Another two short chapters … This image has been made over from something completely different that I have used before … you may even recognize it. The ability to change an image utterly with just a few slide buttons, is a thing I love about the possibilities of even very simple software such as Preview.
The Well …
To celebrate electric trucks … a screenshot from https://www.trucksales.com.au/editorial/details/electric-truck-guide-whats-available-in-australia-150315/ Unfortunately couldn’t find one with an Australian number plate.
Two chapters because Mongrel 15 is quite short. Enjoy …
This cloud front is racing north …
And appears to stretch all the way from east to west . Not that I can see the westerly end …
Times like these I wish I could see from the top floor westerly fire escape balcony without having to walk all the way down to the ground floor and catch the lift back up to level 2.
Going in the elevators during a thunderstorm seems quite risky. What if there’s a power cut? Not only that, I don’t think my knees would cope descending nine floors.
The cloud is gone, but it is raining. Just a light shower emanating from the white clouds left behind. Turning into a sun shower …
The only time in my life that I’ve ever risked looking directly at the sun was in 2019 when bush-fire smoke made that possible. Here the sun setting behind Chincogan or more popularly known as ‘Chinnie’. A little relationship to the story so far.
Fell over this fabulous video about it …
In the Biesboschen
Four hundred begettings ago,
Hunting, fishing and gathering
We people followed the narrow under-tree paths
of deer and swine.
Otter-Wijf might then have been my name.
Hung with bones, herbs and a wisert’s skin
I walked and walked and walked the cool under-tree paths
Of our home range.
— — — —
With this painting and poem I’ve tried to manifest a dream in which I had the clearest sensation that I walked through sand–making those little squeaks–in an ancient Dutch setting. Otter-wijf was my name and I wore a leather shoulder bag with dried herbs in it, and a leather wrap about my shoulders.
It was the uncanniest thing when I woke, no longer wearing the wrap or the bag when only seconds before they felt as real, as the bed-sheets a few seconds later.
Rita de Heer 