ellen bell

I cleanses me. I lie in it and think about my writing. And clarity comes. The building sites noise, which is at times extreme, can be blotted out, if I choose instead to listen to the wood pigeon. And I do.

I saw the first two butterflies of the year two days ago, and this morning there was a moth flitting about around the table light upstairs. They bring a promise of something almost like joy…..

I forget the wonder of it all, lost, as I mostly am in my head. The sky was full of stars tonight and the moon a slither of light. And there was a face. I am sure of it.

I long to go there again. I remember its light in those early mornings, still cold but with that promise of heat. But it is such a journey.

Will it happen? Will diplomacy take over? All this belligerence. Have we learnt nothing? Meanwhile, the powerless are being starved, bombed and made homeless. Is there anything we can do? Ever?

I have a longing. But for what exactly it is hard to say. I want to be still, to shut my eyes, my face inclined to the sun and to just listen to the world turning. All very fanciful, but I am tired, jaded even – running on empty.

He emailed to say that he thinks that they have it. That it has been lying on someone’s desk for quite some time. That they didn’t know whose it was. He doesn’t believe this story. But it doesn’t matter. If it is found and I can hold it in my hands again, I don’t care what may or may not have happened. I am blessed by this little miracle.

Berger writes that drawings are merely ‘notes on paper’ and yet, to lose them, as I have is a grief of sorts. I certainly cried.

It shouldn’t be done. This is where I am now, and what has happened, all those choices that I made, good and bad, have brought me here. And it isn’t so bad? Is it? I’m just tired and jaded today. Moon stuff can bring such dullness on. Let it be, let it pass. And it will.

It’s a crazy amount of money. But oh, to be back there….

I dreamt of L. last night. It wasn’t her but at the same time it was. Her face was wider, paler and her hair blonde. She was open. She came into my house with her new love. She even accepted a cup of tea. Can dreams come true?