NOTES

….would have been Peter Gilpin’s birthday: well, it still is. Thinking of you both this morning Gayle.

Spain, 2011

Finally done. Despite last minute (or early morning) blips and hold-ups) not medical, but bureaucratic and systemic) the surgeon did great work and demonstrated exactly why she’s held in such high regard. My thanks to her, to the two anaestheists and to the other theatre staff. I heard six different European languages used between nursing staff in the recovery ward. Home now I see the unusual sunlight of the past week has brought on my “Apache” Chilli. Val and I thank you for all the messages. I’ll try to get through the e-accumulation after the weekend perhaps.

A few moments ago Ken Lansdowne died. He was my oldest friend and, with his wife Pat, family forever. Born in Shoreditch, East London (well before it was polluted by “artists”) on Christmas day 1938; he died this morning in Deal, Kent. The stories are too many and, finally, nobody’s fucking business. This was the last time I saw Ken, he came to visit shortly before I went into hospital, almost two years ago. After that, neither of us could travel. A diamond. With Teddy yesterday, and Ken today, this June is working on being memorable.

Ken’s funeral. July 7th. 2016

…. our dear and old friend Ted Greenwald. Love and condolences to Joan and Abby.
The worst week for a long time. This is not the last time I saw Teddy; but it was the last time we sat across a table alone.
Read his books.

Poetry Foundation note

with Claude Royet-Journoud in Marseille

back in some day

thanks to Michèle Cohen

Just family stuff: photos and faster.

Just a few family photos.

This centenary weekend my mother has been popping into my mind making me wonder at those moments where she might have been, and doing precisely what, in Dublin that Easter in her fifteenth year. Here she is twenty years later. Not micro-expressions but micro-memories show me facets of all our children and grandchildren in those pixels. God rest her soul, as she would have said.

A week ago I should have been in Lana (Südtirol) to receive the N.C. Kaser-Lyrikpreis. My life is so changed within the past year that any travel more than the immediately local on foot with stick or by bus or car is impossible. Kindly, Tom Leonard spoke and read for me; and Ulf Stolterfoht read some of his German translations. Sadly I cannot yet put names to the faces of the local poets, musicians, artists (including Maria C. Hilber, Louis Schropp, Gerd Sulzenbacher, Matthias Vieider und Jörg Zemmler) who took part; but I thank them and Tom and Ulf for their generosity, and apologise for being unable to be with them.
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Tom Leonard and Ulf Stolterfoht.
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Big Brother

Thinking this morning of Lisa: and not forgetting Malcolm X half-a-century ago on the same day.

Lisa Nichole Raworth
January 17th. 1961 (London) – February 21st 1996 (Cambridge)

Austin, Texas, 1974
You’ld be proud of Cato, here he is at 26 with Matilda

Bognor Regis, December 2014

A few photographs from my birthday weekend.

I prefer cats to dogs and can’t understand anyone who’d follow an animal picking up its shit (even if it warms your hands in the winter); but there are exceptions to any general dislike and Rowan was one of those few (another was Macho, Pio Fontana’s dog, long dead in the TIcino mountains). He was a rescue dog, a greyhound beaten and mistreated because he refused to race. Our daughter-in-law saved him and for more than a decade I never heard him bark — though he did kill his one deer, a sick one of the herd, so he lived a hound’s life. To save him pain he had to be put down last weekend.

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A letter and enclosure from my friend Barry Hall, then living in the Masai Mara in Kenya. For those who can no longer read handwriting, I transcribe:

23 Nov 91

Dear Tom and Val,

Fucking Christmas again init! How are things? The enclosed picture is a cibachrome print from an Xray – Local Massai(sic) went on a cattle raid to Tanzania was shot in the head, walked over 300ks back in to Kenya to hospital to have the arrow removed. The opperation(sic) was a success he went home a week later – was a bit put out – terrified in fact; by the picture of his head.

Thought you would like a print.

Life’s much the same – few commercials – Fishing lots and painting I’m happy to say – Family’s fine –

Love to you and Val.

Barry + Beth

… added to previous link below

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I’m putting all the “Camera Test” shots into a set on Flickr here as I do them. Flowers, cattle, sheep, dead rat, dead shrew, black slug, small snail, birds, landscape etc.: so you don’t waste your time.

Paavo Anselm Aleksis Hollo
poet, translator, teacher and friend
Born Helsinki, Finland, 12 April 1934 – Died Boulder, Colorado USA, 29 January 2013

Obituaries: The Independent 3:AM Magazine Helsingin Sanomat
scan of Independent hard copy
Snippets from correspondence.

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Family stuff

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Family stuff. Brighton and Lewes

Eddie

George Edward Kimball
A fine writer, newspaperman and friend.

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Half-a-century ago today Lisa was born and I met Anselm Hollo.

Dawn this morning was the first time for more than a week I’d been outside. I thought I’d celebrate the few minutes.

NOTE October 5, 2015. Since Apple in its “progress” has made this link unusable, here’s a direct link that I hope will work in your browser.

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Ben, Vic and Florence visit: Gay Pride Parade: Lewes

….a quite remarkable woman, died an hour or so ago.