April Is The Cruellest Month

APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring Dull roots with spring rain

Bit of a cop out, spouting poetry, but my mind is addled with a combination of pain killers and sad news so I'm struggling to find words.

Studying TS Eliot's The Wasteland for A Level English some 30 years ago I found it morbid and achingly self-indulgent, but on reading it again after experiencing love and loss for myself it becomes strangely enlightening.

What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man, You cannot say, or guess, for you know only A heap of broken images, where the sun beats, And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief, And the dry stone no sound of water.

Despite everything that happens to us nature carries on,

Bringing with it beauty and hope.

No matter how jaded we are from pain, grief or just life in general, who could not fail to have their spirits lifted by a freshly opened petal or a green shoot unfurling?

Even in our unkempt wilderness things are looking beautiful.

...and I've painted one of my skip rescued planters in Krista's colours, so she knows I'm thinking of her.

I'm battered and almost broken after another busy weekend. Kinky Melon's got next weekend off but I haven't. There's an adventure and an exciting (for me) announcement on the cards that requires me to be in tip top form later this week.

Vintage Indian block printed maxi dress (gorgeous Jennifer), Copper coin pendant (the fabulous Em), stack of bastard bangles (my lovely friends Cameron & Hazel)
See you soon!

PS If you've got a minute check out my interview with the hip website Le Blow.