Reading Graham Greene in New York

This is Ino in Greenwich Village where we had lunch today. That was after breakfast at the local diner. Tonight we are heading out for some Tapas. Yes it is a culinary delight and every time I enter the room I hear the bass riff from Seinfeld playing . 

It is a wonder and for me a good thing. I haven't been in New York since September 11th and the week of madness that followed that day. For a long time I didn't want to come back but It has somehow been redeemed. Am reading "The heart of the matter" by Graham Greene and loving it. There was a great quote in todays chapter which although I'm feeling good at the minute and as far from despair as I've been in months ......... I still thought I would share with you because there is something profound about despair and how he describes it through the character of Scobie the hero/anti-hero of the book as he realises he cant give his wife what she wants and needs. 

"Despair is the price one pays for setting one an impossible aim. It is, one is told, the unforgiveable sin, but it is a sin the corrupt or evil man never practices. He always has hope. He never reaches the freezing point of knowing absolute failure. Only the man of goodwill carries always in his heart this capacity for damnation."

Whiskey Liturgy for John O'Donohue

Last night we had a beautiful Ikon service remembering and celebrating the life of John O'Donohue. It struck the right note with poetry, song and personal reflection. We also had a liturgy based around his favourite drink. If you enjoy it please raise a glass in memory of a man who lived life well and fully.

A whiskey Liturgy remembering the dead

An East Belfast Aristocrat recently said “ I don’t get those pop and idol shows / the good things they take a little longer.” And he’s right. Good food , good wine , yeah even life itself takes time . Many writers are fans of whiskey, a golden nectar that represents the process of creating something beautiful over time. John liked his whiskey – or firewater as he liked to call it. Whiskey is a common drink at an Irish wake and it is a living symbol of the process of life we all go through to become what it is we are meant to be.
(lift bottle of Bushmills…..)

Take some pure irish spring water, malted barley and yeast.

Grind the malted barley grains into a coarse flour. Mix it with hot water to form a mash. Then add a little yeast to trigger fermentation. Take the whole mix and triple distill it in vast copper pots. Finally it’s ready to be matured. At Bushmills they use American Oak barrels and Spanish sherry, madiera wine and port casks. The whiskey will gradually become what its meant to be ….. sitting in these barrels for 5, 10 , 15 or 20 years. And yet we are still not there …. Finally a team of blenders will combine the whiskeys from different barrels together to get the taste just right, and the journey finishes in the bottle held in front of me. Or almost finished because the whiskey still has one task left.It is to be drunk, perhaps in a celebration , or in mourning , or simply in appreciation. Maybe it will fuel conversation, or thoughts that will change the world. Finally it will be consumed.

Even the name is a thing of beauty. When the English soldiers came to Ireland they would ask what this fiery drink was ? and the locals would reply “Uisce Beatha” ….. in Gaelic it means the water of life, gradually anglicised to whiskey …… but I like water of life best !

John used to call it firewater and it is but it’s also the water of life. Its strong, It is sweet and bitter. It burns on the way down but after you have tasted it, you know that you are alive.

Tonight is not just about John, its about celebrating life , affirming life and remembering those that have made that journey ahead of us. I’m going to invite everyone to come up and have a shot of whiskey or a non alcoholic alternative …take it, drink it, walk to the table and turn over your glass and say a prayer or simply just remember someone who has passed on …. Celebrate their life and be inspired to live your own. The chapter on death in Anam Cara ends with a 13th century Persian prayer/poem which is a call to life …….” Some nights stay up till the dawn as the moon sometimes does for the sun. / Be a full bucket, pulled up the dark way of a well then lifted out into light. Something opens our wings, something makes boredom and hurt disappear. Someone fills the cup in front of us, we taste only sacredness. “

Remember that dark is not all there is …… beyond all dark there is a shining river of light and all the death that ever was , set next to life would scarcely fill a cup.
Come share the water of life and drink to lives well lived. In the name of Christ amen.

