It’s a wonder I can still see, given my penchant for pointing my lens at the sun. Not a concern in London today. (I took this picture a few days and a couple of thousand miles ago. I’m finding it hard to categorise – the photograph, I mean.)
Archive for June, 2005
Fiendish feracious fantast fitfully feeds finicky Flickr fresh fodder, foolishly forgetting foreseeable floccinaucinihilipification from fellow flibbertigibbets.
Hejaz railway station, Damascus. Twinned with Denmark Hill (potentially). Home to stained glass, stern portraits of moustachio’d top dogs, an impressive ceiling, but no trains for a while, pending redevelopment. Except the 1908 German steam engine out front.
A remarkably relaxed place, unless you’re a foreign woman and mind having to wear a brownish hooded robe to get in. People were playing, wandering about with ice-creams and sleeping in the shade – all presumably offenses punishable by excommunication in Westminster Abbey or Westminster Cathedral. Nice carpets, too.
Damascus: ice-cream, songbirds, sunbeams, traffic, veiled women, blackberry juice, merciless sun, fountains, carpets, potions, manners, and so much more but now I must run
Wrought iron gateways, stone arches, fresh fruit, history, cats, debate, sudden transitions, hubbub, seclusion, bright light, interesting faces, antique spinning tops, domes, speculation, resignation, infatuation, possibilities, books, politics, people dragging things, bumping into and beeping at each other, hope, sadness, multitudes, life.
Such days! Truly alive, exploring, meeting old friends and new cultures I love and admire. The sense of possibility is flourishing, delight and appreciation overwhelming.
Yesterday I walked through Jerusalem aka Al Qutz for the first time in my life.
My thanks to you for visiting Extra Extra: ‘There is something to say when there is someone to say it to, and there is someone when someone listens out – and in, to connect with the wish that someone be… There is some one speaking.’ (Eynel Wardi on Dylan Thomas)