inside saint nicolas' church at old shoreham ... might that be the silhouette of a curate or a vicar on the right ? ... i was too shy to ask

the old shoreham road bridge

" i knew you were lying to me by the colours !"

there was a very good public lecture about synaesthesia by doctor jamie ward at croydon cafe scientifique this evening

http://www.sussex.ac.uk/psychology/profile92444.html

http://www.sussex.ac.uk/press_office/media/media688.shtml

i've been interested in the crossover of sensations ever since a couple of entirely predictable and deeply stimulating encounters with non-prescription psychoactive materials several decades ago

what interests me also, is the possibility that synaesthesia is not just stimulated externally through the senses, such as hearing and touch, but also internally through the workings of the mind in response to moods and meanings, hence the quote at the top

do you have an opinion ?

as you might expect, there's an excellent introduction to this subject in wikipedia

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Synesthesia

jealous ? you jolly well should be !

Jury of Peers Still Out In "Male House Dust" Divorce Damages Case

Summing up, Learned Counsel for the Defendant attempted to refute the appellant’s allegations as follows.

In the first instance, the allegation that nearly all house dust is of male origin is unsupportable in fact. Expert testimony shows that 99% of all household dust is simply too fluffy to have issued from even the hairiest male of the species, and that the fluff in question might not have been navel fluff at all, but fur balls coughed up by the defendant’s recently deceased old tom cat.

Secondly, the allegation that the defendant's pillow was always grimy was founded upon evidence which might easily have been falsified if the appellant had simply swapped pillows before the inspection by the adjudicating panel of retired fishwives. Likewise, the appellant herself had ample opportunity to have rubbed in handfuls of soot, ( which she might have purchased cheaply or even obtained freely, using her undoubted charms, from any passing itinerant chimbley sweep ), and that she could easily and malevolently have mixed the said soot with a teaspoonful of rancid margarine before maliciously rubbing it into the defendant’s pillowcase. And anyway, Man Does Not Create Grime, It Simply Follows Him Around.

Thirdly, the allegation that there was more dust beneath his side of the bed was laughable and far from convincing. The defendant maintains that he spends so many of his waking hours in the betting shops and in the bars of the public houses, in both this and the neighbouring boroughs, that there would have been insufficient time for the quantity of dust adduced by the forensic team to have accumulated. He asks the jury to consider the possibility that intruders might have emptied the vacuum cleaner whilst ransacking the property for sweets or cigarettes last Christmas Eve, and might then have swept it hurriedly underneath his side of the bed in order to conceal any trace of their movements before escaping through the french windows.

Due consideration of these doubts and uncertainties would surely, Counsel argued, lead the jury to reject the appellant’s claims for the return of her nest egg and Swiss bank deposit books.

it wouldn't surprise me if these cats weren't conspiring to create christmas chaos ... i'd better hide the cask of amontillado down in the cellar

alberto manguel's "the library at night": contents page

the loved one came home from the library with alberto manguel's "the library at night" and tentatively enquired if it might interest me ... not realizing that i had relished and devoured his "history of reading" when it was published not so long ago ... i couldn't begin to explain my delight and gratitude ... just skimming the bibliography makes me weak at the knees !

frost

a little bit of local colour

outside the old bull ring at el barco de avila

santa maria de los caballeros ... north-east of el barco de avila

what the only rotten apple sees when he gazes up from the bottom of the barrel ...

wisborough green again ... on the way from gatwick airport to portsmouth harbour

classical spanish iconography ... presumably, this ubiquitous graphic image was "idealized"

los escobazos 2008

the escorial

Three beautiful things last weekend

The unusual radiant grace of a fifteen month old boy who drinks in each new experience through enormous eyes and seems to consider every possibility in each moment with calm concentration and quiet wonder.

The ecstatic expressions of people in a packed bar dancing themselves closer to exhaustion whilst they sang the ancient anthem of their village’s fiesta.

The look of astonishment and delight on the faces of a young Spanish couple whose car was stuck in the snow as night began to fall when a stout party turned his car around near the top of a mountain pass and came back to help them push it out.

tillington church tower

phenomenally posh glass in tillington church

turner's famous view of petworth park ... tillington church tower is on the horizon ... it was new then

another dash in to trotton church

wisborough green, sussex

new balls, please ? has anyone mentioned christmas yet ?

fruit fish

... like the first morning ( insomniac photography between sneezes )

christmas ! did any one mention christmas ?

this morning, i was in a well-known "pile-'em-high, sell-'em-cheap" supermarket ... inspecting the half-price christmas decorations ... a few feet from me along the aisle stood a well-spoken country-wife in a puffa jacket and elastic-sided equestrian boots ... she picked up a toy turkey, less than half life-sized, which was made of felt, and was dressed as father christmas ... and it instantly began to sing jingle bells ... quite loudly, like a rather jolly man, kevin spacey perhaps, but it gobbled just like a real turkey at the end of each line ... blushing like a whole garden of roses, the lady looked around at the smart women behind the pharmaceutical counter, and then at me, and sounded quite panic-stricken when she said, "I don't know how to stop it !" ... so i put on a sympathetic smile and sidled over, a bit like vincent price playing the surgeon in the tingler, only not so well-spoken, or nearly as nice ... and murmured ... "maybe you should wring it's neck !"