Adrift, floating down the road in a Vanden Plas stationwagon….Mr Blobz is enchanted by the idea of a life on water, mesmerised by the ripples in the stream, those delicate shapes we create in our own wake, the patterns of our own waking… Streams of life and consciousness, held together in a wooden canoe. Floating, suspended.
My dear neighbour owns the boat and the car and the beautiful building behind (another story – this is where the Lower Main Road Xmas Party takes place every year.) In a secret workshop behind the wall, a smaller wooden canoe is being constructed by loving hands, for a son. Strips of rare wood bent to shape, brass screws holding wooden kisses together. Placing life in the stream. And, like the parent that he is, watching life grow up and inevitably away, around a bend in the river.
“theres nuthin like messin round in boats,mr blobz, im touched…by your, dare i, obzervance”
its seldom these 2 “boats” are both in sailing order,but its been a fine month…mr hope
poignant. and oh to be in sailing order. Some of ud seem to be able to naivagate the city’s canals in our leaky canoes. Who says we have to brave the open sea? i don’t.