In Memoriam John O'Donohue

There is a place we have heard of , thought about and maybe even dreamed of. In a way we all journey towards it every day. Yesterday a beautiful irish writer journeyed there ahead of us, and we who are left behind are the poorer for it.

Rest in Peace John.

Go maire na mairbh agus a mbriongloidi
I bhfoscadh chaoin dilis na Trinoide

(May the departed and their dreams ever dwell
In the kind and faithful shelter of The Trinity.)

Facebook Theology

On Christmas night after the family celebration was over and the little people were in bed, I came home to join some friends for a cup of tea and a bit of late night chat. In the midst of the banter an argument developed between two friends relating to the midnight mass we had been too the previous evening. One person was dogmatically stating that it was wrong to talk in church and that if you were not taking part in the service, then the only thing you were allowed to do in the sacred space was sit quietly and pray. And the other who is well known for his capacity to talk disagreed. I wasn’t sure why everything in me disagreed with the silence argument, partly because it was being made so dogmatically, but now on reflection I realise I disagree with it, with every fibre of my being.

For two reasons ; firstly I believe church is or should be community and therefore should reflect every aspect of community. Hence there has to be space for everything in church. For talking , laughing , weeping , singing , shouting and yes also for silence.

But secondly I’ve realised that at the core of my theology I reject the sacred / secular argument. As I was thinking of a line on my facebook profile to reflect my belief, I was reminded of something a friend in Nashville said to me a long time ago, and it was simply this. “ There isn’t a secular molecule in the universe.”
And that’s why I found this idea that church is sacred and you can only be silent there so oppressive. I believe all of us were created in the image of God and that creation itself bears Gods fingerprints. Hopkins puts it well when he says,

”The world is charged with the grandeur of God/
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil”

What a fantastic image, and for me I find the sacred everywhere, in walks by the ever restless sea , sitting in contemplation in the old monastic sites of Ireland. Watching the West Wing, gathering with friends round a dinner table to break bread, drink wine, lean in and listen to each other’s lives. Even two friends sitting by a fire with a cup of herbal tea can be sacramental. I don’t always or even often find it in church. But that’s fine. The older I get the more I find God in unexpected places – sometimes even in my own life.

Right now after 4 days of sickness I've had a piece of toast and am sitting by the fire, listening to the soundtrack from Once. Feels pretty good to me.

M

Leaping back from the mockingbird

I'm back from the mockingbird and simply wanted to say - Have a blessed Christmas wherever and whoever you celebrate it with. Heres a little seasonal Buechner.

Pax Christi Tecum

M


So hallowed and Gracious is the time - these lines from the first scene of Hamlet in a sense say it all. Marcellus is walking on the cold battlements of Elsinore speaking to his companions of the time of Jesus Birth - its a hallowed time he says - a holy time - a time in which life grows still like the surface of a river so that we can look down into it and see glimmering in its depths something precious , timeless , other. And also a gracious time - a time we cannot bring about it is a time that comes upon us as grace - as a free and unbidden gift from God as we celebrate his presence amongst us. At Christmas time it is hard for even the unbeliever not to believe in something. Peace on earth , goodwill to men ; a dream of innocence that is good to hold onto even if it is only a dream ; the mystery of being a child ; the possibility of hope.

The end of a Journey

I’m sitting by a fire in old London town. The temperature outside is officially below freezing and O Brother Where art thou, is on TV. This stage of the journey comes to an end though the future is as yet unwritten. I look forward to being home and lighting a fire and having a few friends round. We will lean in, with a glass of wine and listen to our lives and the stories they hold. But for a brief taster the last 4 months have included ……….

27000 miles by airplane (I have a forest to plant)
4000 miles by train, bus, taxi, Tuk-Tuk, motorbike, elephant, bicycle and foot.
4 Continents, 9 countries, 16 Books, 945 photographs,
http://www.flickr.com/photos/14790076@N04/

Lots of people and cultural joy including;

Paris Je t’aime. Le Coup de Monde, fresh croissants, Versailles, Buddha Bar, Bastille food markets, museums that make an impression, Notre Dame, St Sulpice, Canard au miel, good wine and cycling through the Bois de Boulogne laughing like children with the mullingtons …… oh yeah

Nashvegas, city and people of my heart – if it was near the sea it would be damned near perfect. But anytime spent there is always a blessing and it can still surprise you and offer new possibilities and friendships to explore.

