getting heavy...stay up with me if you can burn the midnight oil with me as long as you will...

i'm realising i consider inarticulation an enemy, as much as it is a frustrating signifier of the things i'm yet to make sense of... had a moment of extreme tongue tiedness this evening. i have these moments when i feel for all the world like the geekiest girl in the class...
you know the one...always walked along with her chin tucked down behind her armful of
folders and tried not to make eye contact with anyone and when she did attempt to hold her head up and look confident she was still part of the nerdy rejects and behind a typically frozen smile was terrified of being noticed...and if ever confronted with requiring actual interaction with her peer group, frequently found herself in 'i carried a watermelon' moments too excrutiating to recall or count...i wasn't the geekiest girl in the class... i reckon i was in a tie for third place...

i have said in many a conversation of recent times that i feel very much like i am 18 again...this time around i am surrounded by all these grown ups... i don't have a clue how to move in this adult world... i don't understand the rules... or the expectations... but to all the world it looks just like school corridors... but with mortgages instead of uniforms...

i see groups of girls who can't be a day over 18... always in threes it seems... identikit down to last detail...flawless...projecting an image that says seems designed to tell you they've never known a day's worry in their lives... and i shudder at every giggle...and i feel older than my years with the weight of life's experience... and i wonder if they have any idea what lies ahead... and at what point they'll get bored with impersonating perfection...

and then there are those moments when i feel like i'm 6...sometimes they are the darkest and most frightening...and yet also, the contrasting brightest...when i shrug off any attempt at cool and just climb the tree...

it was a good weekend. i'm grateful i can say that even though saturday was spent almost entirely in my own company (resulting in daily deliveries all this week from amazon (and yes a book on origami is in there)...i've been feeling lighter... thanks to all those who shared the past few days...

for conversation, for sharing your time, your fears, your passionss and favourite places, supplies of coffee beans, text messages from silent retreats, phone calls for no reason than to say hello and check in, for making yourself at home, for poetry, for welcomes worthy of Cheers and service with a hug, for knowing what makes me laugh and sharing the joke, comfortable silences, comments posted, for being interesting...

someone said the other day, we know a really fucked up group of people... i count myself as one them, and you know what, i wouldn't trade it for the world...

for every inarticulate stumble, we take a step in hopefulness...

so here's a treat i've been saving... chris has written a response to Padraig's poem.... you should know by now i wouldn't post it if i didn't love darn took my breath away...

sleep well. keep shining.


Another Reading from the Book of Exile

by Chris Fry

Chapter 7

This is not an exit…

Chapter 8

Everything here is backwards
This is not an excuse – but it is

Chapter 9

Irony is playing with playing
And so not really playing at all.
The game is on,
A fight even
But the sideline is crowded.

We ironists are just spectators
Saying nothing and then consuming that nothing with more words
Meta- detachment

Self satisfied
Starving to death

Chapter 10

A glimpse of joy
Did you see it?

The dolphin’s momentary graceful flight
The glory of the iris against the light
The tingle of desire
Sunsets bleeding
Hearts on fire
Winter cold receding

Don’t stop looking

Chapter 11

The narrow path hurts like hell
(Which, of course is ironic)

And conveyor belts are not conducive to conversation
Movement is their calling
So they push on
Delivering their victims to the jaws of heaven
There to suck on the eternal breast

So much for transformation
The future is just the past

Chapter 12

This book might have many authors
You will make us one for your canon

Chapter 13

Canons are instruments of war

Chapter 14

This one breath
Breathe it in – it is the truth

That you are alive
That God is love
And love is God
And radiance is not a piece of luck but a choice

You are shining


sleep well friends.


Monday, February 06, 2006

the second coming

it's half eleven and i still have to have some dinner. lots of stuff ready to splurge forth but i'll keep in jayne's good books and go eat something before writing.

in the meantime run, do not walk!, to jude's blog and check out her post Wholly Moly.

i'll see ya back here after you've reinserted your jawbone...

so VERY tempted to join one of the discussion boards... and for as genuinely worthwhile this site is, addressing some very serious issues for which they have my profound admiration, this is begging on all fours to be satarised. as jude notes, it's like we made it up.

get behind me Satan.

LB, x

Friday, February 03, 2006

folded and unfolded and unfolding

hey y'all

since i last wrote i have been mostly dealing with the tumult of a 'dark week of the soul' (st john of the cross: you had it easy man!).

after facing down the demon of aloneness last thursday and yet feeling so positive on friday and on into saturday that i'd got through it, i wasn't prepared for having to go through further nights where, with the number of demons coming to visit, i'd have been forgiven for thinking i was in an episode of Buffy.

saturday and sunday were both particularly hard and the aftershocks rippled on...

by wednesday night i felt i'd come to the edge of my capabilities when finding myself in another rapid descent into a sense of lostness that felt both bereft and bewildered, and overwhelmed by irrational fears of being despised and deserted for my weakness that frighten me to recall. i was not only selling myself short in those doubting moments.

emotional and physical exhaustion met with that joyous blessing of womanhood called PMT and so today i found myself unsurprisingly calling in sick, when i found my insides seemed to be trying to rip their way out and having to battle with powerful vertigo. not how one would prefer to wake up of a morning.

so having napped for a few hours, i'm sitting at the kitchen table and taking things in deliberate slow motion and listening to beautiful sarah's ::dreamlife of angels:: and relaxing as pain subsides and a clarity of being prodigally returning with each cup of sweet tea. i feel like i am coming back to myself, and even if feeling a little diffuse around the edges, i'm aiming for a spirit of welcoming.

but the rockiness of the past 7 days has not been without its good moments. there were many. music, movies, books, conversations, correspondances, poetry, embraces, smiles and simple texts of kind intent all cutting through the aloneness. and so i find myself with a memory from each day of frequently profound connection and inspiration and persistant support from those around me. and in the recognition i'm welcoming back a hopefulness that looks something like belief.

the Dr got the keys of his new home today and so last night we shared our nightly pot of tea and he read me a deeply touching poem he'd composed to mark his departure. but we embraced the end of sharing the same space with an intentional casualness. he'll be dropping in and out and so we made no big fuss. i think he knows well how much i hate goodbyes. so we made it au revoir.

if i have learnt anything these past few months, it is that one can deal with so much more than you expect when you are willing to open yourself to the possibility that those around you actually do care. and that awareness has to go hand in hand with your own caring of yourself and others.

it seems like standing on a stage by yourself being blinded by lights so strong you cannot see anything in the auditorium but being aware that in the wings are a whole troupe of folks willing you on. and and so if i have any courage it is in great part because of that chorus of support. one can only do this alone. but one is not alone at all...
and i can only hope to not forget that i in turn am part of the choruses that are willing on others around me. gareth and i watched ::topsy turvy:: last night, and gilbert's wife announces that wouldn't it be nice if ordinary people were appluaded at the end of each day.
i'm inclined to agree.

in the reminding i am as ever surprised and gratified. or indeed, gratitudinal, which i just prefer somehow.

i've more to share but please excuse me for the timebeing as i've taken to a notion to go learn origami...

life. love. god.
which of these is not like the other?

LB, x