Wednesday, May 29, 2013

C/Blegas (I think) toledo Spain

Cristina Blank - Germany

Full quota from Simon Warren!

Simon sent a pile of instalments to Maine which Eileen, the post-mistress collected and sent; they arrived in a plum envelope, all together.  
' The street lamps in Akeman Street are switched off at midnight...'
 'Ordinary people like me suffer, we have no means of voicing our disquiet...'
 'I knew the parkland, the woods south of here like the back of my hand...'
 'What does one remember but the strangeness of it all?'
 'I can't go forward because I have no system of value the only thinkg I remmeber is an awful present...'
 'There were never times like this years ago because my life was so different.
I would have loved doing this
I wasted the gaps in my life whenever I could...'
'Time lost our lives consist of time lost...'
 'A lot of the young of Tring people left the area...'


Saturday, May 18, 2013

Friday, May 17, 2013

The mail takes a long time to reach Cranberry Island...

but according to my mother, since I left, I have 'received from Simon Warren pages 29, 31,32, 33, 35 of what appears to be a journal about his life with just writing and on heavy 9x12 card stock. Each was mailed separately with stamps and amazing to think the postal people got them here in fine shape. Eileen had kept them out of the box and in a special folder with a yellow card for pick-up.' My friend the post mistress is going to wait a day or two to see if there is more and then my mum is going to put them in a package to send to me.This is the mailboat.  Mail goes on and off the island in sacks and is sorted sometime before noon, depending on the season and the boat schedule. I suspected I might have something arrive from Simon in Maine as when I returned to England I found numbers 28 and 38.    Simon's letter took me to a New Yorker cartoon (May 13th issue)  I'd read on the plane:And as you know, I've just returned from Cranberry Island where some of my year-round peers thought of Cranberry Island as Simon speaks about Tring. They called it 'The Rock'.  As a visitor, it holds delights I can find nowhere else.  It's a bit like England to me because I feel (still) like I'm visiting.  

Carmela Rizzuto plants a memory and it germinates

You may remember Carmela's previous memory that was, sadly, damaged in the post. Although it was damaged it had a beauty that made the rip almost invisible. Carmela writes that this memory has been germinating for awhile and that she finally found a window of time.  I photographed this to show the translucent quality that creates a ghostly flow between pages.

Remember when...
the sea covered the earth
stones could sing
we had wings
plants had voices
mermaids were real
we were not afraid
love was enough
- C Rizzuto 2013