New Zealand – breaking bread with Mike and Rose Riddell. Remove your shoes because this is holy ground where both body and soul are nourished and loved. And the Coromandel peninsula wasn’t bad either, not forgetting the Good Dr when he finally made it from Tahiti.

Australia – Catching up with friends and family, Manly Beach, the ferry, drinks on the Opera House terrace.

Vietnam. The pollution and motorbikes of Hanoi, the glory of spending a night on a boat in Halong Bay. The charm of Hoi An, Ancient Cham Palaces and then Jungle Beach – a week in my own private heaven reading the Psalms and finding prayer as natural as breathing. Saigon, Vietnam war relics and tunnels. Mekong Delta Trip – coconut candy, floating markets, eating snake and crossing into Cambodia.
Cambodia, the water festival in Phnom Penh, the royal palaces. The horror of The Killing fields chills you to the bone and then the glory of Angkor Wat leaves you breathless. That first morning walking across the causeway to the temple, still water with lilies floating on either side and the suns first rays giving shape to the ancient stone walls. Unforgettable. As was the road to Thailand, the boulevard of broken backsides.

Thailand – chilling out in Bangkok and then heading to Chiang Mai. Bookshops, Cookery courses, fantastic foot massage, markets and falafel. Trekking into the villages on the hills, elephant riding and white-water bamboo rafting. I wrote this in the van on the way back

Elephants and Waterfalls.

This morning

Riding on elephants in the dappled green sunlight of a tropical forest.

The Mahout starts to sing quietly,

and the elephant trumpets softly and then walks on .

Stillness falls and it is a holy sacramental moment.

In the afternoon I see a rainbow in a waterfall.

On days like this I believe.


Singapore – Shiny shopping centres and afternoon tea at Raffles – well its gotta be done.

And that is just a few of the highlights. I’ve been privileged to meet many amazing people, learn new perspectives on the world, been amazed by the kindness of strangers and the prevalence of wireless internet. I’ve seen more sunrises than in the previous year put together, prayed more, read more, been surrounded by Grace and had some great food (even the snake wasn’t bad).

At the end of it I’m happier, relaxed and comfortable in my own skin than I’ve been for a long time. I am who I am and I’m happy with that. Whatever I do next the job will not define me and that is a strangely comforting notion. I’m thankful for home and friends – coming back to old friends and new life and long walks on the beach, turf fires, red wine and frosty mornings.

I’m glad to know you all and look forward to sharing our lives and stories in person very soon. In the meantime no missive would be complete without a quote from Mr Frederick Buechner, indeed the motto I try to live my life by.

LISTEN to your life. SEE it for the fathomless mystery that it is. In the boredom and pain of it no less than in the excitement and gladness: TOUCH, TASTE, SMELL your way to the holy and hidden heart of it because in the last analysis all moments are key moments, and life itself is grace. Frederick Buechner

All is well and all is well and all manner of things shall be well.

May Blessing surround you at this hallowed and gracious time of year.

Mark

Leaping with the Mockingbird till Christmas

As explained below I'm taking part in the advent Blog below ..... I don't really have the time and energy while traveling to keep 2 blogs going so for the next few weeks I will be appearing only at the mockingbird (click on the title above or below to go straight there) . But in one and only act of duplication - my friends at Moot in their service this past Sunday ended it with an extract from T.S.Elliots 4 Quartets and it seemed somehow appropriate to the season.

