5. Stokes Croft, Canteen (1)

Breakdancing Jesus is a huge mural on one of the most desirable walls in Bristol. The work was commissioned by the Canteen and completed in June 2013.

The artist, Cosmo Sarson, is a painter from London, who was inspired by his love of breakdancing and witnessing some breakdancers performing for the Pope.

Cosmo Sarson, Breakdancing Jesus, Stokes Croft, Bristol, July 2015
Cosmo Sarson, Breakdancing Jesus, Stokes Croft, Bristol, July 2015

It is a really striking and challenging mural, and I love it. You might also just spot a small blue disc to the left of the mural which commemorates the Bristol riots in the area in April 1980.

It is opposite the famous Banksy ‘Mild Mild West’ mural. This mural was planned to remain for two years, which means that it may not be there much longer. We’ll see.

8/10

Love you

An untold story;

a gift of love? or maybe

an apology.

 

by Scooj

A bicycle I saw exactly a year ago on a street in Bristol.

IMG_1418

4. Redland Station

Another mural by Cheo, that I have never really paid too much attention to, despite seeing it frequently.

Cheo, Redland Station, Bristol, July 2015
Cheo, Redland Station, Bristol, July 2015

This piece, which includes his signature bees, can be found on the end wall of the garages, at the entrance to the station. It is a cheerful, rural theme.

 

Dragonfly

Relic from Earth’s youth

bathing in afternoon sun.

Fleeting adulthood.

 

by Scooj

Bristol to London by Train 2

Deer in open fields

scamper away for cover

when iron thunder comes.

 

by Scooj

Bristol to London by Train 1

Am I alone in

being incensed by human

excrement on rails?

 

by Scooj

Helios

Floret furnaces

laid out in regular rows

bursting with pollen.

 

by Scooj

Allotment time

Here my breathing slows

until no air passes through;

place and mind are one.

 

by Scooj

I sat in this overgrown corner of my allotment doing a butterfly survey this afternoon. My heart rate slowed and I caught myself not even breathing. So calm and peaceful.

Love lost

Such vibrant colour

lost in verdant foliage;

perfect camouflage.

 

by Scooj

11. Land Ho!

Wednesday 6 April 1988, Koei Maru 30.

My breakfast (actually yesterday) was steak again, with prawns, chips and macaroni. 3 enormous steaks was all I could manage. I am beginning to tire a little of them, but I do love them so.

The time is going quickly now. The days drift from one into another and I’m sure that in no time at all I shall be home on holiday. I think for me Italy has to be the answer.

I have just eaten a fruit salad that had some peculiar jelly-like cubes in it. They were clear and disintegrated much more easily than jelly. I asked Abe what it was and he said it was made from ‘sea leaf’ so I take it that it is agar gel from seaweed. It was completely tasteless and probably only in the fruit salad as a cheap filler, like sawdust in sausages.

From the same conversation it looks like we will be returning to Stanley on the 9th or 10th of this month – it is good to know that it is sooner rather than later!

Thursday 7 April 1988, Koei Maru 30.

I can’t help thinking that my diary and my mind’s capabilities are being severely disrupted by the volume of letters I am writing – they are sapping my inspiration. I also feel cheap because of them – I write many of the same things to people – sometimes using exactly the same words…

e.g. Houses in Stanley – Allotment garden. ‘Well to do’ shanti town.

Reading a great deal – David Copperfield. Theroux.

Zzz snore! – I only hope that those to whom I am writing enjoy the letters I suppose it is better than no letter at all.

Her waggoner, a small grey coated gnat,

Not half so big as a little round worm

Prick’d from the lazy finger of a maid;

Her chariot is an empty hazel nut 

Made by the joiner squirrel, or old grub,

Time out o’minds the fairies’ coach makers.

And in this state, she gallops night by night

Through lovers’ brains, and then they dream of love

O’er courtiers’ knees, that dream on curtsies straight;

O’er lawyers’ fingers, who straight dream on fees;

O’er ladies’ lips, who straight on kisses dream;

Nananuma has been very sweet. He has made an order for cornflakes and milk for the next voyage – what a good bloke.

It is at this moment as I write (10 minutes to 7am) and it is still not light, and very little sign of becoming so.

Friday 8 April 1988, Koei Maru 30.

Radioed Crag today – I definitely have a month off in Britain. Much of the conversation was about getting picked up, time in Stanley etc…

image

I have talked with the crew much more over the past couple of days. The poor chaps care only about one thing – sex – they wait with eagerness to get to Montevideo, so they can see ‘street girls’. I find this very depressing – they discuss very little else.

I am in a bit of a void at the moment, reading wise; the print in HG Wells selected short stories is too small and I have difficulty reading it. The alternative, Conrad’s Typhoon, is impossible – the dictionary syndrome – it is irritation to a degree. I have a mental block with Conrad.

Saturday 9 April 1988, Koei Maru 30.

How odd. I was sitting wondering what to do, trying to shake off a terrible dreariness when:

image

So off I went. A message came from the KSJ office to say that the ETA for Koei Maru No30 in Stanley will be 7.00 tomorrow morning – they will arrange for me to be collected by the warrah.

This is good news – whoopee! yahoo! A day early

The other bonkers thing is that it has turned out to be bloody cold and when I came back from the radio room it was bloody snowing hard. Can you believe it? Yup. April bonkers showers.

Sunday 10 April 1988, Koei Maru 30.

I got up with the sun, although I hadn’t been able to sleep a wink, I feel at least that I have been to bed. It is a very cold morning and the ship has arrived in Berkeley Sound – it is almost enough to make me cry, to see land again – it is beautiful and covered in a light scattering of snow. I must brace myself for the bad news that I might not be picked up until tomorrow – God I hope it’s today. A lovely thought – after my week in Stanley, only half of April will be left and then it will be May.