The Imagination of Trees: moody blues

Thursday, 12 February 2009

moody blues

The new night light in the dining room has upset the cats. Mr B, feeling seasonably climate aware, decided to do the moral thing and get a low-energy one when the last one died on us leaving us stumbling around in the dark. Since I had an insomnia night last night at 4 am I stumbled into the dining room to find the cats not neatly curled up on their special cushion. Not snoozing and dreaming their noses scrunched into the hand-woven fabric. Not twitching their paws with imaginary mice in their claws. None of these. The cats greeted me with wild panic in their eyes. Anyone would think they had suddenly become aware of the Financial Crisis and that they had realised that they could be meat-free and facing starvation. They pleaded with me and ran to my ankles, tripping me up and screeching at me. They looked really confused and blinded and kept staring at the new eco-friendly night light as though it were a UFO re-fuelling on its way from outer-space. They kept wailing in cat-speak 'what the hell is that?'. I have never seen them move so fast and they fled upstairs to crawl into bed with Mr B, racing past another terrifying alien monster on the landing.

It is true that it has an alarming quality about it, though I thought they were being a little over-dramatic. It is neon-blue which screams melodrama and catastrophe. I hate eco-friendly light bulbs. By night they reduce our lovely warm-toned house to a space with the feel of a Crime Scene Investigation. I keep expecting to see areas of the living room cordoned off with striped tape and unreasonably attractive pathologists pulling on rubber gloves. On positive nights it is more industrial kitchen than mortuary which has more promise as an ambience. Even the ostentatious 'bought on a whim' lamp once referred to by an ex-friend as a 'pair of tart's knickers' hasn't been spared by global warming. Mr B has really gone all-out for the environment and now the taut leopard-skin and feather boa boudoir lamp has a strange coil-shaped device inserted into it. This 'ex-friend' once famously said of this Burlesque lamp that 'he didn't know whether to sleep with it or kick it out of bed'. Now I think he would find this a much easier decision since she is reduced to blue-green toned sanitised utlitarian appearance. More operating theatre gown than negligee.

When people look back on the 'noughties', they will remember it not in black or white or in flamboyant colours but in a strange bluey-greeney sallow sickly tone. Films of 2009 will be characterised by this melancholy bleakness. It is strangely symbolic that the 'depression years' will be remembered with this textureless flat sooth-saying doom-laden light. Cats are creatures of instinct. I am sure they would want to save the planet as much as the rest of us but even so they will never compromise on the mood of a night by the fire.

No comments:

Post a Comment

My original introduction

This photo was taken by my husband Graham on Iona. It is important here because it represents the way in which my Mum's death and funeral offered me healing. It marks a point at which I have decided, as she did, to be fully myself and live every moment given to me as fruitfully as I can. As part of this I wanted to start a 'new thing' and start allowing people to see more of my writing and therefore live my life more openly.
This blog is a response to the insights so many shared at Mum's funeral. I discovered there that my Mum was so much more than simply my Mum. She was never a saint, had many flaws, she could be frustrating and difficult like me. But I realise that these things were tiny when balanced next to her capacity for living and for giving. What emerged from her funeral was an image of a woman whose appetite for life and for quality of life was remarkable. She was entirely herself with everyone, whatever the cost. She gave all that she had to the people she loved, she fed us, nurtured us and showed us that every detail of every day was a blessing.
I am giving you my writing as part of the fruits of my life and person in honour of her memory and continued presence in my life. It is a risk I am now willing to take. She has given me the courage to live my life boldly.
When my Mum was dying I went to the Cathedral and imagined her saying goodbye at the side of an expanse of water. In my imagination there was a boat waiting for her to depart. In my mind I urged her to get in her boat, turn her back on us all, never look back and hope for the light on the other side of the water.
The boat story of Jesus telling terrified disciples not to be afraid in the storm and calming the waves has always been comfort to me in the storms of my life. There are so many ways of looking at the symbolic meaning of a boat.
For me this photo speaks to me about a song called 'Lord you have come to the lakeside' and in it there is a line. 'Now my boat's left on the shoreline behind me; by your side, I will seek other seas.' It is a line which kept coming to me as a friend of mine sat at her Aunt's bedside in her final hours. I sang it for her and her partner as they said their goodbyes as a prayer for them, because I knew how much they liked it. I think it began to speak to me too. When I urged my Mum to the other shore it seemed that her boat was only her own and no one could be in it with her. In her death I do feel called to 'seek other seas' as a new beginning with which to honour her departing.

Books I'm reading & books I've just read

The New Black; Mourning and Melancholia by Daniel Leader
The Time Travellers Wife
Retribution by Maureen Duffy
The Summer Book by Tove Janson
Voice Over by Celine Curiol
Perfume by Patrick Siskund
Loads of Alan Bennett's writings
Writing Home by Alan Bennett
A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian
Salmon Fishing in The Yemen
Engelby, Sebastian Faulks
The Lolipop Shoes; Joanne Harris
The Prospect of Heaven: Musings of an Enquiring Believer, Frederick Levison
The Courage to Connect; Becoming all we Can Be, Rosemary Lain-Priestley

About my Writing

My writing tends towards the poetic, it has also been described as filmic. It is intensely personal and seeped in Christian imagery and thinking. I think it is spiritual writing in that it is rooted in the belief that there is a God and that God is very real to us in this time and place on earth. I write because it is something I am unable to live without. I write because it is healing and therapeutic. I write out of instinct and because I am by nature 'a writer'. I write for myself and for others that I know and love. I write for specific occasions and for purposes as well as for its own sake. Writing is a pleasure for me.
I write sporadicallly and as the mood takes me, it is not a disciplined exercise but something which emerges from my soul when it needs to be created. I have been astonished to find that people around me need my writing. They ask for what I have written and they ask for more. This blog is an attempt to meet that demand, not because I feel pressured to do so, but because God has given me a gift and it is begging to be used. People are asking me to us this gift fruitfully.
I think my writing is healing in its nature, it is soulful and intimate, it reaches places within us which we do not understand and it sometimes moves people to tears. It doesn't seem that writing like this is a productive or lucrative affair. It is not a 'niche market', it is not designed for profit or thought through in any sense. This approach would disable it.

The Imagination of Trees