With the drawing of this Love and the voice of this Calling

We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Through the unknown, unremembered gate
When the last of earth left to discover
Is that which was the beginning;
At the source of the longest river
The voice of the hidden waterfall
And the children in the apple-tree
Not known, because not looked for
But heard, half-heard, in the stillness
Between two waves of the sea.
Quick now, here, now, always�
A condition of complete simplicity
(Costing not less than everything)
And all shall be well and
All manner of thing shall be well
When the tongues of flames are in-folded
Into the crowned knot of fire
And the fire and the rose are one.

Blessings of the Season Upon Y'all

m

The Mockingbirds Leap - A Blog for Advent

‘beauty and grace are performed whether or not we will or sense them. the least we can do is try to be there.’ annie dillard

As the season of advent is almost upon us I wanted to draw your attention to a special advent blog that my good friend Glenn has come up with for the season. He has gathered a wide variety of people together, of which I'm priveleged to be one, and asked us all to be attentive to the world around us during advent. It's an experiment in spiritual attention to the presence of God all around us in every day and we do it during Advent as a preparation for the coming of Christ at Christmas. His prayer is that we will all be impacted by the immense presence of God in the world. It begins, and maybe ends, in simply witnessing to an experience of grace in our day. It may simply be the statement of an address or location, or it may be an extended meditation or a poem, it may be a photograph or a piece of video, whatever it is that speaks a blessing into our lives during Advent, bearing testimony to it on the blog, and we'll see if we can accumulate a daily witness until Christmas Day itself. The days of the Advent season provide ample time for good habits of attention to take hold and grow in our lives.

Click on the title above to go straight to the Blog and feel free to add your own comments as we enter advent.

blessings

M

Angkor – A Wonder of The World !

Cambodia, land of contrasts. After the horror of the Killing Fields comes the wonder of Angkor. It is the most amazing man-made complex I have ever seen. Partly the Vastness of it – hundreds of temples and bits of temples spread for miles around. And not just any ruins but amazing fantastically intricate carvings and vast temples that would have held thousands. Angkor Wat – walking across the causeway too it is a mystical experience. Its vast – part of the biggest Religious site in the world.
Some of it is overrun with tour groups, but at some of the more remote temples you can explore corridor after corridor on your own, stumbling across long forgotten altars to who knows what God. Although the Khmers were Buddhist, they had a strong Indian influence and many of the carvings have Hindu gods and goddess’s on them.

And then there is Ta Prom – once a vast temple that had 80,000 people working in it. While many of the temples have been restored this one has been left exactly as it was when the French explorers rediscovered it in the 1920’s. It has been invaded by nature and much of it has crumbled, while the walls have trees growing out of them and there are piles of rubble everywhere. It’s a good place to act out your Angelina Jolie fantasies ( no not those ones Mullan- this is a family blog), as it was used to film parts of Tombraider, or for my generation being on the set of Indiana Jones.

Its just stunning, its incredible. It was built in the 11th and 12th Century and supported a population of 1 million at a time when London was a small town of 50,000. I’m also betting that the water and sewage facilities in Angkor would have been superior too. I would put it on my list of things to see before you die. It will not disappoint.

And so tomorrow I leave this land of contrasts which showcases the best and worst of humanity. The ancient splendour and the modern horror.

The Killing Fields and S21

Today I visited S21 prison where thousands were tortured and then the Killing fields of Choeung EK where tens of thousands of Cambodians were killed by the Pol Pot regime between 1975 and 1979.

Sometimes words cannot convey all we want them to. Sometimes the horror is so much that we find ourselves mumbling Kyrie Eleison – Lord Have mercy …. On ourselves as well as the pitiful victims of the Khmer Rouge.

Today it is a strangely peaceful site with quiet waters flowing past the green trees and the faint sound of children playing in the distance. It’s hard to believe that I’m standing on a mass grave of thousands of people, many of whom were bludgeoned to death to save the price of a bullet. In the memorial on the site thousands of skulls are stacked in a glass tower, as a memory and tribute to the unnamed and unknown who died here.

We breathe in and try to comprehend what happened here. Some are silent , some quietly weep. I find the words spoken to me as a child, somewhat comforting … Our Father who art in heaven , hallowed be thou name …. I repeat the prayer as I walk around the site, though I struggle with Thy will be done on earth.

