Hippies

Ashtrays and dead strawberries.

You can learn a lot about a man from the state of his ashtray

This is the ashtray of a man who kills strawberry plants even though they are on the kitchen windowsill. What on earth crossed his mind as he looked at them dying each time he washed up.

A friend suggested that he drank straight from the bottle or can and therefore never needed to wash anything.

The state of the ashtray confirms that.

Ruby.

Many years ago, after a divorce, well meaning friends would suggest 'suitable' new partners for me.

In order to avoid these embarrassing meetings I invented Ruby.

Some months later invention became reality and 'Ruby' entered my life.

Be very careful about what you wish for.

http://tristanssecretsofmagic.blogspot.com/

Clear skies.

Clear skies over England again.

On a normal day there would be a dozen planes in sight at any one time.

Where have they all gone?

I must buy a radio.

In pursuit of lost shoes.

Forthcoming attraction...

Eyes

Tristan, B.E.A.T, Hoxton.

Tristan is doing some of his stuff at B.E.A.T at McQueen in Hoxton on Tuesday the 20th.

http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=108995149139489#!/event.php?eid=114404488578959&ref=ts

I shall be going along to offer support.

Mary spanking Jesus.

Max Ernst

Lay-by picnic.

It always amazed me as a young man that most of my friends could find their 'niche' at such a tender age without exploring all the possibilities that life had to offer.

It's like picnicking in a lay-by just outside an enchanted wood.

I have been wandering that enchanted wood for the past 40 years.

I think I have found the place to sit for a while and feast.

When the bliss seed germinates and the next Event.

What a delicious day.

Took myself to Gusto in Westbourne Park Villas for breakfast. Surely the best almond croissants in London and the cannoli (?) are to die for; the most seductive things on the planet.

Now lunch next door at the Westbourne. A poets life is bloody tough sometimes.

We finally have a date confirmed for the next Event; it will be on the 18th of May at the Tabernacle, Notting Hill. I will post the flier when it is made. We have a fantastic line up.

Tristan promises to talk about love (or what love becomes when the bliss seed germinates) in dark places.

Can't wait.

Birthday Poem

I sit here at my loom

Penelope to my own Odysseus

unpicking life's tapestry by night

embroidering by day

Constantly on the lookout

for a white sail on the horizon.

Is he with Circe or Calypso tonight?

Tristan and Isolde, Guinness and oysters.

A very strange incident on Friday night:

I was having a beer with Tristan at the Cow; listening to one of his monologues when he suddenly stopped mid story, approached a young woman who had just passed us and demanded 'Who are you?'

She replied. 'Isolde'

'Amazing'. Said Tristan. 'I've been waiting 55 years for this.

'Why? Who are you?' She asked

'Tristan'.

'Oh fuck off' She replied. walking off.

I guess she hears that all the time I said to Tristan in order to mollify the situation.

Tristan celebrates 55 years of picking at the loose threads of life's tapestry and remedial embroidery tomorrow...

We shall celebrate with Guinness and oysters.