From my poetry blog.
Taken in the early 1880’s, this is one of the earliest images of the East End of London.
I love the way the children appear insubstantial and ghost-like, which in effect they are. Lingering echoes of lives long lost, wandering along now vanished streets.
. . . my children in our local shopping centre. Take it away, kids!
Whose side do you think the crowd was on?
From my Poetry blog.
When In Rome I was talking to a Swiss girl, she told of a former classmate who plucked out all of her eyelashes, inflicting a vulnerability on her soul. I bartered with the tale of a girl who shaved off all of her eyebrows. I’d received the news when drinking beer by the Colosseum, that place where gladiators had impaled by trident and sword point. She had scalped herself with a Bic. (She met me at the airport, masked by a silk bandanna. I knew what she concealed. She knew that I knew.) Sometimes she would descend the stairs wrapped in a yellow sari dress: “Look at me, I’m a Punjabi girl!” Dancing around the room like some insubstantial sylph ©AndrewJamesMurray
A timely photo maybe, with today being Good Friday, but this isn’t a religious site-rather it’s the tomb of Nikos Kazantzakis, author of works such as Zorba The Greek and The Last Temptation. When we were in Crete in 2008 I travelled to Heraklion to seek it out. I have most of his books and I do like to make personal connections. Fortunately I have a very understanding wife.
Although deeply spiritual, his books often reflected his struggle to find truth in religion and spirituality. Many Orthodox Church clergy condemned Kazantzakis’ work and a campaign was started to excommunicate him. His reply was: “You gave me a curse, Holy fathers, I give you a blessing: may your conscience be as clear as mine and may you be as moral and religious as I”
The tomb is quite plain, made of stone marked with a wooden cross. The epitaph, taken from one of his works, reads:
‘I hope for nothing, I fear nothing, I am free’.