Kyrie Eleison, Lord have mercy

Christe Eleison. Christ have mercy on us all.

Cao Dai - its like Ikon but with better robes !

Went to the Cao Dai temple in Vietnam. They are an interesting religion - its a mix of about 6 western and eastern religions and philosophies- basically take the bits you like and leave out those you dont. Lots of Buddhist influence but at one point they also had their own Pope and Cardinals. They are also a big fan of Victor Hugo and have a statue to him inside the temple. If only I had brought a copy of Petes'book with me I could have left it with them and some day we could have a statue of Rollins in beside Victor Hugo. Currently they have 3 million followers.

Culture - The Ties That Bind

In Vietnam, perhaps the most culturally different place I’ve ever been to and yet it makes me think of home more. Suddenly the music of Duke Special and Foy Vance is what I listen to while lounging in my beach hut in shorts on a hot afternoon. And with the music is memory’s of cold clear autumn days walking down by the beach or through the forest kicking through those yellow leaves. Of a clean crispness in the air , of woolly jumpers and turf fires burning and warm drinks. Coming in out of the cold with flushed cheeks but feeling alive.

When it comes down to it I’m a northern hemisphere man. I like the mildness of our climate and the lifestyle that goes with it. And it is strange to think these thoughts while listening to the waves crash on a golden beach and eating some dragon fruit and loving it. And its not home sickness, because I don’t want to go home. I am loving Vietnam but perhaps, that’s part of the paradox of travel. As well as learning about other cultures, you also learn the importance of your own culture. You realise how much a part of it, you are and how it has shaped you. You also learn a lot about your self and who you really are, and also what you want in life and what you don’t know. I will expand on this more in later posts but sitting in my beach hut in a hammock gives me a lot of contemplation time.

I’ve also been reading through the Psalms this week. The Blues of the Bible. Davids’ writings ranging from unrestrained praise to shouting at God. Honestly not sure what to make of it right now – its hard and honest and raw and dull and wonderful and annoying and profound. But walking on the beach a lot it is perhaps a phrase of my least favourite apostle Paul which constantly springs to mind. In a rare poetic turn when talking to the men of Athens he describes God as one in whom we live and move and have our being. And watching the sun rise and the rain fall over a deserted beach, watching the stars from my beach hut and then falling asleep to the rhythm of the ocean ….. I think I’ve begun to understand that phrase like never before, perhaps even for the first time.

Jungle Beach

Travelling, travelling and thinking. Time to wonder about life and what it is I actually like and want to do with it. And I want to create, I want to make things out of nothing. Make ideas come alive in the mind and imagination of myself, and also those who will read them. I want to love and be loved and to rediscover the joy and wonder of my very existence. There is a young girl here from Australia on her gap year. She still has a sense of wonder about everything around her, the certainty of opinion of the young but also the sheer joy at the sun, at the rain , at the electric in the air as it seemed a storm was building. It’s refreshing to be around that naïve but wonderful joy at her own existence.

Jungle Beach is a good place to contemplate these things. It’s a little no-frills resort at the end of a peninsula. Accommodation is wonderfully basic beach huts. One side more or less open to the elements and your bed is a mattress on a bamboo platform. The sound of waves crashing on the beach gently lulls you to sleep. There is nothing to do here but relax, walk on the beach and eat the fantastic food on offer. Its about £9 a night and that includes three meals a day and all the coffee, lemon water and drinking water you can handle. Tomorrow I may feel adventurous and climb the mountain to find the waterfall and go swimming. Or I may sit and continue reading a book that I am disciplining myself not to read too fast. It’s “The Shadow of the Wind,” by Carlos Ruiz Zafon and he writes with an unrestrained beauty and the whole story displays his love of literature and storytelling. Its mesmerising. Buy it. Read it . Love it .

And so what next in my own story ? Am thinking a lot about culture , reading the Psalms and a lot of other stuff but cant quite articulate where it is taking me yet. Maybe tomorrow. Right Now I'm getting the overnight Bus to Saigon because the train was cancelled. And there are some new photos on the flickr .

M

Dragons and Karaoke

Halong Bay

Shrouded in mist, shrouded in myth, shrouded in mystery. Halong Bay is an incredible place. As you leave the harbour in a Chinese Junk type boat it looks like an impenetrable wall rising out of the sea, but as you get closer you realise it is hundreds of islands and the boat happily sails through them. Some of them rise majestically hundreds of metres above you and you can see why it is the home of many Vietnamese myths and legends. The main one tells us that long ago the people of the land of Vietnam were under attack from a foreign invader and they appealed to heaven for help. So a mother dragon and her children came to help them, dropping jewels and jade into the sea. Those jewels became the islands we see today and the new defences helped the people stay safe and form the country of Vietnam. The Dragons were so impressed they also set up home in the bay.

I wonder what the dragons made of our Karaoke on board the Kangaroo tours boat. Probably not much but we had a great time, It rounded of a good day visiting a cave full of stalactites, cruising around the bay and having a great dinner on board the boat. What goes on tour stays on tour but all I can say is that my rendition of Brown Eyed Girl followed by I Cant Help Falling in Love with you, had the crowd screaming for more. But ever onward after one more night out in Hanoi with the Aussie girls from the boat it’s a 16-hour train ride to Danang.

Oh Yeah and lots more photos on Flickr - click the title above to go straight there.

M

Hanoi Hello

Well what can one say about the capital of the Socialist Republic of Vietnam. It's big and dirty and full of life. A kaleidoscope of vendors and food cooked on the pavement and more use of car horns than even Jeremy Clarkson would approve of. It is a huge cultural change from New Zealand and Australia and I am still processing what I am seeing . There is poverty and pollution but also time. People are friendly , even if they are trying to rip you off they do it with a smile. The biggest adventure is crossing the road. The only rule of traffic in Hanoi seems to be use your horn with abandon at all times and in all places. Although red lights and one way streets exist - it is only in theory.To cross the road one steps out slowly into the flow of cars, motorbike xe oms and bicycles and walks slowly across the road. You walk slowly to allow the drivers time to see you and take avoiding action. So far it has worked well.

Although it's vibrant I'm keen to get out of the city and into the countryside. Tomorrow is an early start and then a boat trip around Halong Bay with some Kayaking thrown in and after that it should get more chilled for a week or two in rural areas and on beaches. So internet access may be limited but I will do what I Can. No photos this time - the promise of wireless internet turned out to be a 15 year old PC with the Letters almost worn off the keyboard.

But you know what its 28 degrees and so much better than working ......

Be well wherever you are .

blessings m

Westward Bound

Heading to Singapore today and then Vietnam tomorrow. Had a great week in Sydney catching up with people. There are new photos on the flickr site - click on the title above to go straight there. Not sure what the internet access will be like as I travel but will update as much as possible. In the meantime as a friend reminded me the other day, 'the journey is the destination.' And onward I go.

m

As it is in Heaven / New Zealand

sometimes so is it on earth. If anyone I've met embodies the hospitality of the gospels it is Mike and Rose Riddell. A sojourn with them is always a blessed time when one feels loved and affirmed, and empowered to dream dreams and live the creative life. Tonight we had a truly incarnational meal - them,me and the Dr of Higgins.

It was incarnational - food and conversation being the very stuff of life itself and we shared stories of sorrow and laughter , shared dreams and talked about what the life more abundant that Jesus promised us might look like. One thing Mike said was that he thought I was becoming more comfortable in my own skin. I think he is right and even in the few short weeks here I have felt comfortable with the life choices I've made and confirmed in giving up the job and finding time to dream it all up again. There is an old aboriginal proverb that says "He who stops dreaming is truly lost." I think i was on the way to being lost in the job I was doing and had almost stopped dreaming but now it is back and I'm feeling good.

We talked also about celebrity and how ordinary lives get lost and devalued. Every day I'm learning a little to live the Buechner Quote above - because all moments are key moments and life itself is Grace.

We also realised that though it was Gareth who introduced me to Mike 4 years ago, that it was my organising of a bus to greenbelt 10 years ago which had allowed Gareth to first meet Mike. We were all part of the fabric of each other.

Sitting by the Riddells swimming pool with a glass of whiskey was like a little taste of eternity. Receiving Grace and being empowered to go out and share that Grace with others. A glimpse of who I want to be and a little taste of heaven here in Middle earth. Tomorrow its on to Australia to catch up with old friends and family. In the meantime let me leave you with the words of New Zealand poet James K Baxter.

Miracles are needed
Miracles of nourishment
Miracles of sharing
Miracles of healing
But as we may suppose that
the age of miracles is past,
though sudden miracles
surround us like blackberries
in the bushes in autumn !

JKB

This week I've enjoyed the miracle of friendship , hospitality and Grace and I thank God that I'm alive.

blessings

m

The Judge,her lover , the Dr and the journalist.

Hallo from New Zealand. I do apologize for the lack of blogging but it thats pesky real world getting in the way. Suffice to say Paris was wonderful , Nashville was sublime and New Zealand is currently everything one could wish for. We have spent most of the last week at a beach house on the Coromandel with Judge Riddell , her lover and the Good Dr.

The weather was irrelvant as we indulged in good wine, food and conversation , interspersed with long walks on deserted beaches. Much was discussed , many world issues resolved and a taste of heaven was enjoyed by all. And urged on by my geeky friends ( you know who you are ) I have opened a flickr account so that you can see what I've been up to so click on the title above or follow the link below to see the photographic evidence of the trip so far.

blessings m

http://www.flickr.com/photos/14790076@N04/

Art or Not and a little bit of unadulterated fun!

So yesterday we were cycling in the Bois de Boulogne - its not often I start a blog with that line. Its the old hunting grounds of the french Kings now a huge park on the edge of Paris. Stu , Keli and I hired bikes and as we went racing of into the trees were swept by a wave of childlike euphoria - cue screams and laughter and some dodgy cycling in and out of the trees. Ah it was marvellous and then we ventured into the Bagatelle Botanic gardens where in the midst of a picture perfect garden replete with roses and fountains , there was a free classical music concert going on in the Orangerie ...... so we sat outside in the sun and were content.

I've also been to rugby matches ( least said about that the better) , Notre Dame ( so far no justifiable homicide of american tourists clutching copies of the Da Vinci Code but give me time) and the Louvre and hence my question of the day .....

What makes a work of art great ? The two photos above are works of art by Leonardo Da Vinci - one the Mona Lisa is world famous - always has a cue around it and is frankly quite disappointing close up . I much preferred the other picture of an unknown noblewoman from Naples hanging in the corridor outside with no crowds near it as they all rush past to see the Mona Lisa. So who decided what is great and what is not and why is one better than the other ..... answers on a postcard please ? Anyway am off to the Louvre again - must be all that french food .

avoir un jour splendide

m

For Sausage Baps and St George

Yesterday I had my last sausage bap of the year at St georges market before heading off on my travels and so in tribute .......

Its a little bit of heaven - a place where both adults and children can be happy. Its sometimes a little cold in the old victorian building but the light is always good. Even on a rainy day it feels bright , ethereal and set apart. A world of music and good food. The smell of bacon and sausages cooking over at the Mossbrook Farm stand. Trevor is always smiling as he hands over the sausage baps while the girls make the coffee - the spitting of the grill mixing with the hissing of the Italian coffee machine.

But ultimately its a place of friendship. A space to catch up and enjoy the company of many friends both old and new. And a space to wander and buy your food for the coming week. I cant help but love it. If heaven is a little like St Georges I'll be happy there.

and in honour of Padraig a Saintly Haiku

St Georges Market
Children Crying , bacon frying
and I am happy.

blessings

m